Spirit Guardian: chapter 1

Roxanne shuffled the tarot cards in her slender fingers, sighing. Over time the paint had worn off where her fingers had slid across them, it comforted her. She could feel the familiar itch on the tips of her fingers that meant something bad was going to happen. She shuffled the cards once more and spread them face down across the table in front of her, allowing her fingers to hover over them, only just not touching, she felt something subtle and barely distinct change in her mind as her fingers came across 5 cards. She slid them from the group and turned them over one by one channelling her mind and focusing on the pictures on the cards. Her shining emerald eyes frowned at them, the fool, the magician, the lovers, the hermit and death.
Snatching them off the table she got up from her seat and went to her mirror, which hung with all kinds of necklaces, amulets and other odd things. She looked into the mirror and there looking back at her was a beautiful woman with thick fiery, crimson coloured hair that hung either side of her face with jangling beads threaded into it, down to her waist. Her eyes were lined with black and her green eyes looked like you were looking straight into an emerald kaleidoscope, they had an odd depth to them, like looking into a mirror facing another mirror, her life and others, the spirits and magic, everything, was reflected in them. Her skin was whiter than milk and smoother and more perfect than a marble statue. She adjusted her headscarf so her hair tumbled down her back but was kept away from her neck.
Her hair, her skin, her eyes, these marked her for what she was, a witch, a creature made of magic itself and born into a human body. There were ways to tell a real witch from a fake, the most obvious one being that their appearance, witches don't age like humans. The second, a witches blood is not red, the colour varies depending on the witch. What humans don't know is that black blood means a witch has killed or hurt a human. Gold blood means that a witch has helped a human recently. There are many ways to kill a witch too, but you have to be smart as most witches are sharp and cunning and dangerous and will kill you without thinking twice.
"Stop fussing, you look fine." A slow, almost whisper like voice sighed. A shiny yellow and red snake slid out of her pocket and up around her neck, it's cool scales soothing her hot neck. "Remember, the cards don't really tell the future, you know that." It sighed again, the snake's tongue flicking and twisting with every word. "But your instincts are right, something's wrong, ready yourself"
Roxanne sighed again much like the snake and opened a draw under her bed, the draw was filled with small sharp knives the length of a pen and arrows the size of a forearm. She took 10 of the knives and stood up picking up her long patterned skirt and sliding it up her leg revealing worn brown riding boots and, attached to her thigh, a leather strap, with several sheaths. She slid the knives into them and bent to pick up some of the arrows, dropping her skirt. Now she was ready for whatever was coming for her.
She sat back down at the little table covered in more long silky cloth, still holding the tarot cards, and slid them back into the deck, returning to her shuffling, the bracelets and bangles on her slender wrists jangling like music. The snake on her neck slowly, made its way down her arm to the table and down the leg which was carved to the shape of a tall rabbit. As its head grew close to the ground limbs grew from its side and its jaw slowly changed shape, like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. The scales faded transforming into shiny fur and muscle. The fox now sat down next to her on the floor and lay down, with his nose by her feet.
The curtain covering the doorway at the far end of the caravan brushed open and a young man stood in the doorway, the night air rushing in to fill the warm caravan with its darkness and cold. Roxanne tilted her head to the side and smiled in a pleasant way, holding up her hand and beckoning him in, she could feel the currents in the air stinging her palm, they spoke of danger to her and she withdrew her hand slowly and looked down at her hands. "Welcome, what is it you want from me today? Shall we see what the cards hold in store for you?" She spoke just above a whisper, making her voice smooth and inviting. She had learned from experience that her customers expect a certain level of atmosphere. The candles, the cards, the crystals, the charms, anything to make it obvious what she is, this level of stereotype often meant that people believed she was a fake. They didn't care; they liked the idea of it.
The man walked forward with confidence and hostility leaking out of every pore. Her heightened sense of emotion telling her what her eyes couldn't see. His skin was the colour of caramel from being in the sun, and his eyes, which didn't move from Roxanne's once, were like dark chocolate, they were deep and luxurious, yet filled with pain and suffering. His features were chiselled and strong, with high angular cheekbones and a sharp set jaw.  Roxanne squared her shoulders and leant back in her chair as he sat down across from her. He wore general travellers' gear, light-weight plain brown trousers and open white shirt, revealing more caramel and a carved wooden swirl like a shell, hanging from a leather cord around his neck.  On his back were a hand crafted quiver, with feathered arrows inside and a large, strong looking bow. He didn't say anything, just stared at her, his eyes locked on hers.
Roxanne took the cards and laid them out in front of him, a smile tugged at the corner of her red lips and she said in that same whispery smooth voice "The cards it is." She waited for the familiar feeling then slid those cards out and turned them over tipping her head to the left pretending to look thoughtful then snapped her eyes to his, he didn't flinch, she dint like that. "But first, what do you have to offer me in return?" He slid his hand into a bag at his waist and dropped some coins on the table, she gave him a small innocent smile, "Thank, you" Irritation flashes across his face as she took them inspecting them for fakes and then putting them in her pocket.
Looking back at the cards she shook her head morosely "Your life, you've had a lot of pain and suffering haven't you? You have gone through a great loss, one most people wouldn't understand, one that marks you out. A piece of your soul was lost with it, and now, you're out... for revenge, correct? Revenge against.... witches." Suddenly he sprang up from his seat knocking the chair over and in one swift, practiced move had donned his bow and was aiming it at her forehead. In the same instant, she had flung back her shawl covering her left arm and was aiming a small crossbow attached to her forearm at his heart, in her right arm she held 3 of the knives from her sheaf. She smiled slow and sly at him. "Checkmate."