Savino laughed good-naturedly at Miss Reid’s protests, both at her sheepish tone and at the idea of broken tarot cards. He was a little – aware, too, of the easy tone of their banter; they obviously knew each other well. Obviously during Miss Reid’s school years, as she had said, but Savino was also now able to note that Mr. Carmichael was much younger (and wittier, and better-dressed) than he had imagined her ‘Professor Carmichael’ to be when she’d first mentioned him in Italy.

But Savino didn’t have much more opportunity to observe their dynamic before they were asking about his Seers club. That, he thought, made it sound a little pitifully juvenile; he shot Miss Reid a wry smile. “Well, we prefer to call it a society – a Society of Divination – and we always invited those who were interested in the practice of it, but... several of us were Seers. Sometimes different people have different insights –” not that there wasn’t a lot that still seemed eternally incomprehensible, even with more minds put together – “but I always feel better about the Sight after talking to other people about it.” There, yes, he mostly meant other Seers, because the Sight felt like a very different thing when you were isolated by it. It was no wonder some people thought it a curse.

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