“Good thing they’re back.” A wicked light entered Theo’s eyes. “The gallery does have my favorite table in the house.”
She laughed as her hands trailed under his shirt and up his back, delighting as he shivered at her touch. “I happen to be partial to that table too.”
“Semele.” The way he said her name undid her.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. They made love, holding hands, their bodies like two flames wrapping around each other. Together they were The Lovers, two halves made one, personified in the cards and in the stars forever.
Queen of Cups
Theo had left the manuscript’s missing pages on the table in the den for her to read when she was ready.
She sat down and stared at the parchment. How was it possible to feel so much joy and sadness at the same time? Here was the last of the manuscript, the only remaining imprint of Ionna left in the world. Semele only had these few parchment leaves and one card, but at least she had something.
She picked up the surviving card—The World. There was a miniature painting of a naked woman dancing in the center of the world holding a wand in each hand. She traced her fingers over the paint; the Syrian artist whom Ariston had commissioned was a master.
She wiped the wetness from her cheeks and leaned forward to read the last of the manuscript. Her name was written across the top of the parchment in beautiful flowing script:
Semele
I can feel your eyes upon me as I write these last pages.
In the final days of my life, I am happy knowing these words have become our shared dream, tunneling us through the past and future so that we might meet in the middle.
Do not mourn the loss of the cards or my words. All things must return to the chasm. It is the symbols that will carry our stories, for they are the infinite doorways that can hold lifetimes.
Wadjet tasked me with teaching you. That was the riddle I had to solve. She is both of our grandmothers, and these pages are the leaves of our family tree.
The key I found in my mother’s jewelry box was meant for me, passed down by ancestors who came before me. It is a key I will take to my grave. All the doors have been unlocked, and now your journey begins as mine is ending.
I will die giving birth to my daughter in a few weeks’ time. I have seen her life go on without me, as I have seen my descendents walk their path to you. Ariston cried like a child when I told him, but he had to be prepared. I convinced him to abide by my wishes after I’m gone. He too had read the Oracle’s scroll and knew what she had asked of me.
When I die Ariston will commission the best artist in Syria to replicate the cards using paint created with my blood. With so many years between you and me, and time waging its war to keep us apart, the truth of my body will be the only way to ensure you recognize who you are.
Now that you have accessed your power, you will need to learn to make sense of your abilities, or the visions will become as fleeting as the dreams we have in sleep. Always remember the answers come not from the rock, the teacup, the shell, or the cards. The answers come from you.
You may not believe me now, but you will become a greater seer than me. You will see farther into the future than I ever could. When the day comes, you will decide what words to leave behind. You will find your reader and you will love her as I do.
I have seen nature in its vast expanse. I have seen civilizations crumble, heard the reverberations of history as time folded and unfolded again. I have seen shooting stars rain down from heaven, watched war and destruction blacken the earth, and I have seen love revive us. I have peered through time and past its many veils to find you.
One of my cards, The World, was left behind for a reason. It is the symbol of the soul becoming conscious of the divine. Now let the world embrace you.
Author’s Thanks
This story could not have been told without a childhood adventure that I must thank my parents for letting me take—a seventh grade summer school trip to France with my French teacher (and her tarot cards). Thank you, Mom and Dad, for letting me go, and to Mme Hobson, wherever you may be! Also loving thanks to Emma Ferguson for years later trying to show a very inquisitive teenage me how to read tarot.
If cards were to represent people, then my agent, Brianne Johnson, at Writers House would be The High Priestess. Bri, thank you for your passion for this story from the get-go, for your insights and for steering the ship yet again. My editor at Picador, Elizabeth Bruce, would have to be The Magician. Elizabeth, thank you for taking on this story and being such a vital partner in the creative journey—how I have loved working at your table again.
My deepest gratitude to Stephen Morrison and the talented people behind the curtain at Picador: managing editor Kolt Beringer; production team Lauren Hougen and Vincent Stanley; copyeditors Kate Davis and NaNá Stoelzle; VP of Marketing and Sales Darin Keesler; and Shannon Donnelly and Molly Fessenden in marketing; executive director of Publicity James Meader and my publicist, Isabella Alimonti; Devon Mazzone and Amber Hoover for handling subsidiary rights, assisted by Naoise McGee; interior designer Jonathan Bennett; and LeeAnn Falciani for designing the book’s cover.
A very special thanks to Laura Chasen for her line edit; tarot consultant Bakara Wintner for providing invaluable insight for the story and the cards; my sister, Alexandria, and my brother Bart and his wife, Kelsi, for the brainstorming session before I began writing; and many thanks to Simon Goltsman, Julia Burke, Farah Bullara, Monika Telszewska, Sue Ebrahim, Charlotte Schillaci, Robin Wilson, Bruce Brenner, Paul O’Brien, and Nadine Nettman for the research assistance and encouragement along the way.
I read numerous nonfiction works in my research and I’d like to give a special mention to Dean Radin’s book Entangled Minds and Michael Dummett and Ronald Decker’s two books, A Wicked Pack of Cards: Origins of the Occult Tarot (with Thierry Depaulis) and A History of the Occult Tarot. They were an invaluable resource, as well as tarot scholar Mary K. Greer’s website. For a full list of the selected bibliography, please visit my Web site. (Any factual errors found within these pages are my own.)