yellow covers. 'They sure made them nice in those days.'
'What book is it?' asked Sarr. He made no move to touch it.
'Oh, I remember now,' said Freirs, unwrapping the small package. 'It's a story collection, that's all. I need a couple of things in it for my project.'
'I borrowed it from Voorhis,' Carol added. 'I'm supposed to take it back with me tomorrow.'
Deborah picked it up and examined the spine. 'Oh, I see,' she said, 'it's a library book. The House of Souls' She smiled at Freirs. 'This looks like it'll send you off to dreamland, all right!'
Freirs had undone the white paper and was examining the slim cardboard packet inside. ' 'Dynnod,' ' he read, puzzling out the ornate gold letters on the front. He opened the flap at the end. 'Hmmm, it's a set of cards of some kind.'
'Rosie says they're like the tarot deck,' explained Carol, peering over his shoulder; she'd never actually seen the cards before. 'Dynnod's Welsh for 'images,' he says. They're supposed to correspond to the twenty-two whatever-you-call-ems – picture cards.'
'The Greater Arcana,' said Sarr.
They all looked at him. 'You know what these are, honey?' asked Deborah.
'I know the tarot, yes. But not these.' He eyed them dubiously. The card on top bore a round yellow face and the words The Sun. 'Or at least, I'm not sure. I'd have to look them up.'
'Sarr has read more weird old books than any twelve people,' said Deborah, seating herself beside him. 'He knows almost as much as his mother.'
He shook his head.
'I'll bet you do, honey,' she said. 'It's just that she gets it all without reading.'
'I've never heard of this sort of thing,' said Freirs, who had been studying the box. 'It doesn't say 'Welsh' on the label. It just says 'Made in U.S.A. Crystal Novelty Co., Cranston, R.I.,' and 'Instructions included.' But there don't seem to be any instructions.' He showed them the empty box.
'God, how annoying!' said Carol. 'Isn't there anything printed on the back?'
He turned it over. 'Nope. Nothing except 'For entertainment purposes only.' ' Looking to the deck, he slid the top card off; the one below it showed a crescent moon. 'I guess they mean it's not supposed to be used for gambling.'
'Well, of course not,' said Carol. 'It's for fortune-telling. Isn't that right, Sarr?'
He shrugged. 'Maybe. What did your friend say?'
'You mean Rosie? He didn't say. But isn't that what a tarot deck's for?' She sat down and reached for the moon card. The pale crescent shape was faceless against the purple sky. Between the two horns gleamed a star.
'A tarot has seventy-eight cards, though,' Sarr said guardedly. 'This only has – did you say twenty-two?'
'Let's see,' said Freirs. One by one he began going through the deck, counting each card as he came to it while Carol, beside him, read the title at the bottom.
'The Sun.'
The face, she decided, was mysterious and cruel – anything but sunny.
'The Moon.'
'Look,' said Deborah, 'look where that star is. Isn't that impossible?'
'There's something like that in the Ancient Mariner,' said Freirs, with a whispered two to himself. 'At one point he looks up and that's what he sees.'
'But it isn't natural.'
'It's not supposed to be natural.'
'The Book.'
'Gee, it looks just like this one,' said Deborah, pointing to The House of Souls. The book in the picture was fat and mustard-colored. It bore no visible title.
'The Bird.'
A graceful white shape with a splash of red at its breast.
'The Watchers.'
'It's just a group of pussycats,' said Deborah.
Carol studied it a moment. 'Hmmm, you're right. I wonder why they give it that title.'
Freirs revealed the next card. 'The Moth.'
It looked more like two green leaves stuck together, Carol decided. She was still disappointed by the oddness of Rosie's present – which, in a way, had become her present. The illustrations weren't very pretty, just rather lurid lithographs; and what was the point, anyway, seeing as they'd forgotten to include the instructions?
'The Wand.'
Black as ebony, and shiny-looking.
'Odd,' said Freirs. 'It seems to have holes along the side.'
'The… Dhol.'
'The what?' Deborah craned forward to see; Sarr squinted at it suspiciously. The thing on the card was dirty black and had four legs; beyond that it looked ragged and half-formed, a papier-mache mouse.
'It must be a misprint,' said Carol. 'For mole, maybe. Or vole.'
'Honey, maybe you can look it up later.'
'The Serpent.'
A pale, snakelike thing. Funny, thought Carol; she'd have expected a typical red Welsh dragon.
'The Mound… The Lovers.'
A man and woman, smiling.
'The Eye.'
A single staring eye amid the branches of a tree.
'The Rose.'
It was hard to say why the picture was so disturbing, thought Carol. Perhaps it was the inner row of spiky petals that looked so much like teeth.
'The Marriage.'
Odd, the thing standing beside the woman looked like the molelike creature from the earlier card.
'The Pool.'
Greenery all around…
'The Tree.'
'It's the same picture we saw before,' said Deborah. 'It's 'The Eye.' '
'You're right,' said Carol, more disappointed than ever. 'It must be another misprint.' The deck was unusual, all right, but obviously rather cheap.
Freirs slid up another card.
'Hmm,' said Carol, 'this one doesn't even have a tide.'
The card bore a simple design of three concentric rings slashed by a vertical red line.
'Maybe it's like the Joker,' said Freirs. He turned another card.
'Spring.'
The card showed a landscape, but done entirely in white.
'This is weird,' said Carol. 'White's supposed to be for winter.'
'Summer.'
A landscape all in green.
'Fall.'
All in red.
'Ah, here it is. Winter.'
The land was black, like the aftermath of a fire.
'Here's the last one,' said Freirs. 'Twenty-two.'
'The Egg.' Carol made a face. 'Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?'
The picture was of a globe of the earth, the familiar continents clearly visible.
'Well,' said Freirs, as if trying to inject a note of heartiness, ‘your friend Rosie comes up with some pretty unusual presents. I'll have to write him a nice thank-you.' He tapped the edges of the cards against the table, lining
