“Who was he?” I ask, stepping further into the room.
Sabine shakes her head and returns her attention to the cards on the table. “Youth is wasted on the young,” she declares before humming a tuneless song. She puts another card down, then another. “Use your instincts, girl. That’s what God gave them to you for.”
My instincts aren’t talking at the moment and why am I not afraid?
It doesn’t make any sense, and so I stare at the table.
The tarot cards are gold, glittering in the dying light from the window. The figures on the cards are drawn in rich colors, dark reds and blues and greens. They look so mystic, so powerful and forbidden. In spite of everything, I’m intrigued.
The card she’s holding is a knight, and he appears to be preparing to swallow a handful of swords. Sabine notices my gaze.
“The Four of Swords,” she tells me without looking up. “He signifies rest after a period of struggle or stress or pain.”
She lays another card down, half obscuring the Four of Swords. “This is the Six of Swords,” she explains, still not looking at me. “He symbolizes moving out of stormy waters into calmer ones. If someone has experienced hard times, this card means that things will very shortly be looking up for them, that harmony will soon be restored.”
“Who’s cards are you reading?” I ask her, trying not to sound too interested. “Your own?”
She shakes her head once. “Your brother’s.”
I suck in a breath. “Finn’s?”
She nods without answering, examining the array of cards in front of her.
“He’s dead. What’s the point?”
She ignores me, still examining the cards as if I hadn’t spoken.
I wait patiently, counting my breaths, until she finally looks up.
“Page of Cups. Water is your brother’s element. He’s got the vulnerability of a child, and he trusts like a child, as well. He’s good-hearted, thoughtful, kind. He’s also artistic and creative. He’s very intuitive, but criticism crushes him. He doesn’t have many friends, because he’s not understood well by others. Does this sound like him?”
Only completely.
I nod. “Yeah. A bit.” Sabine nods knowingly, and lays one last card down. She stares at it, then smiles.
“These are good,” she tells me, seemingly satisfied. “I like these cards for your brother.”
“But…he’s dead,” I tell her again, so so so confused. “He’s gone.”
“Lord, child,” Sabine exclaims, shaking her old head. “Haven’t we already discussed this? Energy is never really gone.”
“The energy here at Whitley scares me,” I tell her hesitantly. “It’s dark and there’s something here that I …”
Sabine looks up, her eyes thoughtful. “That you what?”
I look away. “I don’t know. I feel unnerved here. Unsettled.”
“You were right to come here,” she finally answers. “It was the only way.”
“The only way for what?”
I think I’m afraid to know the answer.
“You’ll have to answer that,” Sabine says sagely. “You’re the one who will know.”
I once again feel like I’ve been dropped in a rabbit hole, and I’m not sure who is the crazy one, Sabine or me.
Right now, though, my money is on Sabine.
“Sit,” she tells me. “I’m going to read your cards.”
“That’s not necessary,” I tell her, backing away. “Really.”
She stares at me wordlessly, until I finally sigh and sink to a seat in a chair in front of her. It might be a load of crap, but it won’t hurt anything.
Probably.
She shuffles the cards, then offers them to me. “Draw one.”
I do, and she splits the deck where I touched.
One by one, she methodically lays the cards out in a cross shape.
“The Three of Swords,” she murmurs. “It means you’re separated from someone you love.”
“My mom and Finn,” I nod. She clucks.
“Yes. But you’re separated from someone else you love, and it’s a self-imposed separation. You didn’t have to do it, but you did anyway. Curious.”