by Amelia Oz
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright© Amelia Oz LLC, 2020
This book in portion and entirety is the sole property of the author, Amelia Oz LLC. All rights reserved.
Amazon Edition
First Edition 2020
Published in United States of America
ISBN print book: 978-1-7353940-0-8
ISBN ebook: 978-1-7353940-1-5
Cover & Interior design by: Platform House Publishing
Utkamandarinka/Adobe Images
Zacarias da Mata/Adobe Images
Edited by Rebecca Carpenter
For my husband, who is my wish granted.
For my son, who knows love infinity.
“I want to die while you love me,
While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips
And lights are in my hair.
I want to die while you love me
And bear to that still bed
Your kisses turbulent, unspent
To warm me when I’m dead…”
Georgia Douglas Johnson
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 The Tower
Chapter 2 The Sword
Chapter 3 Moon Reversed
Chapter 4 The Fool
Chapter 5 The Emperor
Chapter 6 The Hangman
Chapter 7 The Chariot
Chapter 8 The World Reversed
Chapter 9 The Hierophant
Chapter 10 Fire
Chapter 11 Death
Chapter 12 The Hermit
Chapter 13 Hermit Reversed
Chapter 14 The Devil
Chapter 15 Temperance
Chapter 16 The Star
Chapter 17 Strength Reversed
Chapter 18 Strength
Chapter 19 Judgment Reversed
Chapter 20 The Hangman Reversed
Chapter 21 Star Reversed
Chapter 22 Justice
Chapter 23 The Seeker
Chapter 24 The Magician Reversed
Chapter 25 The High Priestess
Chapter 26 The Sun
Chapter 27 The Lovers
Chapter 28 The Joker
Chapter 29 The Magician
Chapter 30 Judgment
Chapter 31 The Empress
Chapter 32 The World
Chapter 33 The Wish
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Birthdays
Vivian
ying on my twentieth birthday was not something I planned to do. Not when there was so much to live for, here in this car. My wrist trembled, making it difficult for him to cut through the medical band with the tiny manicure scissors he’d acquired from the nurse’s station.
The baby made tiny snuffling sounds. Could she sense my terror? The books we’d read together mentioned how babies felt their mother’s emotions. Maybe that had only been true when she’d been curled beneath my ribs. Had that only been yesterday? He captured my hand gently and made quick work of his task. We needed to hurry.
“Maybe she’s hungry?” my husband asked softly. The dark corners of the parking lot surrounding us were quiet, the hospital on the hill above us still but for a man hobbling towards its emergency room doors. It wasn’t safe here.
“Anything?” I asked again.
He checked his phone and shook his head.
“No. It’ll come soon.”
How could he be so calm? But I knew the answer. He was calm because I was not. The rock to my storm.
Lasho’s dark eyes shone as he stroked the curve of Stella’s head with a tentative fingertip. “Do you think she’ll grow hair? It will probably be like yours.” Behind this was another question. My own “gifts” hadn’t appeared until six years old. His voice shifted to a husky whisper as he leaned close to our daughter. “You’re going to be brave and fierce like your Mamma.” Her soft sounds quieted.
“She knows your voice,” I murmured, swallowing past the lump in my throat. He flashed me a shy grin and his eyes were so full of love it was almost enough to distract from the terrible choice we were making. I’d ruined his life.
“I would do it all again. No matter what,” he said, reading my mind as if it were his own. His words cut deep, undeserved as they were, but I smiled to reassure him. He looked so young, so exhausted.
“Let’s go. I’ll feed her as you drive,” I urged, my soul bleeding. She looked too tiny for the newborn car seat Lasho had installed in the backseat—and I selfishly couldn’t let go of her. His fingers threaded through my hair and cupped the back of my head, drawing me close until our lips touched.
“We agreed to wait for the signal. We can trust him. They’ll protect us.”
I nodded but inside I screamed hurry, hurry. He snapped my seatbelt in place just as the soft chime of a text message filled the car. He scanned the screen, winked and started the engine.
Lasho navigated the car to the road and when no one came running from the hospital I released a pent-up breath. It was two in the morning on a weeknight, which meant the highway was mostly quiet but for the big trucks carrying goods through California. As the baby settled against me, I stared through the window at the dark evergreen trees and big leaf maples, their orange and gold hues subdued in the moonlight. Their shapes whipped past, and I strained to see some sign of our protectors.
A mysterious pattern of shadows emerged, a racing form that kept pace with the car. I blinked, my heart stuttering and then thudding hard. The apparition was dense, weaving several yards behind the tree line, dipping to the shoulder of the road in taunting swoops before skimming between the blurring branches. A face formed within those shadows, its eyes ghastly, hungry and locked on mine, while its body remained a thick mass of streaming grey matter. Black lips formed into a mocking, nightmarish grin.
“Drive faster.” My voice, hoarse and low, conveyed everything important. The engine roared and we leapt forward. The wraith matched our speed as the moon trailed from above. Lasho shifted gears and the scent of something burning drifted through the vents.
“Go faster. Please.” My lips pressed the tender flesh of our daughter’s forehead. I wished she’d waited a little longer to be born. I wished for her to be courageous and to be loved and to live a very long life. I wished we’d known about the curse much sooner. I wanted a lot of things. The wraith grew in size as another form merged with it so that it blanketed the side of the car. I turned from it, staring at the dark ribbon of road ahead.
“Should I stop?” I shook my head, too weak from her birth to help him make a stand.
We reached the top of a hill and the lights of a truck appeared in our lane approaching from the opposite direction. His arm crossed my body protectively as the massive shadow suddenly covered the windshield, blocking our view of the danger ahead. A scream ripped from my already ra
w throat, a denial from the deepest recesses of my soul. “No!” I clutched my little family, the three of us one for a last moment before there were no more moments left.
Chapter 1
The Tower
Stella
top wasting time and just jump!" my cousin shouted over the waterfall's roar.
I glared at Silvan, who posed bare chested at a much safer distance from the cliff's edge. He leaned against the mossy rock wall, watchful as I smoothed my damp hair into a haphazard topknot. His poetic good looks, with tanned features and tousled brown curls to his shoulders, were a bold-faced lie. Right now, he was evil as fuck.
"You could just lose the dare," he suggested with a sneer. "Maybe you really want an eighteenth birthday party. Balloons at the Portland Beer Garden and all the Vano boys asking you to dance."
I finished securing my hair and flipped him off. He wanted me to beg off or negotiate, so I kept my mouth shut. Although at least a foot shorter than my cousin, I was also a year older, which should have entitled me to a little more respect. He leaned towards me. Tsk-tsk. I fought dirty when cornered, a fact he seemed to remember when he paused mid-step.
"Steellaa! Nooo…". I peered over the edge and located Amanda along the opposite side of the river. My best friend hopped and waved as a growing group of men with backpacks surrounded her. I bit my lip. We’d left her alone—but to be fair we usually never saw others this far off the trails.
"She's gonna kill you,” Silvan noted with interest, leaning back once more.
"She'll kill you first when I tell her you dared me." I taunted, breaking my silence.
The dare had been Silvan’s idea, but the race to the top of the cliff had been all mine. We’d left her pulling up plants and mumbling to herself about blah, blah herb collecting blah, blah Oregon soil blah, blah when we’d sneaked away. The water below cast an iridescent shimmer and I dragged in a deep breath of pine and rain scented air.
“Hey, does this remind you of that thing you were painting with two people falling off a cliff?” I rolled my eyes at his description of the Tower card. The Major Arcana tarot card was often positive—symbolic of change and adventure—definitely not a harbinger of death. At least I didn't think so. Could death be considered an adventure?
"Bok, bok," teased Silvan. I glared and he threw his palms up with a laugh. "Okay! I take back the dare. I won't suggest a birthday party to Baba—and I don't have to play Fortnite with you. You trash talk and you're a terrible team player." Geez. I’d shot his avatar in the face once, and it had been an accident. Sort of.
“Besides, I knew you wouldn't jump sixty feet. There's a reason they call this the Devil's Prayer—and that water is spring-fed.” Allowing Silvan to gain the upper hand would be...galling. Never show weakness. The world drinks the tears of the weak. I tucked my white t-shirt into black yoga shorts.
“Game marathon this weekend, snacks on you—and no crying.” His smirk collapsed into a cautious frown just before I launched myself off the ledge. The fall was both endless and swift. A quick slice through the surface and then the world became a violent vortex of bubbles. Small stones shifted beneath my feet before I launched upwards, the waterfall's pounding spray masking my squeals of victory. Breathless, I kicked backward but there was no sign of Silvan above.
Amanda waited on the riverbank with a faded beach towel draped over folded arms. I dogpaddled slowly towards her, taking my time. When my palms scraped bottom, I looked up and grinned, flashing my signature dimples. Her face remained stony. Oh boy. The hike back to the car was going to be very, very long. I sighed and rose to pick my way over slippery stones to where she stood on a flat rock, her own sneakers submerged to their laces. Amanda often tried to overcompensate for my motherless state—something I didn't need.
"Did you see Sil push me?" I asked between chattering teeth. She exploded.
"Don't even start with me, Stella! I saw you leap off that ledge! When are you going to stop being so impulsive? That was easily a six-story drop and there could have been downed trees beneath the water..." Her voice ended in a low hiss, as she darted a glance at our audience. The strangers were speaking to one another in hushed tones, and Amanda returned her attention to me.
Now that we were within arm's reach, I noticed her sweaty and pale face, her ponytail half undone. A true beauty, with dark brown hair and hazel-green eyes, she resembled her hero, Audrey Hepburn. She gripped the towel with white knuckled fists. My smile dissolved. Amanda was not someone who flustered easily.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you this much. Really—I'm fine. We checked the depth first and everything," I lied. That actually would have been a good idea. Her lips trembled as her gaze slipped over her shoulder. She stepped close and leaned towards my ear.
"Do you trust me, Stella?"
"Yes." It was true. I'd known her since we were seven years old, more like sisters than the only children we were.
"Go back into the water until these men leave."
What? I looked down at my sleeveless t-shirt. Sports bra firmly in place, no boobs visible. I scanned the guys behind her.
"Don't look!" She dug her short nails into my forearm. I yelped and rubbed the tender spot.
"This water is glacial," I protested with a shiver.
"I'll explain later. Just keep standing in the water. Please!" Her imploring expression bordered on desperate. Amanda was the most rational person I knew. She was responsible, helping her mom run a successful mystical shop that sold things like crystals and incense for spiritual seekers and yoga moms. She was not a drama queen. I frowned.
"Scarlet."
She said it. The word we’d made up stories about. The word we agreed meant that a serial killer was behind the door or an earthquake was about to swallow us if we didn't run right that second. With rounded eyes, she mouthed it once more as I stared in disbelief.
Scarlet.
I stepped backwards until my ankles submerged in the clear current. My elastic band had snapped in the fall, leaving me with a heavy mass of dripping hair down my back. A sudden breeze rustled the treetops and raised gooseflesh upon my chilled skin.
Her brow furrowed as her hand twisted the necklace at her throat.
"Whatever you do, don't leave the water,” she warned. I snapped my teeth together, throwing up my hands. She acknowledged my compliance with a slight nod.
“Why can't she leave the water?" asked a deep voice.
Amanda's face flashed alabaster-pale as I leaned sideways to better see the stranger who spoke. The ends of his russet hair shone gold in the sunlight, and with his gunmetal eyes he would have been classically handsome had his face not been marred by a scar over his left eyebrow. His clothes were too new and expensive for a local, seasoned outdoorsman. Too aw-shucks ma'am looking to be a rapist-murderer—although that might just make him a successful one.
Amanda floundered, her lips parting a few times without sound. I cut in, my natural sarcasm taking over. "We're doing an experiment on hypothermia."
He smiled ruefully and gave me a once over. Few people ventured this deeply into the forest outside of deer season, as there were only ancient, overgrown wagon trails and most people preferred the neater, public park trails. The other men in the clearing remained silent, their unsmiling faces fixed on me. The man with a scar studied the tree line of subalpine firs on the opposite shore. I squeezed the ends of my wet t-shirt, tugging it away from my skin.
"That jump was very impressive."
"Thanks." At least someone appreciated my bad-assery. Amanda's slender nostrils flared, and my smirk faded. Scarlet. He shrugged and turned away, only to return with a wagging finger.
"It's just that…I've never seen anyone fall so slowly before. You drifted down like a snowflake. Maybe because you're so small..." He trailed off as his eyes scanned my wet legs.
Amanda jerked towards him, flinging the towel over her shoulder. "Haven't you heard of Galileo? The acceleration and veloci
ty of objects falling near the earth's surface fall with the same speed—9.8 meters per second squared. Petite or not, she fell at a normal rate." Amanda, ever the science nerd, tended to spew random facts when she was nervous. The guy was a serious crackhead, though. No one fell “slowly” without hitting something on the way down or a parachute attached. Maybe she’d said the safe word because she’d seen them do drugs? Still didn’t fit. The safe word was the equivalent of a house on fire.
I forced a laugh and gave the stranger a wink. "It felt like only seconds to me."
"Right. Hey, what’s wrong with me? Two girls alone, so far off the main trails—we must be making you nervous.” My arms crossed but Amanda made a warning grunt before I could snark back at the arrogance of his question.
“You’re shaking. Would you like my jacket?" He unzipped the fabric, revealing a taut physique—and a handgun nestled in a shoulder harness. His bashful smile never wavered. I'm just a harmless fella with a Glock.
Orphaned since my first week of life, my maternal, overprotective grandfather had raised me to respect "stranger danger" and the importance of self-defense. That included teaching me about guns and making sure I could handle them with confidence. This was the Pacific Northwest after all, an area the FBI nicknamed the "killing fields" for a reason. Bodies were easy to hide and evidence quick to decompose in the moist climate of the Cascade and Olympic Mountain ranges.
"That's a decent weapon." It wasn't completely irrational that someone afraid of apex predators would bring a gun through denser, more isolated areas of these forests. The thing was, most bear and cougar hunters would've packed rifles, not pistols. Not unless they wanted to become a meal.
The stranger's smile was friendly as he ignored my comment and shrugged out of his jacket. When he held it out to me, I noticed he stayed well back from the water's edge. I would have to step out of the water to accept the jacket.