“Good man. Show the woman who’s boss!” The earl’s heavily lined face turned to a wash of static as Geraint cut the telecom.

Geraint wasn’t much given to the political intrigues so favored by Britain’s nobility. Supporting one faction inevitably meant that some other little clique would invariably harbor a grudge, and so he tried to avoid taking sides. When his hand was forced, he went along with the majority and never opposed the truly powerful. All he could do was hope that Rhiannon Glendower wouldn’t single him out from among the parliamentary lobby the government would need to muster for this vote. She was the last person he’d want for an enemy.

Almost dreamily he turned and twisted the tiny Chinese dragon spheres. The spheres tinkled and jingled in his fingers, and soon he had them synchronized in their gentle chiming. It was only when his senses suddenly snapped him back into the real world a few minutes later that he realized how far away he’d been, off in one of the fugue states he’d inherited from his mother, who possessed the Sight far more strongly than did Geraint. He couldn’t recall anything from his moments out of this world, just a vague premonition and uncertainty. Almost reluctantly, he reached for the Tarot and drew a single card.

The Five of Wands. Strife.

He felt unsure about the card, and despite his intimate familiarity with the images, he pulled a well-thumbed old book from an untidy pile on the small bookcase beside his desk. “A tricky and difficult time,” read the entry for the card. "The Five of Wands suggests that one will meet opposition that can only be overcome through cunning and resourcefulness. This opposition takes the form of some competing interest, a talented person or powerful group of people who do not share one’s plans, goals, and attitudes, and may even scheme against one…"