Eden’s blood literally went cold. She swore she could feel it momentarily stop moving in her veins.
“For crying outloud, Greta,” she said faintly.
“Calm your tits. It’s not what you think. It’s just the absolute end of the way of life. Transformation. Change. Something isn’t working for you anymore. It must end in total.”
“Oh, isthatall.”
“Life is a cycle, sweetheart. I’ve seen it all come through. Some things need to end completely in order for new and better things to begin. Your reading might be a little more circumspect if you chose the ten-card spread, but the three card gives you a sort of distilled answer.”
“It’s a kind of cut to the chase kind of spread is what you’re saying.”
“That’s exactly how I’d put it.”
Imagine that.
“Okay, choose your second card.”
Eden flipped over another card from the top of the deck.
“Hmm. The Hanged Man, reversed.” Greta tapped her chin thoughtfully with one finger.
“Deathandhanging? I’m amazed people didn’t run out of your tent screaming.” She was going for flippant, but her voice had gained a half octave and was a trifle squeaky.
“He’s hanging by his foot, not by a noose, silly. Look closely.” She pointed with a scarlet, flawlessly manicured nail that could probably easily slit an envelope or possibly a throat. “When he’s upright—turned in the other direction—he represents a sort of stasis... a willingness to give up temptation and instant gratification for a higher purpose. He puts his own personal needs aside. To wait for a long time for what he wants. He’s a martyr.”
Eden had never been less happy to hear her own decisions affirmed so succinctly.
“My goodness, look at your face. You look stricken! I wonder why.” Greta sounded a little gleeful, as if she knew precisely why. “Let’s find out. Let’s turn over your next card.”
She flipped it over. And there they were, a naked man and woman against the backdrop of some kind of radiant arch. All pulsing red and golds. It said THE LOVERS across the top, as if that wasn’t already perfectly obvious.
“The Lovers. Well, well, well. Well, well, well, well,well.”
Greta sat back and beamed at the spread, and then at Eden.
Eden was irritated that that tarot deck appeared to be patting down her soul like a cop and emerging with her secrets as though they were switchblades tucked into her boot. “What doesthatmean? A hideous death by guillotine?”
“It means exactly what it looks like. Red hot love, baby. This is the outcome.”
Heat raced across the surface of her skin. Joining the anger and irritation in the panoply of things she was feeling.
“See, this is the thing. When the Hanged Man isreversed, it actually means you need to look at your situation from a completely different perspective. That maybe something in your outlook needs to change. And see all these vines and leaves around the hanging fella? That’s about abundance. It means whatever situation you’re asking about will be fruitful andlusciouswhen you give up the impulse to martyr yourself. When you give up your fear of change.”
Eden stared at her almost accusingly.
For a long time.
Greta just gave her a sympathetic smile. Nothing she wasn’t used to, clearly.
“So if I were to sum this up... if you want this red hot love...” Greta tapped a nail to the card. “...a certain way of being and thinking has to end for you.”
Eden sat for a moment and let that conclusion simmer for a moment.
“And then what?” She heard the words all but creak out of her mouth against her will.
“Well, let’s see...” Greta laughed softly and peeled up the corner on another card. Eden glimpsed what looked like a black tower, with a sky full of lightning and plummeting bodies, which probably meant she’d adopt a cuddly kitten. But Greta slapped it back down again. “Oops, I’ve got a paying customer. See you in the hood, Eden.”
Someone’s shy little face was indeed peeping into the tent.