Eyes of the Tarot

by Bruce Coville

  Waving a flaming blade above his head, the knight raced along the beach, out of the storm and the pounding rain into the circle of charmed calm Magistimes had created around them.

  The swords hissed back into the sand to make way for their master. He was heading straight for Alan and Randy and with sudden, sickening certainty Bonnie knew that when he reached them it would take only a single sweep of that blade and two heads would be rolling along the beach. Her stomach lurched. “Alan! Randy! Run!”

  But of course Alan couldn’t run.

  Ignoring the knight, he continued to crawl toward her.

  The Magician turned. “Give me the cards!”

  “Never!” she cried. Ignoring his eyes, she looked past him toward Alan. The Knight was only a few yards from him now.

  Turning to the sea, she flung the cards away from her, throwing them as hard and as far as she could.

  The deck flew apart in midair.

  The cards scattered across the surface of the water.

  Magistimes’ cry was like that of a soul being dragged to damnation. “You little fool! You don’t know what you’ve done!”

  But she did know. When she looked back she saw the galloping horse stumble and fall, and the Knight of Swords vanish in the sand.

  She began to laugh. “You’ve haunted the McBurnies long enough, Magistimes. We’re done with you at last!”

  The magician’s eyes were blazing. But behind the fire was a cold fear, and Bonnie could see it.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the last thing, the grisly relic that had rested with the cards in the attic; the bone that had been cut from the hand of the magician some five hundred years before.

  She knew its purpose now, the reason his servant had taken it from his body. It was a touchpoint, the focus around which he would re-materialize once he became strong enough.

  Without it, he could never truly return to this world.

  “This is the end of you!” she cried, holding the bone between her thumb and forefinger, raising it high so that he could see it.

  “What are you doing?” he screamed.

  “This!” she cried, as she turned and flung the bone into the sea.

  It was swallowed at once by the waves.

  A terrible howl rose behind her, an aching scream of loss and anguish. But she didn’t turn back, for what had begun to happen in front of her was too strangely wonderful for her to tear her eyes from it.

  The powers of the tarot were breaking free.

  The Fool came first, dancing over the waves with merriment written across his face. A little dog bounced playfully at his heels.

  Suddenly the Fool turned to her and bowed.

  The scent of roses overwhelmed her.

  “Thank you!” he cried joyously. “From all of us!”

  The Fool danced on. As he did the others appeared behind him, all the men and women, the dreams and ideas, that she had seen on the cups and swords and wands and pentacles. They were following the Fool, freed at last, after more than five hundred years of being trapped in the deck of Magistimes.

  Bonnie exulted that they were free, and felt strong for having freed them.

  Then she caught her breath. A great wheel was rising from the heaving water, turning, turning, turning as it came. It was the Wheel of Fortune and around it moved the figures of the Major Arcana—the Hermit, the Heirophant, the Sun, the Moon, the Star. Even Death was there, misunderstood Death, grim and austere, riding his white charger. Giving it the spur, he sped away across the sea on a line that went out and on and then up, until he vanished among the stars.

  Bonnie wondered, for a moment, what had happened to the Priestess. Then she caught her breath in wonder, for now the Priestess was rising from the sea also. And Bonnie knew then that the answer had indeed been in the sea and that she had been right to fear death by sea, for she saw that the Priestess was in command of life and death, and of love and joy as well.

  The Priestess was looking at Bonnie. “You did well,” she whispered. Her sea blue eyes, vast and wonderful, held Bonnie’s for a moment. Then, like the others, she was gone.

  And the sea was calm.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Bonnie walked along the breakwater to where Alan and Randy were waiting. The wind, no more than a gentle zephyr, whispered around her.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said. “You saved my life.”

  Randy gazed at her with awe. “Remind me to stop bugging you. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  She laughed, an easy laugh, open and free. “What are you two doing here, anyway?”

  “Randy came and got me,” said Alan.

  She looked at her brother with surprise.

  He shrugged. “It was the same thing as with the dune buggy accident. I just knew something was wrong.” He smiled. “I wish you’d stay out of trouble so I can get some rest. You woke me up out of a sound sleep this time!”

  “It runs in the family,” she said. “The power, I mean.”

  “Yeah. Well, anyway I sat up in the middle of the night and thought, ‘Boy, have we got trouble now!’ Then I heard you rummaging around, so I got up and followed you. When you took the road past Alan’s, I decided to see if I could get him. Not that I was afraid or anything—”

  Alan burst out laughing. “No, neither of us was afraid,” he said. “Not much! You should have seen him. I was sitting in my room, brooding about you and the cards and this leg, and all of a sudden I heard this tapping at my window. I almost went out of my skin. I thought it was Magistimes, coming to get me. Or maybe Death again.”

  Bonnie saw a flash of that haunted look in his eyes and knew that for Alan this would never really be over, even now that the cards were destroyed.

  “When I saw Randy’s face pressed against the window,” continued Alan, “I didn’t know whether to scream or laugh. The rain was coming down like mad and there was Randy, dripping wet and gesturing like crazy for me to let him in.”

  “It took him forever,” complained Randy. “He claims he thought I might be a trick sent by that card guy, but I thought I might drown before he made up his mind whether to let me in or not.”

  Alan laughed. “I decided no one as powerful as Magistimes would disguise himself as someone this doofy,” he said, giving Randy a playful poke in the ribs. “Anyway, when I let him in he told me something was going on with you and that you were heading for the ocean. I think he figured you were going to jump in. He wanted me to come and talk you out of it.”

  “Well I’m glad you did,” said Bonnie. “I had no intention of jumping in. But if it hadn’t been for you two I would have given in. He almost had me.”

  “Who was he, anyway?” asked Randy with a shiver.

  “An old enemy of the McBurnies,” said Bonnie. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you the whole thing when we have a little more time. Right now we have to go see if Madame LePanto is all right. I have a feeling she’s back.”

  “Good idea,” said Alan.

  Bonnie turned back to the water. The sea was calm now, the tempest over. Across the gentle waves she could see the beginning edge of the sun, ready to break into the sky.

  Then she saw something floating near the shore.

  It was a card.

  She stepped off the breakwater and waded in to get it, already so wet it made no difference if she went in fully clothed.

  “What is it?” asked Alan as she headed back toward shore.

  “A sign,” she said, smiling.

  She dropped the card into his lap.

  He picked it up and smiled. “Now this is more like it.”

  “Oh, yuk,” said Randy, looking over his shoulder.

  “Quiet, twerp,” said Bonnie, coming to stand beside her brother. She put her hands on Alan’s shoulders, leaned to his ear and whispered, “That’s my favorite card.”

  “Mine too,” he replied.

  It was number VI.

  The Lovers.

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  Bruce Coville, Eyes of the Tarot