“Here,” said the old witch, her withered talon lightly touching a card. “Nine of Stones, death by kitchen accident.”
Seeing his concerned glance, she wheezed, “Don’t take the cards so literally, boy. They must be interpreted as they are dealt, according to the other cards in the layout. See, here–” She tapped again. “It’s crossed by the Rakish Cousin.”
He sighed with relief.
Sigh, said his sword.
What? it responded to his inward frown. I wasn’t mocking you. I can’t actually sigh, so I have to say “sigh”.
“It could be food poisoning, for instance, or possibly you may be crushed by a provender’s cart.”