I noticed that the cards were larger and thicker than the usual cards I'd played with. She mumbled to herself most of the time, her voice as soft as silk against satin. She began laying the cards out as if she were playing Solitaire.
I had some trouble figuring out the suits.
There were paintings of a man hanging by one leg, men and women with swords and cups, cards with fools, lovers, and buildings being struck by lightning. Each one seemed to have been drawn by a different artist.
I had no idea the Tarot fad had lasted this long.
She finished laying out the cards in a sloppy pattern. For a long time she just sat and stared at them. Her dark gaze flitted between scanning the cards and glancing at me and Ann. She said nothing.
'Well?' I asked after a few minutes. I was getting antsy.
She held up one hand and scooped up the cards with the other. Ann opened her eyes to look at me and smile, shaking her head a bit. She turned toward Bridget and closed her eyes again.
The old dame reshuffled the deck, murmuring in a low tone. I sighed and looked around the room.
The curtains-colored a rich, earthy hue of redwood soaked in burgundy-blocked almost all the noise from outside. The only sound in the room was the slide and slap of cards being redealt.
When she'd laid out the cards, only silence remained.
After a long wait, Ann cocked open one eye to look at Bridget. The old woman gazed from Ann to the cards, then back again to Ann. She appeared amply astonished.
'Blessed be,' she muttered in a breathless old voice. '
' The shout sounded like a gunshot.
The girl entered quickly.
'Fetch me two orange candles and the large purple one. Remember to mark them down as office use in the inventory.'
Kasmira nodded and whirled about to leave. Even in her haste, she maintained an air of otherworldliness.
'Over here,' the crone said, making her way to the altar. Her cane tapped against the wooden floor like a skeleton's heel. She eased down, took a moment to adjust her dress, then began to arrange things on the top of the low table. She made with small talk all the while.
'What do you do for a living, Mr. Ammo?'
I shrugged noncommittally. 'Find missing movie stars, prevent world wars, calculate batting averages-the usual.'
She set a couple of white candles on the table around a chalked-in star. The five-pointed variety. She harrumphed and continued.
'The aura of death that you radiate-is that the usual, too?'
That made me frown. I never thought of myself as a particularly transparent person.
'A living soul projects many aspects,' I said. That ought to amuse her.
'So it does, Mr. Ammo. So it does. On this plane and others. I see death in Malkuth-the sphere of Earth. Higher in the Tree of Life I see-other manifestations.'
'I see.' I didn't see.
Kasmira stepped in with the three candles. Bridget took them and thanked her. 'Now watch the store, dear, and don't let anyone-or anything-disturb us.'
'Yes, Grandmother.' The girl tipped her head and ducked out of the room. The door swung shut, closing with a muted whoosh.
'It would appear, Mr. Ammo,' the old dame said, 'that you have an impressive destiny awaiting you.'
