“Yeah. True. True.” Nell put her hands on Seelie’s shoulders. “I also meant it when I said you’ve got moxie.”
“I’m still not sure what that is.”
“What matters is, when you’ve got it, the world knows it.” She nodded at the archway. “Go kick some ass. And when you get to the land of the dead, don’t take any shit from anybody.”
“Not planning on starting now,” Seelie said.
She turned to face Tyler. He was an animal in a trap, panicky under his own skin, the kind of terror that makes a fox chew his own leg off.
Seelie threw her hands around him and pulled him close. His arms engulfed her, tight and strong. His heart pounded a staccato beat against her ear as she put her head to his chest.
“I don’t hug,” she said into his shirt.
“I know.”
“So, don’t get used to this.”
“I know.”
She pulled away. Not too far.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “And you have to make me a promise.”
“Name it,” he said.
“When I get back, you have to draw me.”
He blinked. “Draw…”
“Draw me, artist man. You have to draw my picture.”
“I haven’t drawn anything in—”
“A long time, I know,” Seelie said. “And it’s long past due. I saw your comics, remember? You’re too good an artist not to be making art. Promise me.”
“I promise,” he said.
“Good.”
She turned to the door. Nell started to say something. Seelie silenced her with a wave of her hand.
“Don’t say goodbye,” Seelie told her. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared into the dining room.
“You okay?” Nell said.
Tyler shook his head. “Need some air. I’m gonna go outside for a minute.”
“Want me to come?”
“No.” He paused. “But thank you for asking. I’ll be on the porch for a little bit.”
She didn’t follow him. She hovered in the living room, alone, drifting beside the mantel and ordering her thoughts on neat little index cards.
This was the story of the century. No. The story of all time. Magic. Monsters. Witches. Immortals, and a conspiracy buried at the heart of the revolution. It was all true. All of it.
And she and Tyler were going to tell the entire world. They were going to make history.
They would only get one shot. They’d have to tell it right and back up every word with so much evidence that the most die-hard skeptic would have to give a little ground. She started piecing through what they’d learned, bit by bit, assessing which facts would stand on their own and which ones needed more groundwork.
“Stop thinking so damn loud,” Patty’s granddaughter groaned from the kitchen.
Nell drifted into the kitchen. The teenager had a pair of tarot decks out on the Formica-topped table, cards spread across the retro green-chip surface. One deck, off to the side, sported lush oils and dark landscapes. Instead of human figures on the cards, the subjects were bright-eyed humanoid cats in renaissance clothing. The other deck was more traditional, older, its ink gone dull with age and the corners of the cards worn down.
“You can read minds?” Nell asked.
The kid rolled her eyes. “No. I can hear you pacing. Loudly.”
“Sorry. It was Maxine, right?”
“Max.” She arched one eyebrow, just above her swoop of Egyptian mascara. “So. Strange things are afoot at La Casa Grandmama. You bring the weirdness with you?”
“Probably.”
“Take it with you when you leave. Or don’t. Whatever. Pepsi in the fridge, if you want one.”
“Thanks,” Nell said. She looked to the table. “What are the cards telling you?”
“That a strange woman is going to come over and bother me.” Max’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow. The prophecy came true.”
Nell raised her open palms in surrender. “Sorry.”
“No big. Want a reading?”
Nell had never been a believer in tarot cards. Then again, her standards of belief had undergone a seismic shift in the last day or so. She pulled back the chair on the other side of the table and sat down. Max gathered up the cards from the older, worn-down deck, squared them, and passed them over.
“Shuffle,” she said.
“How many times?”
“Until you feel like stopping. Go with your gut, don’t second-guess it.”
The pasteboard riffled against her fingers, cards slapping down against the Formica. She shuffled, started over, then stopped halfway through the deck. She wasn’t sure why. Just an impulse.
“Here,” she said.
“Now cut the cards,” Max told her. “Anywhere you want.”
Nell scooped off a tiny stack from the top of the deck, moving it to the bottom. She slid the cards across the table.