“Are you familiar with how we think realms work?”
“Sort of?” I tell her what Doc and I discussed earlier about the realms, leaving out the specifics about my own dreams and the fact that I brought back that creepy burnt holly branch. That isnota conversation I feel like getting into right now.
“Just as people can travel between realms,” Kelly says, “some witches and mages—in rare cases—have learned how to bring things into and out of realms. Your mother was one of those witches. She could bring things out of her dreams.”
Yesterday, I might have been more shocked by something like this. But after my own experience with the branch and even the injuries, the news that Mom had a similar gift is not surprising.
“I believe she’s sending these cards to you,” Kelly said. “Once they’ve served their purpose, they return to her in the dream realm.”
“But she’s not dreaming,” I say. “She’s dead.”
“Yes, but again, realms overlap.”
“She comes to me sometimes,” I say, popping a cold fry into my mouth. “In my dreams.”
“It’s easier for the dead to speak to us in dreams than it is for them to manifest in our realm. But the Tarot has its own strong magick, and somehow, she’s able to send you these cards.”
I nod, my brain rapidly approaching overload.
There are so many more things I want to ask her about my mother, magickal and mundane, but before I can formulate my next question, my phone dings in my pocket.
It’s Dr. Devane’s tone—the one we set up for Brotherhood communications.
“Go ahead and get that,” Kelly says, sliding out of the booth. “We should probably head back, and I need to pay the bill and hit the ladies’ room first.”
I nod and reach for my phone, but really, there’s no need to answer. The tone can only mean one thing.
I’ve been summoned to the Fool’s Grave.
The Brotherhood gathers tonight.
Fourteen
STEVIE
After Kelly takes us back through the portal and we say our goodbyes with a promise to schedule a tea date soon, I head to Iron and Bone to change for the meeting and await the signal. What signal, I have no freaking idea, but it wouldn’t be Arcana Academy without a little cloak-and-dagger confusion.
All Doc said was I should dress in dark colors and further instruction would be provided on an as-needed basis.
Well. I’ve never belonged to a secret society before, much less attended clandestine meetings in the middle of some creepy-ass petrified forest, but I’m pretty sure snacks are a requirement—especially since I didn’t eat much at La Naranja Vieja. And if they’re not a requirement, theywillbe. Whatever rules and regulations it may violate, a girl can’t embark on this quest-to-destroy-the-one-ring nonsense on an empty stomach.
I quickly change into my nighttime ninja-wear of black spandex and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, then pack a backpack full of peak snackaliciousness: brie and sharp cheddar, rosemary crackers, red grapes, veggies and hummus, and a bag of white cheddar popcorn to eat on the way. I almost grab a bottle of wine, but think better of it, brewing up a quick pot of my famous Gone Mental tea instead, hoping the blend of rosemary, peppermint, and sodalite gem essence will encourage alertness, mental clarity, and—word of the hour—honesty.
By the time I’m ready to rock, I’m 99% sure this is all a setup for some televised prank show. But no matter what happens tonight, I’ve got a thermos full of tea and a cooler full of snacks. What could possibly go wrong?
As if I really needed an answer, my phone buzzes with a text from Baz:Emergency exit, corridor past common room. 5 min. Tell no one.
I send him a quick reply:Is this supposed to be the signal?
Stevie,he texts.Why can’t you just follow instructions?
Instructions or orders?
Seriously?
I’m just saying, you could stand to be a little clearer in your secret messaging.
!!!
