The Magical Tarot Deck

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The Magical Tarot Deck Page 21

by Marieke Lexmond


  In the meantime, at Under the Witches Hat, Ron is restocking the bar. It’s still quiet at this time of day. The mundane task helps him to gather his thoughts. His family was shaken by what happened to Lisa. Selma, who is usually such a rock, lost it, and for the first time, she had expressed doubts about his family and about him being a witch. Unfortunately, it’s not something he can switch off. His children are witches too, and they have to learn to deal with it. Every family has problems but, as Selma had reminded him, not this kind of problem. On top of all that, Lucy had started to torture Bridget. That did it! Selma is staying home and keeping the children with her until this is all sorted out. He misses her steady presence; she does a lot for the bar during the day. They’re a team. It may be for the better though, this way, he knows where they are.

  Satisfied, he looks at his work. Everything is filled up and neatly organized, ready for another day. The first customers will show up in about half an hour. He leafs through the schedule, no readings till eleven. The sound of the front door opening startles Ron, and he drops the book.

  ‘You’re already here.’ sounds Gwen’s melodious voice. ‘I came early to restock,’ she peeks behind the bar, ‘I’m too late I see.’

  Ron picks up the book before he faces her. They’re lucky Gwen is willing to fill in, she’s such a talented witch. He gives her a warm smile. ‘Thank you for thinking about that.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do. How’s Lisa?’

  ‘Lisa is doing okay, all things considered. She’s shaken up, but young kids usually bounce back quickly. I’m actually more worried about Selma.’ He didn’t intend to confide in her, but her warm presence relaxes him. ‘She’s never had any trouble before with me being a witch.’ He waves his arm around to include the bar. ‘And all this—she’s been my rock. And now…She’s angry and wants it all to stop.’

  Gwen puts a comforting hand on his arm. ‘A mother’s instinct is powerful. Her child was threatened. It’s normal. Give her a little space. She’ll be back to normal before you know it.’

  ‘Thanks.’ It’s incredible how a few kind words are able to reassure him that all will be well.

  He opens the book again. ‘There are a couple of readings from eleven on, back to back, do you mind doing that? Or do you prefer the bar?’

  Gwen laughs, ‘It doesn’t sound like you want to do them. I don’t mind, a few readings sound like a mellow start to the day.’

  ‘You’re too kind.’ jokes Ron. ‘For compensation, can I offer you a tea maybe?’

  ‘I would love that. Do you have something with fennel? My stomach is playing up.’

  ‘I’ve got just the thing.’ Ron goes to work.

  When Diane comes in, she finds Ron and Gwen chatting at the bar over a cup of tea.

  ‘Hi, Ron, Gwen.’ Their conversation immediately halts. Diane’s presence always feels a bit aloof, as if you just can’t reach her. ‘Gwen, any changes in Bridget’s situation?’

  Ron looks shocked, he had totally forgotten to ask about her.

  ‘No change. Wes and Maeve are keeping her company. It’s heartbreaking to see someone in that condition,’ replies Gwen.

  ‘This woman seems to stop at nothing. Witches don’t do that to each other.’

  ‘She didn’t hesitate to kill my sister for the Dagger.’ Gwen’s eyes fill up, as she tries desperately to keep her grief in. Ron gets up and envelops her in a hug, and Gwen lets go, tears streaming down her face. She holds onto Ron while she lets it all out. The loss of her sister, the tension of living among relative strangers. Over her shoulder, Ron and Diane exchange glances. How could they have forgotten their family is in real danger. Lucy has killed before, and she won’t hesitate to do it again. Diane quietly makes her way toward the backroom while Ron comforts Gwen.

  SOMEWHERE ON THE I-10

  ‘Where to next?’ asks Tom. ‘We’ve passed El Paso, and soon the junction between the I-10 and I-25 will be coming up.’ Luna has been uncharacteristically indecisive. She usually has no trouble making any decision, but with Bridget’s life at stake, things have changed.

  Tom has seen this type of behavior many times before with his work, and it is horrible to see it happen to the person you love. Yes, love. He can admit it to himself. This woman has taken his heart by storm.

  There’s a gas station at the next exit, so Tom turns off and pulls up to the gas pump, gets out, and pumps some gas. The tank is still half full, but that gives him an excuse to stop; they need a minute to think things through. Luna stares down at the ley line map and is startled when Tom opens her door. ‘Do you want some tea?’

  ‘Yes, please. I don’t know what we need to do. Down there is the biggest ley line crossing.’ She points somewhere along the Arizona–Mexico border on the map. ‘This one goes up further north, a little less powerful than that one, but it’s still a big crossing.’ Even Tom can feel her indecision, and he’s definitely not a witch.

  ‘What would you normally do in a situation like this?’ Tom asks her, trying to snap her out of her uncertain state of mind.

  ‘I would divine with a pendant or ask the cards.’ She answers without thinking.

  ‘Why don’t you do that?’

  Luna looks surprised, why didn’t she think of that? ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ll get us something for the road. And you do your thing.’ Tom points at the map.

  When he closes the door, Luna rummages through her pockets and finds a pendant. Okay, a pendant it is. She turns around in her seat and sits on her knees while she stretches the map out on the back seat as best as she can. Carefully, she tries to flatten it out. For a moment, she lets the pendant dangle in front of her face and mumbles a cleansing spell—the only thing she can do on such short notice. Putting it in a little stream of rushing water or a full moon would have been better. But beggars can’t be choosers. It’s time. She closes her eyes and tries to ground herself, thinking about the house, the power of the ley lines, the feeling the house invoked. Slowly, she opens her eyes and moves the pendant steadily over the map. First it swings toward the most significant crossing in Arizona, nothing. Then she follows the line from El Paso, all the way up to the crossing close to Salt Lake City. The pendant starts to swing furiously. Right! Satisfied, she leans back. Tom watches her from outside the car; this witch stuff still makes him wary. It seems like she’s done, so he opens the door and hands her the tea. ‘And?’

  ‘Salt Lake City.’ She says triumphantly. Quickly, she gives him a kiss. ‘Thank you. That was so helpful.’ He smiles at her, starts the car, and heads for the I-25. It’s going to be at least a fourteen-hour drive.

  UTAH

  Lucy walks in circles around the card, studying Bridget from every angle, while she fondles a pin in her hand. Her granddaughter might want to follow the rules, but Lucy has a hard time being patient. The collar is itching around her neck, and the frustration of feeling her magic and not being able to use it is driving her crazy. It has to come off now! She needs the Dagger! Again, she circles the card, finding the right spot to place the pin. Voodoo is one of the many things she has studied, so she does know a few things about it herself. One pin more or less is not going to kill the girl. Now Bridget is curled up in a ball, so the only real good option is her back. Hmmm, upper back, or lower back. What difference does it make? Without further hesitation, Lucy pushes the pin into Bridget’s lower back. She screams and uncurls for a moment, pain and anguish on her face. Lucy shouts right in her face ‘Give me the Dagger!’

  Bridget screams again and again; Lucy finally makes out the word ‘Never!’

  Mara runs into the room and quickly hides her disappointment when she sees an additional pin sticking in Bridget’s back.

  Bridget’s screams echo through the room and abruptly stop as she passes out.

  ‘Damn it!’ exclaims Mara. Better not say anything else. Grandma doesn’t take criticism very well.

  ‘It was worth a try.’ says Lucy as she brushes past Mara and leaves the room.


  NEW ORLEANS

  When she hears Bridget’s cries of pain reverberating through the house, Tara comes running. Maeve and Wes desperately try to reach Bridget, but there’s nothing they can do. Her half state leaves them helpless.

  ‘What happened?’

  Maeve sobs, ‘They put another pin in her.’

  Bridget screams one more time and passes out.

  ‘What are we going to do? This can’t go on. I can feel her pain, it’s—’ Maeve can’t find the words and tears stream down her face.

  Tara is crushed to see her granddaughter this way; it’s devastating. Then she remembers her earlier intention. Be active, not passive. While she tries to shake off her sorrow at seeing Bridget this way, a million thoughts run through her head. ‘We need to try to reach her. Maybe we can give her extra strength to survive this.’

  Maeve looks at Tara, shocked.

  ‘Maybe through our blood or something. We are witches; we need to be able to find a way.’ Tara goes on, misinterpreting Maeve’s reaction.

  Maeve looks from Bridget to Tara, to Wes. ‘You’re right.’

  She hugs Tara, who is taken by surprise. ‘Wes and I will get something to eat to get our blood sugar up, and then we’ll get this going. Do you mind staying with Bridget for a little while?’

  ‘Of course, I will see if I can think of a spell.’

  After another kiss, Maeve drags Wes away from Bridget.

  In the hallway, he finally finds his voice. ‘What’s that all about? We can’t leave her!’

  ‘Gran is right, we should have tried to reach her through the card.’

  Wes’ face changes to hope when the penny drops. ‘Right. Let’s go.’

  They hurry upstairs and go into Wes’ atelier. He takes down the painting he’s been working on and reveals the card still standing on his easel. Quickly, they embrace in the same way as on the card and try to activate it. It shimmers and bulges, then nothing. Again, they try, and the card reacts but won’t come alive. Apparently, it doesn’t work with Bridget in a half state.

  ‘Fuck.’ shouts Maeve. ‘I thought this would work.’ Overcome with gloomy thoughts, Wes just stands there hanging this head.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Now, we go back downstairs, and Gran and I are going to get something figured out.’

  FAIRY

  Ceri’s eyes snap wide open, as she too feels Bridget’s pain. It had snapped her out of her shock. Panicked when she realizes she is lying in water, she starts thrashing her legs up and down. The water feels warm, and when she dips down and comes back up, she can taste the salt on her lips. There’s a weird sensation around her waist, and she freezes. It’s like little hands are gently touching her skin, it makes her scream, what the hell is that?

  ‘Calm down, calm down,’ sounds the reassuring voice of Cephalop. He swings her around so she can see him. Another scream escapes her before she manages to get a grip on herself. Slowly, her brain kicks back into gear, and the weight of everything that has happened starts pressing down on her again.

  ‘Look at me!’ The octopus fairy demands. When she looks into his alien eyes, calm and reassurance start to take hold. He must be messing with her brain, and at first, she resists, but the calm is so much better than the earlier horror. Why not go with it?

  ‘Better?’ He asks gently now.

  ‘Thanks, I’m losing it.’

  ‘I know. It has been affecting Fairy.’

  Confused, Ceri looks around. How is she ever going to process this all?

  ‘You’re now connected to the Land of Fairy. If you’re unwell, the Land will react and becomes unwell. We don’t want that.’ She can see compassion in his eyes. Can she trust him?

  ‘I would say yes, at least I’m not playing against you. Your house and my house go back a long way. I owe Felaern a lot.’

  The mention of her father’s name almost makes her tumble back into the abyss she just came from.

  ‘Look at me.’ The calm alien eyes keep her there. ‘I’m sorry I startled you, but when you collapsed, we had to get you out of shock.’

  ‘We?’ Again, Ceri scans the room. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘I’m still here,’ sounds the calm voice of Sparkle, ‘The last time I talked to you, I made things worse, so I didn’t want to scare you by being the first one to speak.’

  Ceri lets out a big sigh. ‘Right. You can let me go now.’ She says to Cephalop. Immediately, she feels the tiny suction of his tendrils subsides. This is the weirdest thing ever and too intimate for words. Not something she can add to her brain space right now. How can she stop herself getting sucked back into her thoughts? She has always been such a happy person, or at least she has never felt overwhelmed by anything. She simply doesn’t have a clue how to deal with all that has happened.

  ‘We need to get you well.’ Cephalop penetrates her train of thought again.

  ‘I need a valium. That seems to help Diane when she gets overwhelmed by her visions.’

  ‘A valium?’

  ‘Some drug, it calms you down.’

  ‘Drug?’ The expression on Cephalop’s face is priceless; his octopus face is weirdly comical when he’s puzzled, and this makes Ceri laugh. Her happiness turns into a sort of hysterical laugh. This makes Cephalop very nervous; he’s not equipped to deal with a half-human.

  ‘Ceri, please. We need you.’ whispers Sparkle in her head. ‘You need to calm down. Focus on one thing at a time. We’ll get you help.’ Quietly, Sparkle starts to hum a comforting lullaby in her head. This brings Ceri back to earth.

  ‘You’re right. One thing at a time. But where do I begin?’ Her rhetorical question hangs in the air. They don’t know either, as they don’t really know what’s going on. Or do they? Sparkle knew Felaern’s dalliance with Tara, so probably the whole of Fairy knows. This sobers Ceri up a bit, and her old self slowly emerges. If she doesn’t want to go mad, she needs to help herself. Step one, why did she wake up? Something had jolted her awake.

  For the first time, she really takes in her surroundings, she’s in an alien place, somewhere she has never been before. Despite the strange forms and colors, no apparent furniture, and a lot of water, she realizes it’s somebody’s home. It must be the octopus’ house. He doesn’t say anything while he lets her process this. Finally, she turns to him and makes a slight bow, which is horribly awkward, as she’s completely naked and standing in a salt bath.

  ‘Thank you for helping me.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure, Ceri Madigan, Keeper of the Land.’ He makes the most majestic bow, and with his tendrils flowing through the water, his body makes much more sense here than on the land.

  Trying to be casual, she asks, ‘Where are my clothes?’ Her nakedness doesn’t seem to bother him at all. As if on cue, Alvina appears with her clothes. Better not ask.

  ‘You’ve been hibernating for a while.’ answers Cephalop.

  ‘Can you read minds?’ She looks at him.

  ‘I’m sensitive, and you’re now an open book to anybody. You need to protect yourself again.’

  ‘Okay…’ Better get dressed though; this being naked in the water is making her uncomfortable.

  Quickly, she gets out and is dressed in record time. So much better. With two hands, she grabs the air, mumbles a protection spell, and makes a motion to draw it around her before she turns to face Cephalop. ‘Better?’

  His alien face produces what she thinks is a smile. ‘Great.’

  Then she focusses on Alvina, ‘Can you make me something like a calming tea?’

  ‘I can make you something that relaxes you, yes. Mistress.’ Her usual bow follows, Ceri wishes she would stop doing that. Now she focuses on trying to avoid thinking about anything. Unfortunately, that takes up almost every ounce of her brain power.

  Slowly, she becomes aware of pain in her middle finger and when she looks down, she sees thorns from the spell wedged into her skin, little drops of blood drip to the floor. Shit. That must have woken her up. Something must have worsened
for Bridget. For a quick moment, she opens herself up for the connection to Bridget, and a wave of pain comes through. When she reaches out to Bridget with her mind, she finds her unresponsive. Is she unconscious? She needs to get back to the Madigan house. With a swirl of her finger, she’s about to open a portal—

  ‘Wait!’ Cephalop says it with so much authority that her hand falls down. ‘Please, Mistress of the Land, you need to heal us before you go.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ demands Ceri.

  Gently, the octopus fairy leads her to a window. When she looks outside the Honeycomb, usually a lush green meadow with a forest as far as the eye can see, it seems like fall. Leaves are falling from the trees, and the grass is turning brown.

  ‘I guess there is no fall in Fairy?’

  ‘No.’ answers Sparkle this time. ‘You’re the Keeper of the Land now. That means you and the Land are intimately connected. If you’re feeling unwell, the Land starts to wither away and vice versa.’

  ‘I can’t do this!’ She can’t possibly handle this responsibility on top of everything else. It means she will never be free of Fairy. To admit this to herself hits her hard. Mab has been telling her just this, but to feel the full responsibility is overwhelming.

  Cephalop sees her slip, quickly he envelops her in a hug with his eight arms. His synapses massage her head. ‘Stay with me, Ceri, stay with me.’ This is so strange and weirdly comforting that her thoughts slowly regain focus.

  ‘Where do I start?’

 

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