Chapter 7
We head toward the back of the shop to the room where I perform my readings. I turn my key in the lock and flip the light switch.
The antique chandelier I hung casts a soft glow over the tiny room.
It’s not much, but it’s mine. A glorified card table shrouded in a shimmery purple-and-gold tablecloth takes up most of the space.
The bookshelf in the corner is covered in knickknacks: a crystal ball with a gold crescent-moon stand, various crystals in all shapes and sizes, and a hand-carved wooden chest. I’ve decorated the walls with paintings I’ve bought from Black artists in the city and a tapestry of the moon phases.
Gran gave readings before I took over three years ago.
Once she noticed how good I’d become with the cards, she started assigning me more shifts.
At first, she would sit in the corner and observe, but she left me to my own devices pretty quickly.
I’d go so far as to say I’m one of the best tarot readers in the city. At least, that’s how we advertise it.
“You can have a seat in that chair right there. Let me grab my cards.”
As Joelle sits in the flimsy folding chair, I cross the room to my bookshelf.
Everything in this room is part of the spectacle, especially the spell books lined up on the bottom shelves.
Some look old and weathered, while others are brand-new.
The majority of them are pure tourist fodder.
I keep the most valuable ones safe at home.
Crafting an illusion is a big part of the job.
Mortals may not necessarily assume that I’m a real witch, but they do expect to see certain mystical qualities. It’s why I dress a certain way when I’m in the shop. In long flowing skirts with gold rings adorning each of my fingers. It’s all a performance for their benefit.
Absentmindedly, I rub my hand over the crystal ball on the top shelf and reach for my deck of cards. My fingers tingle as they wrap around the ornate wooden box it’s stored in.
Gran gifted me a set of cards from her personal collection on my thirteenth birthday.
When she realized my talent for divination, she thought it best that I use a set that had sentimental value.
I wouldn’t dare keep those cards in the shop.
If someone were to loot the place one night and take them, I’d be inconsolable.
Instead, I use a standard Rider-Waite set I ordered online.
I put most of my effort into the readings I give to other witches, but it doesn’t take much skill to read cards for tourists.
As long as you put a dramatic spin on it, they’ll soak up any basic explanation you give them.
There are some days when I give it my all and spin a lavish tale of the future that awaits the person in front of me.
I regale them with all the details I can discern from the cards before me and the visions my magic often provides.
But most days, I stick to the generic meanings of the cards and allow the tourists to fill in the blanks with their own life experiences.
I sugarcoat anything bad and accept their twenty-five dollars with satisfaction.
Most of them don’t actually want the truth.
They want the experience so they can go back and tell all their friends at home.
As I sit down across from Joelle, I glance up at her. She’s staring around the room in awe, so she doesn’t meet my eyes. Her heart-shaped lips are slightly parted as she studies the titles of the books on the shelf.
I take a moment to memorize her features while she’s distracted. A light dusting of freckles dots her cheeks, and her hair bounces with every movement of her head. Each strand is a perfectly spring-loaded golden coil. Her eyes are wide in amazement as she takes in the room.
Joelle’s excitement lets me know she won’t be satisfied with my basic reading, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give her my all. If I never get to see her again after today, at least she’ll carry my reading with her.
The box snaps open as I unclasp the seal. Gently, I remove the cards and place them on the table. Joelle’s gaze jumps back to me.
“Before we begin, I have to give you a warning.” I lift my eyes, meeting her stare, and inside my rib cage, my heart skips a beat. God, she’s beautiful.
My inner voice snaps, Focus, Mikaela!
I clear my throat and continue. “Many people believe that tarot cards can predict the future, and readings are set in stone, but that’s not the case.
” I sweep my hands over the cards. “My reading is a guide to a possible future. What I predict may or may not occur. In the end, you’re the only one who can decide your fate.
The cards are only capable of leading you down a potential path. ”
It’s all a lie. Every single word I’ve uttered is a complete fabrication; it’s a script I use for every mortal customer who sits before me.
The truth is that our fate is set in stone from the very moment the cards are laid on the table. But that would be too much for most mortals to handle. People want to believe that they are in full control of their lives.
“How does this all work?” Joelle’s lips thin as her excitement is replaced with hesitation.
“I grew up near Salem, so I’ve seen plenty of ads for tarot readings, but I’ve always chickened out.
” She shoots me a sheepish smile. “But I couldn’t stand to come to another magical city and not have my cards read. ”
“You’re not alone. Most people can’t resist. It’s almost a rite of passage.” I pick up the deck and hand it to her. “Hold the cards in your hands and close your eyes. Think about what you really want to know, shuffle the cards, and then ask me a question.”
“Okay,” she says. She sucks in a shaky breath and closes her eyes. “I can ask anything?”
“Anything.”
Most people are an open book, so I’m pretty good at predicting what they’ll ask and how I can tailor my reading to their life.
I begin studying them from the moment they walk through the door.
If they come into the store hand in hand with a partner, then I tailor my reading toward love and relationships.
If they have kids with them, then I tend to gear my reading toward stressors at home.
Sometimes, it takes a bit of harmless chatter before they reveal what’s truly on their mind, but I’m always able to find it.
Well, almost always.
I’ve been too distracted, so I make a quick observation while she has her eyes closed.
She’s obviously dressed like a tourist, but she’s seemingly got a keen sense of style, too.
She’s wearing handcrafted wooden earrings and a gold charm bracelet.
When I squint at the charms, I can make out a tennis racket, a heart, and a book. So, smart and athletic.
She looks to be around my age, but she came in completely alone. A group of girls wouldn’t split up like this, so it’s possible she’s visiting with family. Her parents could be having a drink in the bar down the street or browsing for souvenirs.
Either way, she’s clearly independent. She can take care of herself in a wild city like this. If she’s my age, then she’s probably headed off to college soon or on the verge of another path that could define the rest of her life.
She draws in a deep breath and shuffles the cards. When she opens her eyes to look at me, she reaches across the table to set the stack down. Her voice rings loud and true without wavering. All of her nervousness has disappeared in the time it took her to decide on a question.
“Where is my life going to take me?”
There are a few different spreads I could use for my readings, but I tend to stick to a three-card spread for its simplicity. I flip over the cards from the top of the stack and lay them out on the table between us.
I gesture to the cards from left to right.
“Each card represents your past, present, and future,” I explain.
“I know you’re particularly interested in what the future card has to say, but we’ll use your past and present to explore who you are as a person.
Both will influence your future and any decisions you make. ”
Joelle leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. “Is it normal for my heart to be racing right now?” She chokes out a nervous chuckle. “I’m both really excited and super scared.”
“Don’t be scared,” I say. “Remember what I said. You’re the only one responsible for your own life.”
My lie calms her, and she nods. “Okay, go ahead.”
I touch my finger to the first card, Joelle’s past. The Strength card features an illustration of a blond woman leaning over a lion and grasping its jaw. An infinity symbol hovers over the woman’s head.
“This card symbolizes bravery,” I whisper as a vision takes over my senses.
A younger, dark-haired Joelle sits in the corner of a dim room with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her knees are drawn up to her chest, and her hands are pressed over her ears. Somewhere in the distance, a door slams as raised voices grow closer. The doorknob begins to jiggle as the vision fades.
My voice is low when I speak. “Did your parents argue a lot?” I ask.
She nods. “How did you know that?”
I ignore her question, instead surging forward with my reading.
“Growing up in a situation like that is stressful for a kid. You had to be strong at an early age.” I rest my hand over my chest. “But you got through that, which means you can get through just about anything. Remember that when you face roadblocks in the future, you’re strong enough to overcome them. ”
She reflects on my words. I can tell that they really resonated with her.
Joelle lifts her chin, emboldened by my words. She points to the second card. “What about this one?”
I touch the second card. The front is painted with the image of a young man carrying his belongings in a bag on a stick and walking toward the edge of a cliff. It’s the Fool.