“I thought you wanted me to tell you more about witchy things.”
“Do both,” he said.
Greedy and demanding.
“If you say so.”
I realized I had said that out loud. I was too tired for this, but slowly, I walked over toward my altar, reaching down below to where I kept my cards for safekeeping. Maybe this was better. Even baby witches and people who weren’t witches at all knew about tarot cards and played their hand at them. If he wanted a lesson, I’d start there.
“First off, tarot cards are usually pretty personal to a witch,” I said.
“Why?”
I lifted a shoulder as I started to shuffle, still in my dress. I dropped down onto one of the throw pillows lying on the floor, shifting my legs into a comfortable seat. Dom sat down across from me, squished between the couch and coffee table. Still, he waited patiently.
“Some people consider it bad luck to share cards,” I tried to explain. “They are more for introspection than they are to tell your future, and after a while, a relationship is formed there, based on emotion and hope for guidance. You don’t share that kind of vulnerability with just anyone. Not even in the cards.”
“But you’re going to let me hold them.”
“Absolutely not,” I said with a laugh, eyes flaring with amusement. “Touch. Maybe. Not hold. These cards have gotten me through some tough shit, and I’m not letting you ruin that mojo.”
“I respect that,” Dom said immediately, surprising me.
When I had first met Dom and he realized that I was into the whole metaphysical lifestyle, he had taken it more as a joke. To him, I was like a girl who her horoscope each week unironically. This was much different.
“Go on. Teach me more about magic,” he said, his tone holding more seriousness to it now.
“Well, magic and witchcraft are pretty personal. It depends on the person who practices. But when most people think of paganism and witchcraft, they think of religions like Wicca, which is pretty nature-based and works alongside the divine.”
“Like gods and your goddesses.”
“Sometimes. The divine is like the sublime.”
“Dumb it down for someone who didn’t go to school for humanities and was hungover for most of their morning classes.”
I chuckled, never hearing Dom talk about his school days before. “Sublime. Something that inspires admiration or awe. In other religious contexts, it was often when people brushed against the godly or mythical. The magic.”
“The magic,” Dom repeated, as if it didn’t sound so crazy to him anymore.
It wasn’t really. It was just a lot more paying attention when everything liked to move so fast.
“For most witches who practice it, magic is often just seen as the little bright spots every day. It’s their coffee turning out just right or making it on time for their appointment they thought they were going to be ate for. They harness the natural positive energy.”
“Magic is everything.”
I shrugged. “More or less. Good or bad.”
“Bad, like our pesky hex.”
“Exactly. Bad intention is still intention sent out into the world, prepared to come back and mess you up threefold if you lean too far into it.”
“Then, why do you risk it and do anything at all?”
“Because good things can come back too. At least, most people believe that. That’s why we have the Rule of Three.” At his empty expression, I filled him in. “What energy you put out into the world, good or bad, will come back to you threefold. There are a lot of paths when it comes to witchcraft and spirits, but most of them believe in that law.”
He barked a laugh, as if the entire thing was funny. “Basically, treat others how you want to be treated.”
“Basically.”
