The crone pauses and cranes her neck to search my eyes. It’s the closest to a bent neck I’ll ever get from her. “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Remember what?” Her brow furrows. “I don’t think I should tell you. I don’t want to get in the way of the Fates.” I snort. “Crone, you’re full of shit.” She shrugs. “It’s hard to know what’s helping and what’s meddling. There’s no rule book.”
