Roxy rolled her eyes and pulled Christian toward the red tent. "That's Iron Maiden."

"I will not frolic in an Iron Maiden," Christian protested. "In it there will be no room for the dancing or the Maypole."

Roxy stopped and stared at him for a minute. I giggled. He smiled.

She turned back to me. "Just remember that you can't let Raphael take the third step of Joining until I'm there to watch."

"The third step?" What was she talking about? "What happened to the second step?"

She dropped Christian's hand and with a big, exaggerated sigh hurried over to where I stood, counting on her fingers as she said, "The first step is the mark, right?"

"Right. You say that's the visions."

"And who knows Dante's books better than anyone else on this whole planet?"

"You do," I acknowledged.

"Right. Trust me, the visions are his mark, the first step. The second step is—"

"Protection from afar."

"Exactly. And who was it who grabbed Dominic and slammed him up against the wall with one hand when he was about to bite your wrist?"

"Well—that wasn't protection from afar, though."

"Afar, a-near, same difference," she shrugged. "It was protection, and that's all that matters. And if I hadn't interrupted you, he'd probably have taken the third step."

The memory of his body pressed against mine was not one I'd dismissed. I'd carried it around, tucked away in a corner of my mind like a little treasure, something I could bring out and examine in private. I said nothing.

"Just promise me he doesn't lock lips with you until I'm around to see it, OK?"

"Go. Away."

She grinned and dashed back to Christian, grabbing his hand and hauling him to the Dungeon Room tent. He sent me a pitiful look over his shoulder. I blew him a kiss.

Because the real moneymaking attraction of the evening—the Goth bands—wasn't slated to start until later, the people who were present during the early hours of the fair were almost normal looking. Yes, there was PVC and vinyl and thick, clunky-looking shoes, and black, black, black everywhere, but there were also a lot of couples, young people in small groups walking around giggling and pointing out the oddities to each other, and even some families, although I noticed that admittance to several of the more questionable attractions was limited to those over the age of twelve.

Czech, German, and French were the predominant languages heard, with a smattering of English here and there, giving truth to what Christian had said earlier about people traveling to the area from all over Europe for the All Hallow's Eve celebration.

I worked my way through the thickening crowd, heading for the booth with a sign painted with a big blue hand garnished with a gilt Mannaz, one of the rune symbols used in divination. Happily for me, the next-door booth—Tanya's tarot card booth—was vacant. Although I had no qualms about facing her again, I didn't particularly want to encourage another scene like the one we'd been through earlier. I figured Tanya must be off casting spells and grinding up warts for love potions, which suited me just fine.

Arielle was seated at a low table covered with the standard moon-and-stars cloth you see at a lot of occult shops, cupping a blond twenty-something's hands in hers as her fingers traced lines on the woman's palm.

"Your life line is very long and very strong. This is always a good sign," she told the woman in German. She gave a shy smile to the man standing behind the woman's shoulder. "You have only one marriage line."

The blond woman tittered and turned to shoot coy looks from under her lashes to her companion.

"Your heart line joins your line of head, so in relationships, your head very much controls your heart."

The woman dimpled at her, pleased. I waved at Arielle and got in line behind the couple. So far what I'd heard was pretty standard fare—generalizations and vague concepts that were meant to send the customer away with a warm, happy glow.

"You have only one infinitesimal line of fate. This means that fate will not play too much of a role in your life. This is good, you understand? It means you are in control of your life."

"Oh, yes, very good," the woman agreed, starting to get into the reading. "I like to be in control."

Her companion snorted in obvious agreement. She ignored him, peering into her palm as Arielle pointed out a bump. "Your inner Mount of Mars indicates aggressiveness, but your outer Mount of Mars indicates self-control, so sometimes you find yourself wanting to push everyone out of your way, but you hold yourself in check."

The woman was nodding at everything Arielle said, her brows drawn together as she watched Arielle point to her fingertips and describe how they indicated she was a creative, artistic person. Five minutes later, Arielle concluded that the woman would have two children, travel extensively, and have intermittent luck throughout her long life. The German woman, all smiles after the reading, handed over the reading fee, slipping Arielle an extra couple hundred koruna as a tip before heading off to have something on her boyfriend pierced (Nostrils? Nipples? My German wasn't up to anatomical piercing dialogue).

"Good evening, Joy," Arielle greeted me in her softly accented English. "How is your head feeling?"

"Much better. I'd like you to read the runes for me, but first…" I gnawed on my lower lip and looked around us. Since the fair had just opened, there weren't a lot of people lining up for readings yet, and we were fairly private at the end of the row of booths. "I was wondering if you could tell me where Raphael might be."

She gave me a conspiratorial wink. "He is very handsome, yes?"

My cheeks started to pink up. I just hoped that in the washed-out light of the bulbs overhead, she wouldn't see me blushing like a virgin. "Um… I guess. Do you know where he is?"

She gave one of those eloquent shrugs that only the French seem to know how to make. "I do not. He generally checks in to see how I am doing before Dominic's show, when he watches the crowds in the main tent. Otherwise, he promenades the fair and keeps control of the people."

"Ah. OK. I'll just keep my eyes peeled for him promenading." I waved at a velvet cloth bag sitting at the end of the table. "Would you do a reading for me?"

"With pleasure," she answered, pulling out a casting cloth of garishly colored red and gold, "although I am very new to it, and the readings are not very strong within me yet."

"No problem. To tell you the truth, I'm just killing a bit of time until Roxy and Christian get tired of playing on the rack."

She paused as she reached into the bag. "The rack?"

"Nothing. Go ahead, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

She scattered glossy black hematite stones painted with gold runes on the cloth, and asked me in her professional, chatty voice if I was familiar with rune stones, then suddenly caught herself and said in her normal voice, "Oh, but Roxy said you read runes. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to insult."

"You didn't in the least," I assured her.

She put her professional face back on and started her patter back up, instructing me to think of a question or issue for which I sought an answer.

"When you have your question firmly fixed in your mind, please select five stones that call out to you."

I looked at the stones scattered on the casting cloth. I'd never done a reading in that manner, but I figured it was good to learn new things, so I closed my eyes and picked out five stones.

"Very good," she said, scooping up the remainder and slipping them into the bag, then placing the five chosen stones in a cross arrangement. "I do the Cross of Thor spread for you now."