Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Nothing had gone how Regina planned. First, her sister’s magic had overpowered her own.
Then, Tillie’s brother hadn’t been as easy to manipulate as she’d hoped.
She rushed home after their conversation and pulled out her tarot deck.
She needed a spell, but if it was going to work, she needed guidance.
The house, as always, greeted her, turning on lights as she hurried up the stairs to her room.
When she made it to the attic, she started for the bookshelf.
As beautiful as Tillie’s painted cards were, after the three of swords Regina had pulled, she didn’t want a repeat.
Instead, she turned to her everyday deck.
When she reached for the cards, the shelf tilted, pushing the box toward her.
“Thank you,” she said.
The lights flickered in what felt like a question.
“It’s Tillie,” Regina said. “She wants to take Violet away from us.”
The bulbs dimmed in response.
“Don’t worry,” Regina said. “I won’t let her.”
She whirled around and hurried to her altar, where she shuffled the deck then fanned it out in front of her. As soon as the familiar heat warmed her palm, she flipped the card to reveal the seven of swords.
She held it up in front of her.
It was the same one she’d pulled the other night, when she’d wanted clarification about the three of swords. The floorboards shuffled under Regina’s feet. The house was always curious about her tarot readings.
“I thought it was a card of deception when I pulled it the other day …”
But it was more than that. In the original Rider-Waite-Smith artwork, the card depicted a man stealing five of the seven swords. And that gave Regina an idea. She wanted her magic to be stronger than her sister’s. Perhaps with the right spell, she could borrow from Violet’s power.
She tapped her fingertips against her altar.
Using magic to take something not rightfully hers had consequences, but if it meant keeping her sister and keeping the life she loved, those consequences would be worth it.
She pulled out her journal, hurried down to the workshop, and began preparing a spell.
In her haste, she didn’t see one of the tarot cards had slipped from the table, as if the house had decided to do a reading of its own. The card landed face up on the rug. The five of cups. A symbol of loss and grief and regret.
She’d find it later, but by then, it would be too late.