Sighing, I stared down at the cards, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The Tower faded in and out of focus, the image bleeding into The Empress and The High Priestess just the same. None of us would come out of this unscathed.
“I’m just here for the reading, nothing more,” Solomon sounded in my mind.
Solomon wanted to watch the reading play out, who knew - perhaps this was where he sought out his entertainment. Who was I to say what slivers of this world - of this life - were enough to tide someone over in the spirit realm?
I exhaled in defeat, choosing to ignore him as I continued to muddle my way through the message before me. The cards were a puzzle.
Okay, the Voodoo Priestess is higher up on the food chain than we initially thought. We were going to be pitted against each other, and a type of war is coming.
But war between her and I? My intuition tugged towards no. A war between Sergei and Arlo? My intuition dictated yes and no - not the war the cards seemed to be talking about. A war against the Tarot Club? My intuition pivoted to a resounding yes.
I needed to call Charl. Undoubtedly, Charl had done something to cause ripples within the Magickal community - something that we were all aware might one day occur. Our group had defied all odds. We practiced every kind of Magick imaginable, and yet, we still weren’t a coven. Charl had ensured that we were very much a business.
Unfortunately, people didn’t like the idea of straying from tradition. The very existence of The Tarot Club went against most Magickal beliefs, and so we were an island made up of a series of small moving parts. It was only a matter of time before we pissed someone off to this extent - but did it have to happen while I was contracted to Dimitri of all people?
I pressed the phone against my ear, the sound of the consistent ringing as I waited for Charl to pick up was somewhat soothing. I mulled over the information as I resigned myself to the fact that Charl was probably going to let this one go to voicemail, earlier he had been spiralling down into the madness that so often claimed him. Now, he may very well be swimming deep within the depths of it.
As predicted, his phone went to voicemail. I hung up before I could say anything, because really - how could I even begin to articulate everything I had just discovered in a two minute voice message?
My gaze flitted back to the cards. The High Priestess - the Voodoo Priestess’ feral grin taunted me, reminding me of a woman going to war, a strategist if there ever was one.
The Voodoo Priestess was also using Sergei, but for what purpose though? To get to us?
I wasn’t sure, because to assume that everything was about us - about The Tarot Club - was both arrogant and conceited.
“Thank you for your time.” Solomon's voice rumbled in my mind.
Startled by his presence, I may have jumped slightly, but once he had left, the entire room shifted, taking the shadows with it.
I sagged in relief, wondering how I was going to prevent him from simply arriving next time. Because I had no doubt that there would be a next time.
My phone began flashing and it took me a minute to understand what I was seeing before me. Charl was calling me back. If I answered, would I get coherent Charl who was a mad genius? Or would I simply be on the receiving end of madness - his madness?
I swallowed down my trepidation and answered.
He seemed more prissy than usual, but I told him what occurred anyway.
Yes - he would look into the Voodoo Priestess.
Yes -he would look into this so-called war.
And Yes -he had heard of Solomon, but only in the biblical sense.
Long after we hung up, I found myself Googling Solomon, Magick, and spirits in general. Sometimes Google offered up answers that even my connection with Magick couldn’t.
And what do you know?
Tales of Solomon being able to summon and control Demons filled the screen.
He was the revered King - the Demon Summoner.
And, he had been here, watching me read cards.