The High Priestess (The Tarot Club 3)

The words from my last encounter with one of my father's associates still stung.

Her coolness soothed me, centered me, reminded me that this was where I belonged.

"I won't part from you - never for long periods that can be avoided, and you will look after them just as you have looked after me." I spoke the words, imagining the woman I would become, the family I would have, and finally I added the four words that Charlain had taught me, feeling frivolous and bold. "So mote it be."

The water surged and danced around me, my feet growing numb, showing only a tinge of blue, but she knew better - had looked out for my well being for as long as I could remember, and when she pushed my feet up, away from her and out the water entirely, I didn't fight it for I knew that she was right.

The memory faded, turning into something sharper - something more sinister, for there on the riverbank - my riverbank, stood Solomon, his white robes grazing the muddy banks of the earth, his green eyes catching mine. But suddenly I was no longer that thirteen year old child, I was Marie des Montagnes, travelled Witch of the world and the High Priestess of The Tarot Club.

"Solomon." I allowed my voice to travel across the river, refusing to cower from the old King. If he was here, encroaching my memory dream, then I would challenge him head on.

“You took on a debt.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He had the level of self-importance I would have expected to come with being a King, entitled in the way that power seemed to mold people.

“There was no time limit discussed nor agreed upon.” My voice carried towards him and once more his green gaze hardened as he raised his chin in defiance.

“Don’t defy me little girl, the other Witch understood the terms well enough and you took on her debt, knowing or unknowing.

“Careful King, I could tell just one person your tale and still fulfill the deal. Don’t test me.”

His gaze blazed into mine, filled with violence and anger that had the ability to cripple cities. Here stood a man who was used to being obeyed - used to being bowed to, and I was no servant, certainly not to the Old King.

“The agreement lay in the intention - in your Witch needing my particular set of skills, agreeing to my terms. I needn’t remind you that this was a Magickal agreement, and should you and your Club not uphold your end of the agreement, the repercussions are governed by energy itself. Such an imbalance can cause a multitude of reactions.”

I held his gaze, refusing to give away the fact that I knew little about such agreements and bargains. Who bargained with an old King of long ago? A Demon summoner at that, who only seemed to appear in spirit form? Corinne. That was who. Corinne who had more Magick than she had sense. I loved her like my own. She was family in all the ways that mattered, but because she did not come from a home that practiced magick - that lived and breathed it, teaching bargaining along with one’s ability to cook a decent breakfast, she tended to dive into Magick either with a head-first approach, or the type of hesitancy that could get one killed.

“Enlighten me then King,” I threw sarcasm behind each word spoken and watched the spirit’s ire rise by the second. “When would you like your story told? Should I gather a fire and share your tale with my people?”

“Your Empress understood that the tale was to be spread - not to one person, but to many.” He glowered and in that moment he looked decidedly less Kingly, in fact he simply looked like a man governed by his arrogance.

“No King, you assume she understood.”

His gaze did not waver and I refused to fidget before him - refused to show him even a hint of uncertainty, pushing forward in my need to not be called out. “What will you do once everyone knows your tale? Once they know that you were bested by a Witch who you hound to yourself through marriage?”

“I am under no obligation to share my plans with the likes of you.” He spoke through clenched teeth, hissing the words in anger, and that anger told me more than anything else did. He needed this bargain to be completed, had placed an arbitrary time line upon it because of plans he was busy putting in motion. Was he working alone? With others? Was he a threat to the Club? I didn’t know.

“Humor me.” I grinned, flashing him an innocent smile.

The King twitched, and for a moment I wondered if he would cave - if a simple smile from a pretty girl was enough to get him to confide, unknowingly, in me. But Solomon stood straight, glaring at me as if he finally saw me for the opponent I was.

“I do not humor those who associate with the likes of Demons.”

It may not be the answer I sought, but it was answer enough.

“Says the man who was devoured by them. Wasn’t that the way you died? Such a shame really.”

If we weren’t in the dream-realm, I may have been worried that the King would lunge at me from across the mirror, wrap his large hands around my throat as he choked the air from my lungs. His gaze told me that that was exactly what he wanted to do. But decorum dictated otherwise, for he could not very well kill the Witch he needed, not when I was the one who had inherited Corinne’s debt.

“I can still stand tall, comfortable in the knowledge that I didn’t cross such boundaries with the Demon’s that I summoned. I controlled them - governed them in a way that had them doing my bidding. And you? What do you get from your Demon? You are simply a play thing. You didn’t just lose the power struggle between those with Magick in their veins and those that are born from darkness, you handed him control, willingly giving up your power.”

His words struck that hollow part in me - the one that felt guilt and disgust at the way I gave myself to Cortland over and over again - the part that whispered that I was no better than those humans who found themselves enthralled with a succubus, addicted to the pleasure they offered.

“I suppose you’re right.” I grinned back at him with the samearrogance he had greeted me with, pushing those feelings deep into my belly, where they would twist and turn, nauseating me until the end of time. Solomon seemed to raise his chin, inflating his chest once more, as if he had been simply waiting for me to concede to the fact that he was right - that such a declaration would have been made in a matter of time. It was that expression that urged me on - that brought me satisfaction. “He does devour me, only out of the two of us, I am the only one that has been devoured by a Demon and lived to tell the tale.”

His skin turned a mottled pink color as he understood the implication of my words. I couldn’t tell if he was horrified or disgusted, but it didn’t matter for soon enough I was flung back into the present.

I opened my eyes, greeted by my candle lit tent, the water now luke-warm as I moved in the tub, aware of my surroundings and the meeting I had just experienced. It seemed a phone-call to Charl was in order.