Tarot

by Marissa Kennerson

  “Why would you do that?” Now it was James’s turn to be angry.

  “To rid Cups of this witchery!” He sounded like the Hierophant King.

  Topper threw down the Cups tapestry, ignoring Daniel, and rolled it out on the floor. He jabbed his finger at the long-haired, broad-shouldered King.

  “Look, we are all here. You, Lara, Terra, Henry—all of us.”

  “She could have woven this while she was here,” Daniel argued.

  “Her friends brought these to her yesterday from the Hierophant’s Kingdom,” Topper said. “I watched as they handed them over to her.” His voice rose. “I was standing right there.”

  “I know it sounds unbelievable, but think about it, Daniel. What’s your first memory? Twenty-four moon cycles ago? If that?” James looked to Topper for help.

  “It explains why we have no parents or children of our own. No history. We came from Anna’s imagination,” Topper explained.

  Anna took a step toward Daniel. “I wove a world just like this one. I wove you, Lara, James, that sea out there, those mountains before I saw any of it. I wove a whole world with four lands, and we are in one of them.” Anna rubbed her dress between her fingers. “I know that’s not an excuse for lying to you.” Anna paused. “But whatever you believe or don’t believe, the King is coming, and we need to protect this land.”

  James stepped in. “She’s created an army to protect us, and we were sneaking back in so she could weave it into the tapestry.”

  “I burned the loom in a rage,” Daniel said slowly.

  James’s face set into a deep frown. “Dan, you didn’t.”

  Topper covered his face with his hands and groaned.

  “How was I supposed to know?” Daniel said, his voice defensive. “Maybe you could have told me that our fate rested on the existence of the loom!”

  Anna bit her lip, thinking. She inched toward him and carefully placed her hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch, but she did not remove her hand. Daniel might be the King, but she was their maker. “You need to go wake Lara and everyone else and tell them what’s happening. Then gather anything we can use as weapons—rakes, brooms, knives.”

  The three young men stared at her in horror.

  “But we are not soldiers.” When Daniel opened his eyes, they were glassy with tears.

  “Today you might have to be,” Anna said, giving his arm a squeeze. “Get creative. Boil hot water to throw from the roof, collect any sharp objects.”

  “We could throw rocks at them,” James suggested.

  “And sand in their eyes to blind them,” Topper added.

  “Keep thinking like that,” Anna said. “He’s got a bigger army, but he’s on the wrong side of this battle. That’s got to count for something.”

  Drake was hungry and cold, still stationed in the forest with the rest of the knights and growing more restless by the minute. But when the soldiers pulled their horses to the side to make way for the guard, he was not prepared for what he saw in front of him.

  His Fool. He could barely walk. The guard half carried, half dragged him through the path between the soldiers. Drake put his gloved hand to his mouth, sure he would be ill.

  They walked the Fool past Drake. His eyes were swollen and bruised, and he was weighed down by chains, struggling to keep his feet on the ground. When he finally reached the Magician and the Hermit, Senator Bassett shoved him forward.

  “Unchain him!” the Magician shouted.

  At the sound of the Magician’s voice, the Fool felt a warmth bloom in his chest. He attempted to smile, but his jaw was tender and the smile dissolved into a twisted grimace.

  The Magician continued, her voice booming over the army. “Unbind us, and then I will manifest the bridge and you can do your worst.”

  “What? No!” the Fool started to struggle, and that was when he noticed Drake, sitting in shining silver armor on a horse behind the King. “He’s been knighted!” the Fool yelped, excited that Drake had finally fulfilled his dream.

  The Magician thought her heart would break inside her chest. If her arms were free, she would have had a very hard time deciding what action to take first—throw a rock at Drake’s head or take the Fool in her arms to comfort him.

  “Drake is no friend of ours,” the Magician rasped to the Fool.

  The Fool stopped struggling, his face blank.

  “He betrayed you,” the King said. He was as restless as his troops and eager to go into battle. “Drake was kind enough to let me know not to trust these two.” He waved his arm in the direction of the Hermit and the Magician. “For which I am very grateful.” He nodded at Drake, and Drake bowed back, but his face was pale and his body was shaking.

  The Fool looked up at Drake and then back to the King. “This can’t be true,” he said. “I don’t believe it.”

  Drake slid off his horse and ran to the Fool. The King narrowed his eyes but did nothing to stop him.

  “I was trying to save you.” Drake came face-to-face with the Fool. “I only betrayed them in order to get you out of the dungeons.”

  “But in doing so, you betrayed Anna, and you know what she means to me,” the Fool whispered. He lifted his chained hands to wipe away his tears.

  “Maybe it was misguided,” Drake pleaded. “But I did it for you.”

  The Fool whispered something in Drake’s ear that the crowd standing around them could not hear. Drake nodded, and the Fool touched his forehead to Drake’s.

  The King let out a sigh of impatience, and Barda looked away, disgust clear on his face.

  “I forgive you,” the Fool said to Drake, their lips inches apart. Drake pressed his lips gently to the Fool’s swollen, bruised mouth.

  “I’m so sorry,” Drake said.

  “Take him to the dungeons!” the King called to Barda.

  “No!” the Fool screamed as two guards grabbed Drake’s arms and tore him away from the Fool.

  “He is not part of the deal,” the King said, pointing at Drake, who did not take his eyes off the Fool as they dragged him away. “If he would betray his lover, then he would betray me.”

  The Fool moved to follow, but the Magician shook her head fiercely.

  “Unchain the other three,” the King called to Barda. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

  Unbound, the Magician started for the clearing where they’d entered Cups, her hand in her pocket, the piece of tapestry clenched in her fingers. The King, Senator Bassett, and Barda followed her a few steps behind.

  “Remember,” she said. “Monsters and giants and lava that will melt your skin off.”

  The three men glared at her as she took her wand from her robes. She relit the candles and swayed slowly, uttering the words of love that had opened the bridge into Cups.

  Barda grimaced. Senator Bassett leaned in close, while the rest watched from a safe distance.

  The Fool stood by, his whole body shaking, while the Hermit rubbed his arm softly.

  When the Magician finished reciting the poetic spell, she pulled her wand back and shoved it forward forcefully, shouting, “Anoixahtaye!”

  Anna tried to pull one of her sewing needles through the threads of her Cups tapestry, but it had snapped in half, no match for its thickness.

  She groaned and threw her head back. People were supposed to be looking for weapons and preparing for battle as best they could, but Anna could feel their eyes peering at her from all corners of the villa’s common room.

  Sitting in the middle of the Cups tapestry, pieced together again like a loose puzzle, she ran her fingers over another needle, imagining it gliding through the threads like silk. She squeezed her eyes shut and stabbed at her tapestry. The needle broke through the thick landscape. Anna’s eyes flew open, and, as she pulled the needle through the other side, a golden light raced up the thread.

  Her fi
ngers darted and flew with an almost inhuman agility. Golden light filled every new stitch and seam and then slowly faded, like pulsing stars. Without the barrier of the loom’s shuttle, her fingers and mind were able to move as one.

  She bound up all the loose threads of Cups, and as she began on her army, her counsel of protectors, Anna heard the others whispering about strategy behind her.

  Daniel had sent a team to act as lookouts at various locations, stationing a larger group at the cove below the library where she had entered Cups.

  She stitched the Hanged Man and Death onto the beach of the tapestry. It would have looked to an outsider as if she were dancing, golden dust trailing her fluid movements.

  In went the Magician, the Hermit, and the Fool. The friends who had taught Anna to learn her gifts and use them wisely.

  Next, she wove in the Empress and the Emperor, followed by the icons of Anna’s past and future battles, the Tower and the Hierophant King.

  Then came celestial bodies of this world—the Sun, the Moon, and the Star. She wove the Lovers into the sea, the warmth of the Sun shining down on them. Anna thought of her and James splashing in the water during her first swimming lesson and smiled to herself.

  On she wove until only three figures remained.

  A loud banging rang out through the villa. “Something is happening at the cove!” a voice shouted from the other side of the front door.

  Anna frantically wove in the final members of her army—the Wheel of Fortune, the Devil, and Judgment. An army of twenty-one, the army of the new world. The keepers of truth.

  She leapt from the table as Daniel, wielding a rake, shouted for everyone to follow him out. Lara ran to Anna’s side, and the two young women stared down at the tapestry. The enchantment had faded. Without the sparkling gold, the threads looked dishearteningly flat.

  “Do you think it will work?” Lara whispered, taking Anna’s hand, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I’m not without hope,” she said. But inside, Anna was not so sure. “You stay here. I am going out there to fight.”

  “I won’t!” Lara protested.

  Anna looked down at Lara’s ankle, still swollen. “I wish you didn’t have to. But you are in no shape to fight.” She kissed Lara’s cheek, took one last look at the tapestry, and ran down the steps to the beach.

  The sky turned black above them, and thunder boomed through the sky. Rain came down in sheets, pelting the knights’ heavy armor.

  “Move aside!” the King shouted, mounting his horse. Barda and Senator Bassett did the same.

  The bridge had appeared.

  The King donned his helmet and felt for the sword at his side.

  A thick fog was creeping in, and the men might have lost sight of the bridge but for the electrifying light, jagged, angry bolts of lightning.

  The Magician stepped aside, saying a silent prayer that Anna was ready on the other end. She noticed the bridge was different this time—what she could see of it at least. The moss had given way to a brown, stinking rot. It looked menacing, like the open mouth of something monstrous.

  The King took a deep breath and dug his heels into his horse’s sides. He half worried the bridge would collapse under the weight of his army. His men began to follow him two by two, squeezing onto the narrow bridge.

  It was frigid. The King would be lucky if his army didn’t freeze before they made it all the way across.

  The King’s horse quickly came to the thick, viscous sludge and whinnied in protest. He dug his heels deeper into the poor beast’s sides, and he pushed through the sticky wall.

  Suddenly the atmosphere changed, and the King felt suffocated in his heavy armor and helmet. The air was thick and hot. Was this the lava the Magician had spoken of?

  The King took a deep breath through his nose and drew in the smell of salt and lush greenery. They were somewhere tropical. Senator Bassett rode up beside him, looking uncharacteristically stunned.

  For a split second the men forgot their mission. The most beautiful body of water they had ever seen stretched out for endless miles in front of them. A blanket of shimmering turquoise, calm and nearly translucent.

  They scanned the shore and saw, in the distance, a motley group of young farmers holding rakes like spears. The King’s men were pouring through the opening now, hundreds of them, their horses pounding through the shallow water. They lined up behind the King.

  He looked at the ragtag group barreling away from them. These were mere children playing at war. The Magician had lied about giants and monsters. The King looked to the Senator and let out a deep, uproarious laugh.

  Down the shore, Anna watched with the people of Cups as the King and his army marched over the enchanted bridge. They should have hidden, in the jungles, at South Farm. They should have sailed away.

  “Run!” she yelled to the people of Cups. They grabbed their makeshift weapons and ran back toward the villa. But they were no match for the King’s horses.

  The King gave the command for his men to charge, and soldiers on horseback galloped toward the people of Cups with sudden speed, swords swinging violently. They slashed and stabbed anything and anyone in their way, kicking up walls of sand in their wake.

  Anna screamed as young people fell all around her, dead or writhing in pain. She watched in horror as they crumpled, defenseless with their pathetic rakes and their broomsticks, their pots and pans.

  She saw Topper running toward a soldier with a shovel held like a spear. But he was no match. The soldier swung a metal ball attached to a chain and aimed it at Topper’s head. The ball tore into Topper’s skull, and he crumpled to the ground on the spot, dropping face-first into the sand, blood pooling beneath his body.

  “No!” Anna wailed, dropping to her knees. She crawled through the hectic scene, dodging horse hooves and flying swords to get to Topper. She knelt beside him, trying to turn him over. She brought his limp palm to her heart, the pumping of her blood drowning out the sounds of clashing weapons and agonized screaming. Something hit the ground beside her and her eyes snapped up. James was standing over her, urging her to get up.

  She squinted at him as he leaned down, whispering in her ear and pulling her to her feet.

  Everything seemed to stand still. The soldiers ceased their onslaught and pulled their horses to one side, creating a path between them in the sand.

  The King rode through on a giant black stallion. He looked regal, with a shining purple sash pinned over his armor. He removed his helmet, showing off a closely cropped head of salt-and-pepper hair. Even his horse was draped with flags, his mane braided carefully with ribbons and tassels.

  Anna glared at him as he approached, but he had not yet noticed her among the wounded.

  “Who is in charge here?” the King roared. He looked indignant as he took in the young farmers, some still gripping their scythes and makeshift weapons, others weeping over the bodies of their fallen friends. “You’re a bunch of children, for stars’ sake!”

  Daniel stepped forward bravely. Anna moved to stop him, but James held her back.

  “No one is a leader!” Daniel yelled. “Everyone is equal, and everyone is free.”

  The Hierophant King let out a deep belly laugh. Daniel stared up at the King, enmity forming a vein in his brow.

  “We are not a joke for your amusement,” Daniel said.

  With this, the King’s mirth vanished. “No, but see, you are exactly that. Your lack of leadership, your ‘everyone is free’ philosophy,” he said in a singsong voice, mocking Daniel, “is the very reason my army will destroy you.” The King leaned forward, wiping sweat from his brow. “I look forward to having this land under my jurisdiction. That sea of yours looks exquisite.”

  Daniel rushed at the King, and two soldiers grabbed him, pinning his arms back.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” the King snarled. “You are
under my rule now. You will wake when I say, eat when and what I say, and sleep when I tell you to.”

  Daniel struggled against the soldiers, and one stuck his knee roughly into Daniel’s spine, bringing him to his knees.

  “I wasn’t finished, young one. Anyone who tries to rebel will be put to death.” He looked down at Daniel. “Understood?”

  Daniel hung his head.

  “Now, where is the girl?” The King’s eyes swept the bloody scene.

  Anna took a giant stepped forward, away from Topper’s lifeless body.

  “I am right here.”

  The King looked taken aback at the sight of her. “This way of life really agrees with you, Anna.” he commented, looking her over. “Too bad I have to destroy it.”

  Anna lunged at his leg and tugged, attempting to pull him off his horse. “You are a monster!” she screamed.

  “Seize her!” the King yelled, and a soldier with blood smeared down the front of his armor yanked Anna back by the arms. The King slid off his horse and walked toward her. He pulled a blade from the belt at his waist and held the tip to her chin.

  “I created this world that you stand in. You are not welcome here!” Anna spat at his feet.

  “Your point?” the King asked. He moved the blade just enough to prick her chin, blood blooming at the blade’s tip.

  “Anna!” James leapt forward.

  “Oh, who is this?” The King waved the blade at James. “Did you find yourself a little love here?”

  “James, stay back!” Anna commanded. “Why are you so full of hate?” she asked the King through gritted teeth.

  “You are so naive, Anna. I don’t hate you. Your father was like a brother to me—until he wasn’t,” he said. He paused, searching for the right words. “Whether I like you or not, whether I admire you or not, you are dangerous, and it is my job to protect our way of life.”

  Anna’s plan had failed; no army was coming to save them. She knew she was about to die, but not before she gave the people of Cups hope.