Chapter 14
Candles are scattered around the room, casting shadows along the paneled walls, except for the floor-to-ceiling glass panes connected to the conservatory. In the dark, the surface reflects our images and the flickering flames.
“Please,” Opal says, extending her hand, “have a seat.”
One of Marmee’s narrow end tables has been pulled between us. Lacy black fabric covers it like a tablecloth. On top of it rests a deck of cards.
Opal grabs the stack with both hands and begins shuffling. I’m drawn to the various rings on her fingers, moonstone and black onyx and mixed metals.
“Have you had a reading before?” she asks, smiling.
“Ages ago,” I say. “No offense, this is more of Constance’s thing than mine.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be presenting a five-card cross, which is meant to provide insight into your past, present, and future,” she says, the cards overlapping easily in her hands. “We’ll start your reading with a question. Anything in particular you’d like to focus on?”
“I’m drawing a blank.”
I find it difficult to focus. My attention binds to various items across the room. Family portraits on the walls provide an audience for tonight’s reading and a constant reminder of the past tragedies I can’t escape.
“You’re the birthday girl, right?” she asks. I nod. “Ask a question about the year ahead. It will help you set intentions.”
“Okay,” I say, fighting to hide my annoyance. “What can I expect in the year ahead?”
“See, easy enough,” Opal says, the cards continuing to move rhythmically in her hands. She closes her eyes and inhales before pulling the first card, placing it to my left.
“The Tower,” Opal says, reading the name at the bottom of the card. “This represents your past.”
As expected, the image in front of me depicts a tower, flames climbing from the windows. People appear on either side of the building; they seem to be falling. Jumping?
“You’re going through some intense changes. Something unexpected,” she says.
I’m still staring at the picture, my eyes fixed on the eerie expressions on the characters’ faces. “Yes.” It’s the only word I’m able to manage.
“Whatever you’re going through, you need to let go of old patterns,” she says, “so you can find your most authentic self.”
She begins shuffling again, and I think of everything that’s changed in the past few weeks. I’ve swapped my engagement and wedding for a trip across the world. Unexpected, to say the least.
Opal places another card beside the first. “Three of Swords,” she says. “Your present.”
A heart appears on the card, a rain cloud backdrop. As the name suggests, three long swords pierce the center image.
“Okay, this indicates you’re still processing a certain betrayal or heartbreak,” she says. “I’m sensing deep emotional pain.”
I pull my hands away from the table, placing them in my pockets. My fingers touch the edges of the card, and I’m reminded of the messages from earlier in the night. The birthday card and the note from the library. Nervous energy quivers through me.
“I just called off my engagement,” I say, immediately regretting my words. Why do I feel the need to explain myself to this woman, a stranger?
She nods knowingly. “Makes sense. This coupled with the Tower shows you’ve been betrayed by someone you love. The good news is you can learn something from what’s happened.”
She flips the next card. A beastly image is depicted on what appears to be a throne. Horns at his head, wings at his back. A man and a woman, both nude, appear beside him in chains. The card’s name makes me shiver. The Devil.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Opal says, her voice almost playful. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“It says The Devil,” I say. “That can’t be good, right?”
“It doesn’t have any religious affiliations,” Opal explains, “but it can highlight harmful patterns you’re stuck in.
This card represents that you’re trapped by limiting beliefs or harmful habits, reveals that you might have a tendency to self-sabotage.
” She pauses. “This is a natural card to pull, given what you’re going through. ”
I raise my head, staring into Opal’s light green eyes.
What does she know about what I’m going through?
Is it just because I confirmed I’ve called off my engagement, or has Constance shared more with her?
I don’t like the idea of this woman and her gift coming into Marmee’s house, making assumptions.
My expression unsettles Opal. She begins shuffling again, breaking eye contact with me. “That card represents your future. The next two should provide insight on how you can cope with all the changes in your life.”
She places the next card, which features a person resting by the sea. Their face is turned away, a collection of swords sticking out of their back.
“Ten of Swords,” Opal says. She smiles, hesitantly. “This could be encouraging.”
“It looks like someone has been murdered.”
Opal nods. “This card confirms you’re going through something overwhelming, but it also signifies that the time for grieving is over. This could be the start of a new chapter in your life, but you’ll have to ask different questions if you seek different answers.”
I imagine Opal thinks she’s being enlightening, but to me it sounds as if she’s speaking in riddles.
The imagery on all the cards she’s pulled so far disturbs me.
A stabbed body. A pierced heart. A burning tower and a devil.
I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to make me feel better about the future.
My gaze drifts elsewhere, focusing again on the various pictures around the room.
They’ve been here for decades, yet they look different in this dim light, the flickering shadows making them appear otherworldly.
I study the photos, the whites of the eyes appearing to shine brighter.
They look alive, almost. Likewise, the sheen of various antiques around the room suddenly captures my attention.
Glass vases spotted with paint. Gilded frames that once seemed beautiful, now chipped and decrepit.
I notice a long antique sword tacked to one of the walls; it reminds me of the drawings on the tarot cards.
Opal sighs. “Don’t be afraid.”
“What?”
“The last card doesn’t mean what you think it does.”
My eyes return to the spread on the table.
A skeleton appears on a white horse, a black flag gripped in his hand. A fallen king rests on the ground, a woman and child wearing crowns of flowers beside him. The name reads Death.
“People are usually afraid when they see this card,” she says. “It’s not an omen, but rather, a card of transformation. It signifies the ending of one cycle and the beginning of another.”
I stare at the images before me, each one gaping back at me, in fright. Fallen people. Skeletons. A devil. I’d always thought the macabre intrigued me, but this is different than some Hitchcockian plot; the aura of these cards feels threatening, dark.
“You pulled three major arcana in this reading,” Opal says.
“What does that mean?” I ask, surprised that I sound out of breath, annoyed and yet compelled to finish the conversation.
“They represent major events in your life,” she says. “Whatever you’re going through now will change your relationships with people moving forward.”
“Thank you.” I stand abruptly, the images on the walls and table seeming to haunt me. When I turn toward the conservatory, I jump at the sight of my own reflection. As I’m forced to look at myself, that omen of impending doom returns.
“Really, don’t be alarmed,” Opal says, also standing. “There’s a lot of potential for change in this reading.”
I don’t say anything else. I’m craving a few moments alone, so I walk in the direction of the conservatory, the scent of fresh soil reminding me of a cemetery. I march through the glass-enclosed room, searching for the nearest way out of the house.