Tarot's Kiss (Tarot Chronicles)

by Nichole Blackfinch

  I inhaled deeply, reveling in the smell of the lilies, and something caught my eye. A cardboard box, addressed to me, was near the vase on the desk. Peering over to investigate, I saw a note from Mrs. Nguyen was stuck to the box; it said the box had arrived while I was away and she had brought it in for me. I checked the return address and saw that the package been sent from California. Weird.

  I reached in the top desk drawer for my grandma’s silver letter opener. Gripping it by the jeweled elephant on its handle, I slid it across the length of the box, cutting away the tape.

  Inside the box, buffeted by crumpled wads of packing paper, was a smaller box. The box was red tin, with a vintage-looking picture of a woman seated at an old-fashioned sewing machine. The picture was topped by a scrolling gold logo that read “Hannaker Scissor Co.” but the box was far too light to contain scissors. An envelope was taped to the tin.

  Cautiously, I ripped the envelope from the tin, dislodging small flakes of paint. I opened the envelope and pulled out two thick sheets of stationery covered in small loops of cursive handwriting.

  Dear Lucy,

  First, I’ll apologize. I should have had a better welcome for the granddaughter of my only sister. All I can say to excuse my rudeness is that I was startled to receive such a visit.

  Though I’ve not heard from my sister in forty years, it still pained me deeply to hear of her passing. I loved her so. She was my other half. I have never felt like a full person since she left me. I tell you this because I want you to know it was never my choice to not see Ellie again. I told you that Ellie and I had an argument and never spoke again. This wasn’t the truth, but it was what Ellie had asked me to say.

  You see, the last time I spoke to Ellie, she was in trouble. I don’t know what kind of trouble and she wouldn’t tell me. I remember that I asked her if she needed money and she laughed, saying that was the one thing she didn’t have to worry about. Her voice sounded sad and bitter, so much different from the sweet clever sister I’d always known.

  She asked me to keep something for her that day. She didn’t know if she’d return for it or not. She told me to hide it carefully, outside the house, and never tell a soul. She said that someone might come looking for it one day, and that if they did, I was to lie to them. She also said that if someone came to look for it, it meant that they’d killed her. I cried and begged her to tell me more, but she said it was dangerous.

  I never saw her again after that day, and I didn’t tell Mother and Father about it. When she left, it ripped the heart from us all. I did as she asked, though, and hid this. All these years it’s been buried inside two boxes next to the old well at the back of our property. I don’t know why it is significant.

  I’ve broken the secret now because I felt it was time. I was so scared when you asked about the card, but nonetheless, I’ve realized that I don’t think that YOU are the person Ellie was afraid of when she told me to lie.

  I hope this helps you with whatever it is that you’re trying to do. Please call me. I do want to reunite the family and bring things full circle before my own time is over.

  With love,

  Emmaline Peck

  I placed the letter back on the desk, and picked up the red tin box. My heart pounded as I slowly pried the lid off the top. I stared in disbelief. It couldn’t be.

  My legs felt weak. I sank to the floor, box in hand. I pulled out the card in the box, fearful that it might disintegrate under my touch. It was her, The Empress, the center of my trouble.

  The card was about twice the size of a regular playing card and much thicker, its faded artwork depicting a pregnant woman on a throne, a harvest spilling at her feat, a half-smile on her face. “L’Imperatrice” was printed at the bottom. Of course, how silly not to think the card would be in French. The Empress.

  And that was it. Just a card, an old, worn card from a long-fragmented tarot deck. Oh you hateful Empress, I thought. I put the card back in the tin and replaced the lid. Those horrible days I’d just spent in Savannah, and the card had been sitting in my house all along, wrapped up on my desk.

  I curled my hand tighter and tighter around the tin. How could this happen? I hurled the tin at the wall and an angry sob rose up in me. The death, the grief, the loss. And at the root of it all was nothing more than a deck of cards, both paltry and horrible. Whatever answers this powerful deck could have provided couldn’t be worth the bloodshed it had caused. Nothing could be worth that.

  The floodgates broke and I cried like I’d never cried before. I cried for my grandma, for her young murdered husband and for the family she’d left behind. I cried for Angie and the future she’d never have. I cried for Gavin and for his father and for the fear I’d brought my mom. Lastly, I cried for myself, for everything I’d lost and for the shame of what my own pride, my own curiosity and my own carelessness had brought down upon my life. I wept until I couldn’t any longer, until I was a hollow, numb shell and only then did I cross the room to retrieve the box containing the Empress.

  I held the tin and my thoughts turned to destruction. Should I burn the card? Rip it to shreds? I wanted it wiped from existence. The closure would be weak, but needed, and this brittle old card would burn so quickly. And there was my plan: I would burn the card and scatter the ashes, and this would close the door on the past. I pulled the card from the box, intent on its ruin. All I needed was a lighter.

  There was a problem, though, and I stalled my hand. This wasn’t my closure alone. Gavin’s father was murdered, not for this card, but for another in the same deck. He’d chased the Empress, too, and he deserved a hand in the card’s demise. This destruction couldn’t belong to me alone. I would wait until Gavin could join me and we’d do it together.

  This card and then, I realized, perhaps more. With Gavin’s help, I could hunt the other cards. We would destroy the deck together, starting with this Empress. No one would ever again be corrupted by the temptation of whatever power or secrets the Oracle deck held. It would be our mission and our purpose, our gift back to the world that had both given and taken so much from each of us. But first, this end by fire, together with Gavin.

  I was smiling as I reached for my cell phone.