Chapter Fifteen
The Ten of Swords
Augustine tried to keep her face still as the image revealed itself, but something in her stomach twisted painfully. “So . . . this card represents you,” she said, carefully keeping her voice steady.
“Yeah,” Theo said after a moment. “I can see that.” His gaze lingered on the illustration: a man lying face down, ten swords driven into his back. “Seems about right.”
Augustine nodded slowly. “It’s a dramatic card,” she admitted. “I won’t lie. I haven’t drawn it often. Maybe just once or twice.”
“What does it mean?” Theo asked, still studying the card, his eyes roaming curiously over the fallen man, with a dark night sky above him.
“It indicates a painful ending,” Augustine said, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. “Total defeat. A situation that collapses completely.” She hesitated. “And, um, betrayal, too.”
Theo’s eyes lifted to hers.
“By someone you knew,” she finished softly. “Someone close to you.”
The words hung in the air between them.
“You mean her?” Theo asked immediately. “My girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” Augustine shook her head. “Maybe. Maybe not. That’s why we keep reading.” She gestured towards the card. “But this one . . .” She exhaled slowly. “It’s bleak. As far as the Fates are concerned, what happened to you, it was unavoidable. There was no easy way out of it.”
“So, I was always destined to die,” Theo said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice.
Augustine frowned, looking back down at the card. “We’re all destined to die, Theo,” she offered softly.
“As young as I was?”
“No. But death . . . it comes for all of us, one day. Besides, I don’t think that’s what this card is saying.” She tapped lightly near the horizon of the illustration. “See the sunrise behind the swords?”
Theo leaned closer.
“That’s the important part,” she carried on. “The Ten of Swords isn’t just about the ending. It’s about what comes after.” She met his eyes again. “Truth,” she said quietly. “Revelation. The moment when everything that’s been hidden finally shows itself.”
“Okay,” Theo said softly. “Like the rainbow that comes after a storm.”
“Yeah.” Augustine gave him a small smile. “Kind of.”
“Did you know that a person has a thirty-two per cent chance of seeing a rainbow on a daily basis?” Theo asked her suddenly, and she was surprised by the sudden change in conversation.
“Of course, the odds of seeing one change depending on your geographic location and position relative to the sun, but still, thirty-two per cent. That’s pretty good. ”
“Those are pretty optimistic odds,” Augustine said. “I think I can count on one hand the number of rainbows I’ve seen in London.”
Theo gave a small shrug, but there was something quietly stubborn in it. Augustine studied him. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the card still lying between them. Suddenly, she realized what he was doing.
Theo wasn’t looking at the Ten of Swords like it was the end of his story.
He was looking past it. Past the storm and past the swords.
Past the betrayal and the victim lying broken in the dirt.
He was looking at the sunrise, waiting for it with the patience of a man who only saw the light.
With the hope of a man waiting for the sun.
Augustine felt something shift in her chest. “You’re an optimist, aren’t you? A glass half-full kind of man.”
Theo blinked. “Am I?”
“You are,” she said. “You’re sitting here discussing rainbow statistics after discovering a tarot card that basically says you were brutally betrayed and murdered.”
He considered that. “Is that wrong?”
“No. Not wrong.” Actually, I kind of like it.
She glanced back down at the illustration. “So,” she said, tapping lightly near the glowing horizon again, “how close do you feel to the sun right now?”
Theo’s eyes lifted to hers, something soft and heartbreakingly hopeful moving across his expression.
“I’m fairly certain she’s my sun, Augustine.”
The words were gentle, but she felt them deep within her soul, because she understood immediately.
His girlfriend. Of course.
She looked away quickly, back down at the spread before he could notice the small, unwelcome tug the words caused somewhere behind her ribs.
Right. Just focus on the cards.
Clearing her throat, she slid her fingers towards the next card in the cross. “Do you want to know who betrayed you?” she asked quietly.
Theo didn’t hesitate. He nodded almost instantly.
Augustine turned the card. The High Priestess. Her stomach dropped.
“Who is she?” Theo frowned slightly. “What does she mean?”
Augustine didn’t answer, instead focusing on the image in front of her — the silent woman seated between two pillars, guarding knowledge that wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud.
She’d loved this card, once upon a time.
Loved the dark-haired woman, mysterious and ethereal, in her blue robes, a scroll held tight in her palm.
Until that day.
Put it behind you, she ordered herself. Just keep to the reading. Don’t make it personal.
Still, something uneasy stirred in Augustine’s chest. The Ten of Swords had been dramatic, yes — brutal even — but not unexpected. Theo had already told her he’d been murdered. A card about betrayal and collapse almost felt inevitable.
But this? This felt . . . different. Off. The High Priestess was out of place in this spread, Augustine was nearly sure of it.
Except that she wasn’t out of place, was she? Theo had chosen her. The Fates had offered her. She was exactly where she was meant to be.
“What does she mean?” Theo asked again quietly, and Augustine dragged her eyes away from the card.
“Well,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “The High Priestess represents hidden knowledge. Secrets. Someone who sees beyond what other people can.”
Theo leaned forward slightly, studying the image.
“So . . . someone wise?”
“More than wise,” Augustine said. “She’s higher than that. A woman who can see between the planes. A woman who understands things most people never even realize exist.”
Theo looked up at her. “My girlfriend?” he asked.
Augustine exhaled softly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe. But this card doesn’t usually represent something so ordinary.”
Theo’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, ordinary?”
“I don’t mean your girlfriend, whoever she is, is ordinary. I just mean that the High Priestess isn’t just a woman,” Augustine said carefully. “She’s a guardian of knowledge. Someone who stands between what’s known and what’s hidden. But for some reason, this High Priestess betrayed you.”
Theo’s gaze flicked between Augustine and the card. “You mean like you?”
“I’m sorry?” Augustine froze.
Theo swallowed. “Well, you’re kind of like a high priestess. You can see between the planes. Maybe this card is . . .” He stopped, thinking carefully. “Maybe it’s like you.”
“No, it’s not like me. Not at all.” Augustine looked at him sharply. “What? You think I betrayed you? Shot you? I’m trying to help you, remember?”
Theo lifted his hands immediately, red crossing his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you, I just . . . I meant someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“Well, you know . . . a wit—” He abruptly stopped himself and lowered his hands. “Forget I said that. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just trying to work this all out in my mind. It’s a lot to take in.”
She nodded slowly, and silence settled between them again as Augustine looked back down at the spread as a slow, uneasy thought crept into her head.
A woman with knowledge of the unseen. A woman who understood the forces moving between worlds. Maybe he’s not wrong.
A witch . . . a witch could have done this.
The idea sat heavily in her thoughts. Then, deliberately, Augustine pushed it aside.
Not yet, she told herself. I’ll think about that later.
Instead, she rested her fingers lightly on the next card in the spread. “This card is your future,” Augustine told him. “Are you ready for me to turn it over?”
Theo’s eyes darkened, and he let out a small, humourless breath. “I’m dead, Augustine. I don’t have a future, remember?”
She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again, because there was no easy answer to that. “Okay,” she said finally. “Then don’t think of it as your future. Think of it as . . . what comes next. What you’re supposed to do now.”
Theo didn’t respond, and Augustine took his silence as permission to turn the card slowly.
“Justice,” she read. “In life, there’s supposed to be balance. Cause and effect. Actions and consequences.” She tapped the scales depicted on the card. “With you, something tipped them.”
“The High Priestess,” Theo said.
Augustine winced.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “I don’t know. But this card is telling you the same thing either way.” She met his eyes. “Find the truth about what happened to you. That’s how the scales are reset.”
Theo quietly regarded the card.
“How?” he asked at last. The emptiness had gone from his expression now. Something sharper had taken its place. Something restless. Something angry. “How do I do that?”
Augustine gestured to the next card in the spread. “This one shows the path ahead,” she said. “The direction everything is pointing.”
Theo let out a frustrated breath. “I’m dead,” he said again, more firmly this time. “I don’t have a destiny. Honestly, this is ridiculous. I just want to know who she is. I want to know she’s safe. I want to know what happened. I don’t care about a future path I can’t follow.”
Augustine felt irritation flicker through her. “Look, this is all new for me, too,” she shot back. “But this is how I was taught to read the cards. This is the system I know.” She rested her fingers on the next card. “Ready?”
Theo gave a small shrug. “Sure. Let’s hear what my grand cosmic purpose is.”
Augustine turned the card — and then froze, her fingers stilling above the countertop.
Theo frowned. “Who are they?”
Two figures stood beneath an angel, their hands reaching towards one another. Lush green spread across the garden behind them, vivid and alive, while the sky above burned with a deep, heavenly blue.
The Lovers.