The Fortune Teller(91)

Oceans? A giggle welled up inside her. His mind could fly like Superman, and she could see the future and the past. Now weren’t they the perfect couple?

“It’s easier if I have a specific place—or person—I’m trying to connect with.” He looked away, as if he was divulging an embarrassing secret. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

She wondered if he had tried to “connect” with her at the chateau, and she realized that the day she had seen him meditating, he had actually been doing something else.

“When I was working in your father’s gallery, you were watching me, weren’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t watch you?” He kissed the tip of her nose playfully.

All that time she had thought he was indifferent to her, when the opposite had been true. “That’s how you knew the maid was in there?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. Semele began to get the full picture. “And do you normally sit on your bed shirtless?”

“Only when I know you’re snooping around my house.”

“I wasn’t snooping!” She swatted his chest. “I was coming up to the library to see the Orbis Sensualium Pictus. Is it really an original?”

His lips found hers again. “Come to Switzerland with me and find out.”

She kissed him back. “I could do that.”

“The gallery and the collection are yours.”

At first she didn’t think she had heard him right. “But the collection’s gone.”

“I canceled the auction after the theft. Fritz”—he said the name with relish—“had to ship everything back.”

She shook her head in amazement. “You were never planning to sell anything, were you?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. This entire time he’d been jeopardizing his collection just so she would read the manuscript.

“You realize you put priceless manuscripts at risk just by shipping them.” She didn’t know whether to throttle him or kiss him.

“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.