Split the Deck

Chapter 4

"So let me get this straight. Instead of trying to get out, you decided to play cards?!" Claire growled furiously. I rolled my eyes at her, tucking my cards back into their pouch and tucking them back into my jeans.

     "Let's forget about that. There's more pressing matters at hand. We need to get out of here, like now. Otherwise we're probably dead. So please, focus." I snapped back, standing up and inspecting the room.

     "We don't even know how to escape. What the hell are we supposed to do?" Marcia breathed out in frustration. My eyes locked onto the white walls, noticing the walls. They were new and by touching them I could tell that it was just drywall. I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief.

     "Drywall. Looks like our captor went through a lot of trouble to fix this place up," I glanced at them. Claire met my gaze with her knowing one. They would have immediately sprung into action had it not been for the door flinging open. I jumped at the sound, falling back on my cot. Dennis stood, looking angry as hell and glaring at me. I could hear him breathing from where I sat, his nostrils flaring. I swallowed thickly, clearing my throat and standing up abruptly as he crossed the room. His hands flipped the pillow violently, searching for the cards. I fixed my shirt over my jeans, covering any exposed part of the bag.

     "Where are they? Where are the cards?" He roared, making me flinch. I stared hard at him. There was no way that he was going to take my cards from me. I pressed my lips shut, keeping silent even as his hot hand gripped my arm with bruising force and led me from the room.
     I glanced back at Claire, giving her a final nod before the door was closed, severing our contact. Dennis sat me down harshly in a chair, standing over me. Our knees were touching, I could feel his warmth through the cloth of my jeans.

     "You shouldn't trick children, you know. That says a lot about you." Dennis said calmly, though I could feel the anger behind his words. The disappointment.

     "It wasn't a trick. Well, not fully anyway." I claimed, meeting his blue eyes behind those black rimmed glasses. I steeled myself against any emotion I normally would have felt. Dennis cocked his head at me, prompting me to elaborate. "I really can hear the cards. Or, the spirits within the cards. I'm not going to lie and say my original plan wasn't to trick Hedwig, but it changed. He asked me to read your cards and I gave him an honest reading."

     "My cards?" Dennis furrowed, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't believe me, and I didn't blame him. I needed to stall him, though, if those girls had any chance for escape. I sighed heavily, looking at my surroundings. There was a large rack with at least 20 different coats on it, plus a heather gray beanie. A desk with a computer monitor on it and a bunch of fashion drawings on the wall. My gaze paused after meeting his own.

     "Your fortune. I can demonstrate more for you, if you wish. But I'd really like to keep the cards afterwards?"

     "Demonstrate. I don't see the harm in letting you keep the cards but I will have to confiscate them until Patricia says otherwise."

     "Dennis, please. These are the only things I have left, they are the only things that have kept me alive. I can't lose them." I pleaded, feeling the all–too–familiar burn in my eyes. My voice cracked and I noticed Dennis stiffening at the mention of his name. His face contorted like he was waging an internal battle.

   "I said I will try. That's all I can do Miss…?"

     "Emma. My name is Emma." I nodded, better not to push my luck. I sniffled, leaning forward. My face only centimeters away from him, I appeared to be at belly–button height sitting down. He gasped softly, I barely noticed it as my hand hiked up my jumper with my thumb and pulled out the bag. I leaned back, holding the bag securely in my hand. "Got a table I can demonstrate on? We could do it in the floor if you want?"
     His face twisted in disgust. "That's disgusting." I smirked at him, noting the flash in his eyes. He sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his head before he held it out for me to grab. "I'll show you the kitchen."
     I nodded, taking his hand and standing up. I wasn't even close to his height, this man with already too many personalities in his head towered over me like a beanstalk. Yet, when he touched me I felt safe. Protected even. I followed without struggle, already forgetting my way back. I really should learn to pay attention more. It was hard to believe this man lived here, he looked like he belonged in a better home, but then again I couldn't imagine a minotaur traveling outside of its maze. We made it to the kitchen, the table had been wiped clean, of course. And I took a seat at the table, pulling my cards out nervously. He must have noticed, because he sat at the opposite end of me as if to appeal to my anxiety.

     "So how does this work?" He asked when I set the bag to the side. My gaze flashed up to him, the cards begging me to touch them.

     "The spirit in these cards is energetic but if you offer them freedom every now and then, the spirit settles. It shows me pictures of a spread, and it tells me how to split the deck and even how many times to shuffle," I explained, my fingers reaching for the cards.

     »He shuffles.« The deck's distorted whisper broke through my concentration, causing my freeze. I took in a deep breath and looked at him, sliding the cards over to him. He looked at me cautiously. I sighed heavily, standing up awkwardly and bent over the table, grabbing his hand and placing it on top of the deck. He tensed, preparing to jerk back his hand when his eyes widened and met mine. He must have felt it, the cool energy wrapping itself around his hand. I nodded understandingly.

     "It wants you to shuffle."

     "You feel this?" His Boston accent heavy with amazement, he smiled at her.

     "And so much more." I admitted. His gaze softened as he looked at me, trying to read me.

     "You are…different." He said, beginning to shuffle the deck. He seemed focused on the task set for him, I liked watching him concentrating like this. Truthfully, he didn't have a clue on how different I was opposed to normal people. Then again, I guess he isn't normal either.

     »Stop.« The cards spoke and I put my hands on his, meeting his icy stare again. I kept his gaze as I gently took the cards from him.

      "What type of deck is that?"

      "Witches Tarot. Isn't it beautiful? I saw them on a bookshelf in Book Quest when I was nine. I had to have it, and since I didn't have any money I managed to take just the deck of cards since that would have been the only time that I could get out for a while," I told him, leaving out a few details. He listened intently. "Since I couldn't swipe the guide book, the spirit had to teach me itself."

     "There's a guidebook for this type of thing?"

     I nodded. "Yep, there's a guidebook for most tarot decks."

     »Tree of life.« The spirit instructed, giving me a vision of a 12 card spread. I furrowed my brows. Normally I didn't use this deck unless I was going into extreme detail about a persons life, but then again this was his question. I laid out the cards, being careful to place the cards exactly how the spread was shown. I set the extra cards to the side, glancing up at him before flipping the cards in order. My eyes widened, mouth slightly agape.

     "Dennis?"

     "Yes, Emma?" He mused, testing my name out as if deciding upon whether or not he liked it. I licked my lips and stared at him. "What's wrong?"

     "What was your question?"

     "I didn't really have one. I just had a quick thought about you." He confessed. My face paled with the realization. A pang of betrayal rang through me, making me wince. I was staring at my past, my entire story written on display. A tear rolled down my cheek and I leaned back in my chair, faintly hearing the tearing of drywall.

     "Why you crying?" a familiar child like voice questioned. I opened my mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by a loud banging coming from the room I was in. Hedwig's eyes snapped to attention before he ran to the door. I stayed put in the chair, staring blankly at the story spread across the table, trying to collect myself together, only to find hopelessness take its place.