Page 34 of Hijack the Seas: Seismic

“Kind of. The witch who enchanted them for Eugeniue said that they could predict the overall climate of a situation, but yeah.”

“So, is it a good card?”

“It can be. Tarot cards aren’t exactly good or bad. It depends on where they fall in a reading.”

“Then what does it mean on its own?”

I knew Alphonse was only keeping me talking to cheer me up, but I answered him anyway. I could almost hear the card’s usual happy burble informing me of the various possibilities. I’d listened to them so often growing up that I could recite them from memory.

“The World shows a woman dressed in purple cloth stepping through a large laurel wreath,” I said. “Her head is turned behind her, toward the past, while her body moves forward into the future. She holds two wands in her hands, like the one seen on the Magician card, symbolizing that what began with the Magician has now come to fruition in the World—”

“What began with the magician?”

I shrugged. “Again, it can be a lot of things. Unlimited potential is the usual meaning, but it depends. Or, in this case, potential realized.”

“Okay.”

“Likewise, the wreath is circular, like a portal to another world. It also recalls the Wheel of Fortune, symbolizing life’s cyclical nature, where one cycle closes to allow another to begin. The four figures at the card’s corners are a lion, a bull, a cherub, and an eagle. They represent the four elements, the four fixed signs of the zodiac, the four compass points, and the four suits of the tarot. They are here to act as guides in the new cycle, bringing aid on the journey.

“One World is ending and telling you it’s time to move on to the next. Is this always positive? No. But is it necessary? Yes. It’s a sign of a significant and inevitable change, one of tectonic magnitude. It’s also a warning not to let your fears hold you back and instead embrace the knowledge that your journey has brought you, using it as a catalyst for growth.

“Reversed it means refusing to let go of the past to experience the fresh start you’re longing for. You can become your own worst enemy if you don’t listen to the advice of the World.”

“Impressive,” Alphonse said. “How many times have you heard that?”

“A couple thousand,” I admitted. “Maybe more.”

“So, upright, new phase, embrace it. Reversed, new phase, embrace it or else.”

“Kinda.”

“And what does it mean if it’s torn in two?”

But for that, I didn’t have an answer.

And we didn’t have time anyway, as the outer door to the little antechamber we had parked our dripping butts in suddenly slammed open. And there he stood, in all his mangled glory: Æsubrand, heir to the Svarestri throne, dragging a familiar purple tentacle and breathing like an ox on steroids. Until he saw me, that was, and the pewter-colored eyes narrowed to slits.

Well, crap, I thought and dropped my calamari. And managed to catch him with the Pythian power halfway through a lunge so fast that I hadn’t even seen it, I’d just known that it was coming. Which was why, when the shit show next door suddenly came running, the Svarestri hope was suspended off of the floor, cussing up a storm and with his hands grasping for my neck.

It got messy after that, with lots of shouting and people, because the prince’s entourage had muscled in, too, and they didn’t like me any more than their master did. And lots of jostling for room, which didn’t make Alphonse happy, who started snapping and snarling at anybody who got too close because he knew how quickly a shiv could go into vulnerable flesh. He’d done it often enough himself.

Pritkin finally fought his way over and grabbed me. “Can you?” he asked grimly.

I assumed he meant drop Æsubrand on his face, so I did, but that caused another stir, so I decided to assume that he also meant “get us out of here.” So, I did that, too, while the juice was still flowing, and I could. Leaving the whole squirming, furious mess behind.

Chapter Eleven

We ended up back in our room in a pile, almost landing on the Horror Twins and setting them to screeching. I just lay there momentarily while everybody sorted themselves out, staring at the glittering ceiling and wondering how I got into these things. I had assumed that, eventually, I would start to morph into one of those serene, elegant, powerful women that the Pythian name evoked, and maybe I would.

But it was taking its own sweet time.

“Holy shit!” Alphonse said. “You gotta warn a guy when you’re going to do—what the fuck is that?”

It looked like his freak-out about shifting was about to be overtaken by a freak-out about the twins. And when a master vamp freaks out, it is a very scary thing. I looked up to see extra-long fangs fully extended, a knife he didn’t need in one hand, and the big body in a superhero pose ready to launch itself at—

“Don’t overreact,” Pritkin told him, which didn’t help. And neither did the knife, which Pinkie didn’t seem to like around me. Which was how the big bad vamp met the big bad demon, or at least a smallish pissed-off demon, who stuck out a tentacle and . . .

Bopped him on the nose.

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