Teddy caught my gaze for a split second, leaving me wondering which part of that question she’d thought was relevant to me.
“Let’s do a situation-obstacle-advice spread,”Amysuggested whenTeddyhesitated long enough. “Somethingbroad enough that you can keep the specifics to yourself.Justthink of any situation in your life that you want insight into.”
Teddy nodded, andAmystarted shuffling, instructingTeddyto tell her when to stop.Shelaid out three cards in a neat row, the candlelight flickering across the colourful design on the backs.Sheflipped them one at a time as she talked through them.
“Your situation card is theFiveofSwords,” she said, pointing to a card showing figures in what looked like theaftermathof conflict. “Thisrepresents hostility, defeat, or unnecessary conflict.Youmight be caught up in a situation where everyone feels like they’re losing.”
Teddy’s expression was carefully neutral, butIsaw her fingers tighten slightly around her glass of water.
“Your obstacle isTheEmperorreversed,”Amycontinued. “Thissuggests that your own need for control, your hubris perhaps, might be getting in your way.Youmight be so focused on being right or maintaining authority that you’re missing opportunities for connection.”
I couldn’t help but continue to watchTeddy, wondering what was going on in her mind.Wasthis hitting home, or was it making her bristle?Icouldn’t quite read her sudden stiffness.
“And your advice card isTheEmpress,”Amyfinished. “She’sabout nurturing, abundance, and natural wisdom.Theadvice here seems to be about changing your approach– you’ll do better with honey than vinegar, as they say.”
Amy seemed pleased with her little joke, smiling to herself, but the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken implications.Icould seeTeddyprocessing the reading; could almost watch her connecting the dots to her own situation.Oursituation.
“Interesting,” she said finally; flatly. “Thankyou.”
“Chloe’s turn,”Fatimasaid,Amyalready shuffling the cards again.
I glared atFatimafor the umpteenth time that evening before settling into position across fromAmy, trying to ignore the wayTeddywas watching me with newfound intensity.Willowcame to nestle in my lap, andItried to focus on stroking her instead.
Amy shuffled and laid out my three cards in turn whenInodded, flipping them before studying them in the candlelight.Whenshe looked up, her expression was cautious.Amyknew me– if she was nervous about interpreting this spread,Iwas nervous, too.Icould feel my heart speeding up in my chest, and it felt like everyone around me was holding their breath.
“Your situation is theTwoofPentaclesreversed,” she said. “Thissuggests a lack of passion or direction in your life.Youmight be going through the motions without really feeling connected to what you’re doing.”
That stung, partly because it felt unfair–I’dbeen more passionate about my work at the farm than anythingI’ddone in years– and partly because there might be some truth to it.Wasn’tthat howI’dended up in my current position to begin with?Maybethis was a lingering energy from before; from whyI’dstarted atGwenynento begin with.
“Your obstacle is theSevenofSwords,”Amycontinued. “Thisrepresents overthinking, self-deception, or getting in your own way through excessive analysis.Youmight be so busy thinking about what youshouldfeel or do that you’re missing what youactuallyfeel or want.”
I felt heat creep up my neck.
“And your advice…”Amypaused dramatically. “TheTower.Thisis about sudden change, breakthrough, liberation.Theadvice here is to stop overthinking and let it burn.Sometimesyou have to let the old structures fall down to build something new.”
“Let it burn,”Irepeated quietly, the words feeling significant in a wayIcouldn’t quite name yet.
I looked up and caughtTeddy’seye across the candlelit circle.Thelight played across her features, highlighting the sharp line of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the intensity in her gaze that made my breath catch.
“I need another drink,”Isaid abruptly, standing up so quickly thatIstartledWillowand nearly knocked over one of the candles.Iescaped to the kitchen, whereTeddyhad left a bottle of the mead as her contribution to the evening.Ipoured myself a generous glass and took a large gulp, trying to calm the sudden racing of my heart.
Let it burn.Whatwas that supposed to mean?Andwhy had looking atTeddyin the candlelight made every nerve ending in my body suddenly come alive?
“You okay?”
I spun around to findTeddyherself standing in the doorway, concern written across her features.
“Fine,”Isaid quickly. “Justneeded some air.”
“In the kitchen?”
“Needed some … different air.”
Teddy stepped further into the room, andIfound myself backing up untilIhit the worktop behind me.Shewas close enough thatIcould smell her, the scent of wildflowers on her like always; could see the way the kitchen light caught the gold threads in her hair.
“The reading seemed to hit a nerve,” she said quietly.
“Did it?”Itried to sound casual, but my voice came out slightly breathless.
