She smiles then, and places her cigarette at the edge of the table, the end accumulating ash which falls away in slow increments. The pack is at her elbow — some obscure brand with Chinese characters on it. The shekels she tucks into the pack before placing her hand on the deck and spreading the cards, face down, before Jack.

"Pick any three, but don't look at them yet. They will be your past, present, and future."

As carefully and slowly as he can, Balthazar inhales. His physical senses are not really any sharper than a human's, but it's psychological, a way of focusing on Jack in a less obvious way. He still can't come to any conclusion. There's just... unease, growing and ebbing fitfully. It's fascinating to him.