‘Now you,’ he said to her, passing over the cards.
She followed his example and handed them back. Some of the other guests moved closer, anxious to see what was happening.
A large breasted girl with straw-coloured hair giggled.
Mathias shot her a withering glance, his eyes homing in on her like radar-guided rapiers. The colour drained from her face and she clutched the arm of the man she was with, as if seeking protection from those piercing orbs.
Satisfied that he would not be forced to endure any further interruptions, Mathias proceeded to divide the cards into ten packs of seven. This done, he held the first pack, face down, before him.
‘Pack one,’ he said, his voice low and resonant in the silent room. ‘That which is divine.’ He laid it on the table.
‘Pack two. Fatherhood.’ That too he placed on the table, above and to the right of the first. ‘Three. Motherhood.’
Blake and the others watched as he laid that one above the first pack, this time to the left.
‘Four. Compassion. Five. Strength. Six. Sacrifice.’
Blake felt a slight tingle run up his spine and wondered if he were the only one.
‘Seven. Love,’ Mathias continued. ‘Eight. The Arts. Nine. Health.’
Toni Landers shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
‘Ten. Worldly matters.’ Mathias sat back slightly. ‘The Tree is complete,’ he announced.
‘Tree?’ said someone behind him.
‘The Tree of the Cabala,’ Mathias answered without taking his eyes from the cards. He reached for the first pack and turned the card, repeating the process until all ten showed their faces.
Blake watched with interest; he had seen numerous Tarot readings over the years, ail symbols usually carrying variant interpretations. He wondered how
Mathias would read them? The psychic held one up.
‘Number eight,’ he said. ‘A decision.’
Toni Landers kept her eyes on the cards, hands clasped on her knees.
The psychic reached for another card.
‘Number seven. Travel.’
Blake noticed that Mathias’ hand was shaking slightly as he reached for the next card. The older man swallowed hard and flipped it over for all to see.
‘Sixteen. Change.’
‘What kind of change?’ Toni wanted to know.
Mathias fixed her in those powerful blue twin-points and shook his head almost imperceptibly.
‘I don’t know yet,’ he said, turning over another card. It was a card of the Minor Arcana. The dagger.
There were eight cards lying away from the cabbalistic pattern made up by the remainder of the pack. Mathias chose one of these but he hesitated before he turned it over, his hand shaking more violently now.
‘What’s wrong?’ Toni asked, her voice full of concern. ‘What can you see? Tell me what you see.’
Blake, like most other people in the room was watching the psychic’s quivering hand. He felt the chill begin to wrap itself around him more tightly, as if someone had clamped him in a freezing vice and was slowly turning the screw.
On the mantelpiece, the photograph of Rick Landers began to shudder, as if biown by some invisible breeze. ‘Turn it over,’ said Toni Landers, exasperatedly. Her breath was coming in short gasps now. ‘I want to see the card. Tell me what you can see.’
The picture of Rick continued to vibrate, its movement unnoticed by ail except the girl with the straw- coloured hair. She could not speak, all she could do was raise one finger in the direction of the photo.
‘Jesus Christ,’ said the man beside her, noticing the movement.
Mathias turned over the final card.
‘Danger,’ he said, breathlessly.
‘What kind of danger?’ Toni demanded, staring down at the card. ‘Tell me.’
‘Your son …’ Mathias began, falteringly.
There was a loud crash as the glass in the photo frame exploded outward as if there were a charge behind it. Slivers of crystal showered the guests nearby and Blake found himself stepping back to avoid the cascade.
A girl near him screamed.
The photo toppled from the mantelpiece and clattered to the ground. Toni Landers tore her gaze from the Tarot cards and saw the remains of the picture lying close by.
As she reached out to pick it up something red and shiny appeared on the photo, welling up from a cut in the paper.
It was blood.
Toni froze, watching as more of the crimson fluid dribbled over the slashed picture.
Blake looked on, mesmerised by the incident.
It was Mathias who finally snatched up the frame and its contents. He laid it gently on the table before him.
There was no more blood. The photo was unmarked.
Blake glanced at the psychic and then at the pieces of broken glass which littered the carpet beneath the mantelpiece.
‘What happened?’ Toni Landers wanted to know. ‘What does this mean?’
Mathias hesitated.
is something going to happen to my son?’ Toni asked. ‘Jonathan, tell me, please.’
He nodded.
is he going to die?’ she demanded.
i saw danger, I didn’t say he was going to die,’ the psychic said in an effort at consolation but it didn’t work.
Toni cradled the picture frame in her hands and stared down at the face of her
son. Tears formed at her eye corners but she fought them back.
Tm not leaving him,’ she said. ‘Not now.’
Mathias swallowed hard then looked up to see that Blake was watching him. The writer seemed relatively unmoved by what had happened. The other guests slowly began to disperse, their conversation now kept to a discreet whisper. The psychic got to his feet and put a hand on Toni Landers’ shoulder.
‘Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn’t done the reading,’ he said.
‘No,’ she whispered, shaking her head. ‘I’m pleased you did. Thank you.’
‘Will you be all right?’ Blake asked her.
Another woman joined them, slightly older than Toni. She smelt of expensive perfume. The woman crouched beside her and gripped her hand. Blake and Mathias wandered across the room towards the open French windows, leading out into the garden. A cool breeze had sprung up and it washed over the two men as they walked out on to the patio.
‘What did you see?’ asked Blake, when they were out of earshot of the other guests.
‘You know how to read Tarot cards, David,’ said Mathias. ‘You saw what I saw.’
‘You know what I mean,’ the Englishman challenged.
‘Her son is going to die,’ said Mathias, flatly. ‘Is that what you wanted to hear?’ He walked across the lawn towards a large ornamental fish pond which lay beneath the drooping arms of a willow. Leaves had fallen from the branches and were floating on the surface of the water. The liquid gleam caught the bright lights of the house in the background.
‘You didn’t read that in the cards did you?’ said Blake, not sure whether it was intended as a question or a statement.
‘No.’
‘Then how did you know the boy was going to die?’
‘You want to know all the secrets, David.’
‘Yes I do.’
