“This doesn’t make sense.” The way the magic spoke, it was as if I had two fragments of different readings going on. I’d asked the cards for help with my love life, but the energy from the Tower couldn’t be any less chaotic.
Silently I swept the cards back into the deck, shuffling once more and laying them out in front of me face down.
A general reading, then I’d draw one card to see where that had me for today.
I flipped the card that stood out to me, pulling it down with a scowl.
The fucking Tower.
Reversed, I might have understood. That would have signaled personal growth for me, or aversion to change. But as it was, the lightning-struck tower on the black field stayed straight up, the birds falling to the ground glimmering faintly at me.
Almost absently I shuffled again, casting my mind around for something else; something to focus on.
The door. The world around me.
I drew a card.
The Tower.
“It’s creepy when you do that,” Aveline admitted. “Do you ever have your personal readings line up like this?”
“No,” I said slowly. “Not if I’m searching for different answers.”
Chaos was hardly an answer, after all.
“Can I try?”
I nodded, reshuffled, and spread the cards for Aveline.
When she slid a card to her, I half-expected it to be the Tower as well and my heart clenched.
But it wasn’t.
The Nine of Cups shimmered up at her and I sighed. That was easy.
“You will be content with your day,” I groused. “Congratulations. I bet that is really shocking for you and I hope you’ll be able to make the most from your reading.”
She smirked. “You’re just jealous because I’m uncomplicated.”
“Oh extremely.” I still had no answers on the three men from last night.
An idea struck me and I reshuffled, tapping the cards a bit more voraciously than necessary.
In my mind, I focused on the faces of Cian, blonde and red eyed with just the right amount of ruggedness; Indra, dark skinned and sweet; and Akiva, green eyed and oh so arrogant.
Without looking at my cards, I drew three unerringly and flipped them over in front of me.
Aveline was silent.
The Wheel of Fortune, reversed, sat at my left elbow.
The Lovers was upright in front of me.
Death sat at my right hand.
Death was not nearly so dramatic a card, on its own. It meant many things.
But I couldn’t see the other things.
Darkness seemed to swell around my cards and the way their magic interacted clashed and fought.
Reading fortunes was easy for a summoner, but it seemed to me like I was looking at my cards through a wave of static.
“That’s not for you, right?” Aveline asked uncertainly.
“No. I don’t think so.” I reached down to touch the antlered deer skull on the Death card. “It’s for them.”
While I had chaos in my readings, from daily to relationships, the three of them had the worst luck I’d seen in a reading in awhile.
“Maybe they’re going to get the little ‘c’,” Aveline shrugged after a moment.
I looked at her, confused. “Little ‘c’? Is that like the big ‘C?’”
Her grin grew. “No. It’s chlamydia from them standing you up and probably humping each other for the rest of the night like preternatural bunnies.”
I couldn’t help it, I snorted. The snort turned to laughter and my dread broke as I lifted my hand and magically drew all the cards back into my palm, bound them, and slid them back into my thigh bag.
“You’re so mean,” I told her finally, finishing off my drink.
“But also probably right. The cards are rarely as doom and gloom as mortals want to believe, you know?” she pointed out tactfully.
“For sure.” She was right, for the most part. I’d only read a few dark fortunes in my life, and things that looked dark normally turned out to be a mere hiccup in someone’s fortune.
Chaos, for me, was very likely to mean I might get lost in the French Quarter, should I stray so far.
“What are we having for lunch?” I wasn’t going to let these cards put me in an even worse mood. “Because your little miracle hangover cure has me starving.”
Chapter 8
While we were no longer hungover, we still took the next few hours of opportunity to do nothing.
I was moping, predictably, and had no qualms with her suggestion of Xbox and snacks.
Aveline offered me a controller, citing how cathartic it would feel to subvert the patriarchy by pissing off a few twelve-year-old future gamers, but I had declined. Normally, I would’ve accepted the invitation with relish, but not today.
“I’m pouting,” I said for the sixth time. “I can’t game with you when I’m in such emotional distress.”
“They’re not worth the distress,” Aveline argued, standing and powering off the television and Xbox both. “Nor this level of pouting. Save it for someone who’s worth it. Goddess’s tits, George. Go meet someone who’s worth it.”
“I’m going to go exploring,” I shrugged. “It’s almost like meeting someone, just without the actual meeting.”
“Whatever.” She went towards her room and I followed her down the hallway, seeing her duck into her ‘home gym.’
“Do people ever ask you about this?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. The room wasn’t a normal gym. An exercise ball sat in the corner, unused, while two metal poles gleamed at one side of the room, a hoop hung on the other.
Aveline had assured me that these were necessary; that an acrobatic burlesque dancer was very in demand and she’d used both in her dances.
As if to make a point, Aveline lunged onto one of the poles dramatically, tossing her hair as she spun once around the metal and stared at me from narrowed eyes.
“You’re the only one asking me about it.” She walked past me, smiling, and went to her room. “And you’re welcome to use the stripper poles. Wait for me on the hoop in case you fall–“
“I’m not struggling my way up to a hula hoop,” I informed her dryly. “Just so you can watch
