The Fortune Teller

by Gwendolyn Womack

  The candle on the table flickered, and Doreen swept all the cards back into one pile. The session was over.

  Semele stood up, more than ready to leave. She was unnerved, but she also couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had happened here.

  Doreen took Semele’s hands and clasped them firmly in her own. “I’m here almost every day. You can call too.” Her smile was warm and genuine, her eyes bright with awareness.

  Semele felt the urge to confide in her. No one knew what she was going through. She felt trapped in an alternate reality. An ancient seer was talking to her through a manuscript, and now Semele had her tarot cards.

  What did Ionna want? For her to learn how to use them? Just the thought of it made her shake her head.

  Queen of Wands

  “It’s bad luck to buy your own tarot deck,” Semele read in Tarot for Dummies.

  She looked at the bag on Cabe’s coffee table. She had purchased not one, but two decks at the bookstore, the Rider-Waite Deck and the replica of the Visconti Deck, and brought them back to his apartment. More bad luck. Lovely.

  But as she continued reading the how-to book, the author clarified her position. It was the tarot’s wisdom that couldn’t be bought, not the cards themselves. So people could, in the author’s opinion, disregard this belief. Semele grimaced. At least that was something.

  She moved on to the next chapter. Within an hour she had covered many of the highlights, including the history of the cards and their meanings, some of which she already knew from Sebastian.

  A typical tarot deck was comprised of seventy-eight cards. Twenty-two of those cards were called the Major Arcana, a group of symbolic cards starting with The Fool and ending with The World. “Arcana” meant “mystery of the mysteries, the ultimate secret.” The Major Arcana was the backbone of the tarot.

  Semele got out her new deck and studied each card. There were also sixteen court cards, consisting of four groups made up of a king, a queen, a knight, and a page, each in a suit of cups, pentacles, swords, or wands.

  In a sense, the suits were similar to astrological signs: cups signified water or the emotions, pentacles were the earth and the material world, swords represented air and the mind, and wands symbolized fire and spiritual energy. The numbered cards were organized into four sets of ten cards that ranged from ace to ten. These were also grouped by suit. Every card had a meaning, and together the deck formed a system that allowed the tarot reader to see life’s progression, reflected through symbols and archetypes. A trained reader could use his or her psyche to interpret the answer to any question being asked.

  There was a chapter that discussed the “freak-out cards.” That made her laugh. Yes, she had definitely been alarmed by some of the cards that came up in her reading. But the book explained how Death, The Devil, and The Tower cards, for instance, were nothing to fear. They meant different things at different moments: it all depended on where you were.

  Another chapter explained how to find your soul card by adding up the day, month, and year in your birth date and then adding those digits to arrive at a single number. Semele quickly grabbed a pen and did the math. Her number was two.

  She flipped to the chapter entitled “Pick a Card, Any Card” and was stunned to find that card number two was The High Priestess, the same card she had drawn at the bookstore.

  Semele couldn’t help shivering. She closed the book and put it back in the bag. That was enough card reading for her. She wasn’t ready to attempt a tarot spread, no matter how simple Tarot for Dummies made it sound. Maybe she never would be.

  After Cabe dated Ionna’s cards, she would store them in the safe-deposit box, along with the USB and her father’s translation of the manuscript. This weekend she would read the rest of Nettie’s story and then go to Beijing and get on with her life. She couldn’t do any more than that.

  As if to prove her wrong, her cell phone rang. She answered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Hello?”

  “Semele? It’s Theo.”

  “I know,” she said before she could help herself. Even the sound of his voice affected her.

  “I want to schedule our meeting tomorrow. I’m about to get on the plane.”

  There was so much she needed to ask him, but she wanted to see his face when she did. “I’ll be at the office until noon. I could meet you then?”

  “Let me take you to lunch.” He suggested The Garden at the Four Seasons, where he was staying.

  Semele agreed to meet him there at 12:30 P.M. and hung up.

  Anticipation built inside her, and her imagination began to conjure fantasies about tomorrow, of another kiss on another table. To take her mind off Theo, she jumped on the Kairos server and caught up on the latest industry news. It was the quickest way for her to refocus.

  She smiled when she saw that Christie’s had sold one of George Washington’s personal ledgers for two hundred thousand dollars. She bet the letters Cabe was restoring would do nicely when they went to auction.

  Scanning the rest of the week’s highlights, she noted that Christie’s had also sold a letter written to Beethoven, the original copy of a poem that had influenced van Gogh, and a map of the Siege of Louisbourg. As she read over the auction details, she was amazed at how many custodians and janitors were credited with making these finds while cleaning out old closets and basements. There was so much buried treasure out there in the world, waiting to be discovered, which was why her favorite assignments sent her to the mustiest spaces.

  The next auction she read about made her sit up. J. A. Stargardt in Germany was selling the original handwritten manuscript of Mirabilis Liber, an infamous compilation of prophecies from Christian saints and religious men published in France in 1522. The book was quite popular in its day. Nostradamus had relied heavily on the Mirabilis when composing his prophecies, and there was even speculation that Nostradamus’ father, Jaume de Nostradame, was the anonymous compiler.

  A flurry of articles about ancient manuscripts and prophecies was circulating because of the auction. As Semele clicked on them, her despondency over the theft grew. These articles should be focusing on Ionna’s manuscript, not the Mirabilis, which had been read and analyzed around the globe countless times. She had imagined the manuscript’s announcement would be met with this same kind of excitement, if not more. Now no one would even know it existed.

  She wondered about who was behind the theft, and rage filled her. Again she questioned Raina’s involvement. Were others at Kairos involved too? She had a hard time believing it. Nothing made sense.

  With angry pecks at the keyboard, she logged into her office e-mail to see if any progress had been made on the investigation. There was no news. She had no idea how to talk to Mikhail about Raina, but he needed to know.

  Mikhail had replied to her last e-mail. He was expecting her tomorrow morning at nine. They would finalize Beijing, and he had carved out an hour for them to go over specifics.

  From his curt reply, she could tell he wasn’t happy that she’d taken additional days off. Her flight to China left at noon on Sunday, which didn’t give her much time. Raina had already forwarded her itinerary. Semele was scheduled to be away for a month with the possibility of an extension.

  Raina’s reaction to her new assignment was beginning to make sense. Raina wanted her out of the way. At the time Semele had thought she was jealous of her relationship with Cabe, but now she was certain it was because of the manuscript. Semele would have to talk to Mikhail tomorrow. That would be her only opportunity.

  She was about to reply when out of nowhere a wave of nausea hit her. It was so intense she had to close her eyes.

  Once the worst had passed, she went to the kitchen and drank a glass of water, hoping it would help. Then she checked the time and saw it was already seven. She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe she’d duck out and pick up some Thai takeout. Cabe should be here soon.

  She grabbed her phone to order the food and noticed that she had a missed a call from
him. He had left a voice mail too. Her stomach fluttered again and she had to sit back down.

  How had she missed that? She was about to listen when her phone rang.

  Raina was calling her.

  Just seeing her number made Semele’s nausea worsen. She answered the call, knowing that, whatever this was, it had to be bad.

  “Semele?” Raina’s voice was thick with emotion. She didn’t sound like herself. “Cabe’s been in an accident.”

  The Moon

  It felt like all the oxygen in the room was gone. Semele couldn’t breathe. She sat in shock in the waiting room of Lenox Hill Hospital. Raina was trying to tell her what she knew.

  No one saw the plates. Cabe was outside Kairos when the car had come up right behind his bike. Witnesses said a man wearing a hoodie had taken Cabe’s backpack and run off during the commotion.

  Semele closed her eyes. They wanted the cards. She covered her mouth, about to be sick.

  Raina was an absolute mess. Mascara ran from her eyes and her hands shook as she crumpled and uncrumpled a ball of Kleenex. “I can’t believe.…” She trailed off.

  Semele sat beside her, rigid. Raina seemed truly upset, but Semele could barely look at her. Wild thoughts were filling her head.

  Had the man from the library done this?

  What if Raina had been the driver?

  Just who the hell was this person sitting beside her?

  “How did you find out?” she asked Raina in a dull voice. “Were you with him?”

  Raina shook her head. “He stopped by my office on his way out. The guard on duty at the front desk heard the accident and ran outside.…” Raina wiped her eyes, unable to continue. Her face was red and blotchy. “He said he was going to see you.” Raina looked her in the eye. “Did Cabe call you before he left the office? Did he say anything?”

  Cabe had called her, but Semele had yet to listen to the message. She wasn’t about to tell Raina that.

  “Why?” Semele folded her arms. “Why do you want to know?” she asked, unable to keep the anger from her voice. She looked hard at Raina, trying to see past her weepy exterior and glimpse the truth.

  Raina was involved.

  Semele could feel it in her core. She saw the guilt in Raina’s eyes, along with something that looked like shame. Semele was done pretending. “I saw you outside my apartment that day—with the man who’s been following me.”

  Raina locked eyes with Semele, and for a moment, there was a bridge between them.

  “Were you a part of this?” Semele gritted out the words.

  It looked like Raina was about to answer when her phone beeped and she glanced down at a text. Semele watched her face go hard.

  Raina shut off her phone. “I have to go.” She stood up. “I’ll let Mikhail know what’s happened.”

  Semele grabbed her arm. “Wait.” Raina turned back, her expression now turned to ice. Semele held her ground, her body quivering with fury and helplessness. “I know you know what’s going on.”

  Raina laughed without any humor. “All I know is that someone has taken a personal interest in the Bossard Collection—and doesn’t care who he destroys. Why do you think Mikhail wants you in China?” Raina looked haunted. “I didn’t do this to Cabe. You did. You involved him and he’s paying the price. Now”—Raina wiped her eyes, looking in control again—“I hate you as much as you hate me,” she said and walked off.

  Semele sat down in a daze. She listened to the clicking of Raina’s heels and then the sound of the elevator doors as they closed. Raina was gone but her words lingered.

  Semele stared at her phone, her mind barely able to function. She called Bren.

  He answered on the first ring, a faint sound of hope in his voice. “Semele?”

  “Cabe’s been in an accident. We’re at Lenox Hill.” She completely broke down. “They don’t…” She couldn’t finish.

  “I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

  She needed to let Cabe’s brother know. She had to search her e-mail to find his number. Her hands shook and tears blinded her vision, but she finally found it and got him on the phone. She could hear the panic in Oliver’s voice. He was jumping in his car right away—it would take him two hours to get there from the Hamptons. She promised to call him if anything changed.

  Depleted, she made her way to the ladies’ room. She sat inside one of the stalls and bawled her eyes out. When she was finally able, she listened to Cabe’s voice mail. She had to restart the message twice until she could stop crying long enough to hear what he was saying.

  His voice bubbled with excitement. “Semcat, you’re not going to believe this. This little family heirloom of yours is from about 45 B.C. And that’s not even the most mind-blowing part. Remember how I ran your DNA? My computer matched your sample to the cards. It’s in the paint! I double-checked the hypervariable control regions, and your DNA matches.” He laughed. “Holy shit, right?” She could hear him getting on his bike. “This is amazing. My mind is blown. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

  She listened to the message again, feeling light-headed.

  Her DNA matched the paint?

  That didn’t make sense. What was in the paint? Ancient DNA?

  God, she needed to talk to Cabe. She never should have let him take the cards.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later Bren found her in the waiting room. All the awkwardness between them evaporated as they embraced. Semele couldn’t explain what happened without crying again. They sat together for hours holding hands.

  “He’s going to be okay,” Bren would say every now and then. They both knew it was more like a prayer.

  Semele wanted to believe. She wanted to take all the thoughts running in her head and annihilate them. The surgeries were still under way. Cabe could still pull through. She needed to think positively.

  Around 11 P.M. Oliver walked in and Semele hurried over. “We don’t know yet,” she said and gave him a tight hug.

  Oliver squeezed her back. “That damn bike of his.” He broke down. “I told him not in New York.”

  His words were like a cold shower on her skin. Semele thought back to that day at the lab when she had noticed the bike. She had begun to sense the accident then but had repressed the thought, just like she had all her life.

  And the dream. She’d pulled the dream of the bicycle accident from the recesses of her memory, but she hadn’t understood the message. Then the real question came with punishing force: Why hadn’t she allowed herself to foresee what would happen to Cabe? If she had, could she have saved him?

  She put her head in her hands, unable to bear the truth. Because in the deepest chamber of her heart, in the darkest shadow, she knew her friend wasn’t going to make it.

  He wasn’t going to live, because of her.

  The Sun

  Cabe remained in critical condition. He had survived the first round of operations, but he still had several more to go. The surgeons had to wait for the swelling in his brain to recede, and his doctors placed him in a medically induced coma for the time being.

  Semele gasped when she saw him hooked up to so many instruments. She couldn’t bring herself to sit beside him, afraid that, just by being near, she might make him worse. She didn’t deserve a place by his side.

  The accident had been intentional. There was no doubt in her mind. Someone had wanted the cards.

  She needed to go to the police, but first she had to talk to Theo. She had a feeling he knew who was behind this. Her sense of helplessness was driving her mad.

  She hovered in the doorway while Oliver sat beside Cabe and held his hand. Semele and Bren spent the early morning hours trying to comfort Oliver as best they could, bringing him water and coffee and Kleenex. There was nothing else they could do.

  Then Cabe and Oliver’s parents finally arrived from Santa Cruz, looking travel-worn and teary-eyed.

  Semele felt like an interloper, or maybe the guilt was driving her away. She needed to leave befor
e she completely broke down. She told them she was going home to shower. The excuses tumbled out of her mouth.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Bren offered. She saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes, as if the night together had repaired the damage she had inflicted. He seemed willing to forgive her.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” She watched his face fall.

  “I’ll call you at the first sign of change,” Oliver promised.

  Semele nodded and left, unable to fathom what that meant.

  The minute she stepped out of the hospital she was hit by the sunlight. It woke her up and her mind burned with questions. Who had done this? What should she do? Ionna’s cards were now missing—no doubt taken by the same person who’d stolen the manuscript.

  She thought back to what Raina had said at the hospital. Mikhail’s decision to pull her off the Bossard account was beginning to take on new meaning. He might be involved too. She didn’t want to believe it, but she wouldn’t know unless she confronted him.

  For the first time Semele truly understood Marcel’s message. You can trust no one now. There was perhaps one person left, but first he had to answer one pivotal question.

  * * *

  Theo was waiting for her when she arrived at the Four Seasons. He stood up when she entered the restaurant. The concerned look on his face almost did her in. He left the table and hurried over to her.

  “Are you all right?” He touched her arm.

  Semele shook her head, realizing she must look a mess. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, and her face was surely streaked with mascara from her tears.

  “We’ll be dining in my room instead,” Theo told the hostess, and guided Semele out of the restaurant by the arm.

  The private elevator whisked them up to the thirty-second floor. The Royal Suite had two bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, and a living room with an adjoining den. Semele glanced up at the ceiling and was momentarily trapped by a sense of surrealism. The chandelier was made of mother-of-pearl. What the hell was she doing standing under it?