Page 6 of A Highland Gargoyle's Lucky Star
Talk about a kick to the already fragile ego.
“Misfortune? That’s putting it mildly.” I shake my head. “Don’t know why, but I attract bad luck and the worst kinds of trouble no matter what I do. Makes it hard to keep a job, you know?” I follow that up with my biggest smile. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiring, would you?”
The mysterious owner of the shop’s dark eyes flash with amusement. “I’m afraid this is a one-man operation.” He extends a graceful hand toward the beaded curtain behind him. “However, I would be quite happy to give you a tarot card reading. Since this is the store’s opening day, your reading will be free. Consider it a one-time special offer.”
His words send a strange chill down my spine, and goose bumps rise on my arms. He’s not scary exactly, but I sense some kind of… power emanating from him. It’s not the Dark Side of the Force or anything, just something almost otherworldly.
“A free reading, huh?”
If this guy has real psychic powers, his reading might be worth a whole hell of a lot. This could be the bargain of a lifetime.
He nods his head, the top hat perched there never so much as budging an inch.
What could it hurt? I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with myself at the moment and some guidance would be awfully nice right about now.
But I also don’t want to look like an easy mark if this guy’s trying to con me.
I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow at him. “Just so you know, if this is a scam, you’re out of luck because I don’t have any money or valuables worth going after.”
His mouth quirks. “I promise this is a legitimate offer. Shall we?” he says, gesturing his arm behind him again.
I gulp. I don’t know this guy and I’m not sure if I should trust him, but my gut instinct is telling me I need to do this.
One thing that has never steered me wrong is my gut instinct.
“Lead on, my good man,” I tell him with a bow of my own.
I follow him through the beaded curtain into a back room and find myself in a Victorian-style parlor with brocade furniture. I could totally envision bougie folks paying big money to attend seances here.
The wood floors creak as we enter and I take in the polished antique furniture and unusual floral-patterned wallpaper from a bygone era. In the center of the room, under a gas-lit Grecian chandelier, is a round table covered with a black velvet cloth. The chandelier’s light is turned down low, making shadows on the walls stand out in sharp contrast.
Okay, a smidge spooky, but also super cool. This guy’s definitely leaning into a retro approach to doing readings for clients. I will admit, the decor fits perfectly with his attire, and I know a number of steampunk folks who’d dig the ambience big time.
I take a seat opposite the magic shop owner at the table.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an ornate enameled case that contains a beautiful deck of black tarot cards with gold foil trim.
With long, bony fingers, he begins to shuffle the deck.
“Tell me, young man, on what do you seek guidance?”
That’s a really good fucking question. There’s a lot I’d like answers to, for sure. Like why can’t I seem to catch a break? Is it karma from a previous life? Is it like my mom says, andsimply tied to my complicated astrological circumstances? Or is it something else?
But part of me also doesn’t really want to know the answer to any of that.
I consider his words carefully for a moment, my eyes fixated on the cards as he shuffles them in a leisurely manner that’s almost hypnotic. I can’t look away.
“I want to know what to do next. I feel like I’ve been stuck in quicksand for a while, sinking slowly but steadily into the mire, and every struggle I make only seems to speed up the inevitable. Something has to change. I can’t stay like this forever, but I don’t know how to break free of this never-ending cycle.”
Whoa. I just unloaded on this poor guy like he’s my therapist. That makes me wince.
The store owner inclines his head again. “I see. You are at a turning point and must make a big change going forward if you wish to alter your circumstances.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Sounds intimidating. What if it all goes sideways and makes my situation even worse?”
He ignores my question as he fans out the deck of tarot cards he’s been shuffling on the table and tells me, “Close your eyes and reach out your hand.”
I comply.
