from the Gardener. Tara was self-conscious enough about them not to want her gaze to linger. She shrugged quickly into her black knit pajamas: wide-legged pants and a long-sleeved top that covered most of them. She didn’t need the reminders when trying to sleep … or work.
Tara reached for her cell phone and climbed into bed. She dialed the number for the farmhouse. She picked her cards out of her purse and laid them on her lap. As the phone rang, she shuffled the cards. She plucked one from the deck, turned it faceup: the Priestess. A woman in heavy robes and headdress in the shape of a crescent moon gazed serenely back at her. Tara made a face. This was the guardian of esoteric mysteries, the card of intuition. It was also the card she associated with the Pythia.
“Hello, Tara.” The Pythia answered. Tara didn’t know if she knew who was calling because she was squinting into her cigarette lighter, or whether she was using caller ID.
“Hello. Is Cassie awake?”
“Just a moment.” The phone was placed down, and Tara heard footsteps and the murmur of voices. Tara had no doubt that Delphi’s Daughters would be listening in to the conversation. She plucked another card from the deck, the Star. It depicted a young woman pouring water into a stream with a bright yellow star shining overhead. It was the card of hope, of the future. It was the card she associated most with Cassie.
“Hi, Tara.” Cassie’s voice sounded tinny over the connection.
“Cassie. How are you?”
“Good. How was your trip?”
“Tiring. Got some sleep on the plane, but it’s been nonstop running since I got here.”
“How’s Harry?”
“Good. I think.”
Tara could hear Cassie’s smile over the phone. “You don’t know?”
“Things are complicated.”
“They always are, with you two.”
Tara took a deep breath. “Hey, it looks like I might be here longer than I thought.”
“Oh.” There was a pause.
Tara pulled another card: the Four of Wands, reversed. It showed four garlanded wands and four maidens celebrating underneath, with a castle in the background. Reversed, it suggested insecurity. “Everything okay there?” Tara kept the tone of her voice light, but she worried about the girl. The cards were the only means she had of gauging the true situation back at the farmhouse, an oracle’s lie detector.
“Things are fine. The Pythia is going to start some new training with me tomorrow.”
Tara’s eyebrows crawled up. “More astrology?”
“She didn’t say. Just said that this was more ‘practical training.’”
“Hmmm.” That could be anything from cooking to martial arts.
“But I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. You’re going to call tomorrow, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night, Tara.”
“Snuggle up to Maggie and Oscar. Good night.”
The phone line clicked silent. Tara shuffled her cards back into the deck. She wasn’t happy about leaving Cassie alone with Delphi’s Daughters. But in light of this case, she couldn’t go rushing back. Her uneasiness—and Cassie’s—would have to wait.
Tara bent down to click on the lamp on the floor. She spread out Lena’s file before her. Like the others, it had been heavily redacted. But from what Tara had gathered, Lena had been Carl’s interpreter for Project Rogue Angel. She’d traveled with him throughout Europe, searching for forgotten equipment and trying to broker deals for scientists to stay. At that time, brain drain had been severely affecting the former Soviet republics. Many scientists had gone to the highest bidder. Or gone missing.
Tara shuffled her deck. “Tell me about Lena,” she breathed to it. A card skipped out of the orderly shuffle, and she pulled it.
The Queen of Pentacles stood in a lush garden, holding a star. Her dark, braided hair hung over her richly embroidered robes. The Queen of Pentacles was an earthy, practical, and sensuous woman. She was a hard worker, a
Tara reached for her cell phone and climbed into bed. She dialed the number for the farmhouse. She picked her cards out of her purse and laid them on her lap. As the phone rang, she shuffled the cards. She plucked one from the deck, turned it faceup: the Priestess. A woman in heavy robes and headdress in the shape of a crescent moon gazed serenely back at her. Tara made a face. This was the guardian of esoteric mysteries, the card of intuition. It was also the card she associated with the Pythia.
“Hello, Tara.” The Pythia answered. Tara didn’t know if she knew who was calling because she was squinting into her cigarette lighter, or whether she was using caller ID.
“Hello. Is Cassie awake?”
“Just a moment.” The phone was placed down, and Tara heard footsteps and the murmur of voices. Tara had no doubt that Delphi’s Daughters would be listening in to the conversation. She plucked another card from the deck, the Star. It depicted a young woman pouring water into a stream with a bright yellow star shining overhead. It was the card of hope, of the future. It was the card she associated most with Cassie.
“Hi, Tara.” Cassie’s voice sounded tinny over the connection.
“Cassie. How are you?”
“Good. How was your trip?”
“Tiring. Got some sleep on the plane, but it’s been nonstop running since I got here.”
“How’s Harry?”
“Good. I think.”
Tara could hear Cassie’s smile over the phone. “You don’t know?”
“Things are complicated.”
“They always are, with you two.”
Tara took a deep breath. “Hey, it looks like I might be here longer than I thought.”
“Oh.” There was a pause.
Tara pulled another card: the Four of Wands, reversed. It showed four garlanded wands and four maidens celebrating underneath, with a castle in the background. Reversed, it suggested insecurity. “Everything okay there?” Tara kept the tone of her voice light, but she worried about the girl. The cards were the only means she had of gauging the true situation back at the farmhouse, an oracle’s lie detector.
“Things are fine. The Pythia is going to start some new training with me tomorrow.”
Tara’s eyebrows crawled up. “More astrology?”
“She didn’t say. Just said that this was more ‘practical training.’”
“Hmmm.” That could be anything from cooking to martial arts.
“But I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. You’re going to call tomorrow, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night, Tara.”
“Snuggle up to Maggie and Oscar. Good night.”
The phone line clicked silent. Tara shuffled her cards back into the deck. She wasn’t happy about leaving Cassie alone with Delphi’s Daughters. But in light of this case, she couldn’t go rushing back. Her uneasiness—and Cassie’s—would have to wait.
Tara bent down to click on the lamp on the floor. She spread out Lena’s file before her. Like the others, it had been heavily redacted. But from what Tara had gathered, Lena had been Carl’s interpreter for Project Rogue Angel. She’d traveled with him throughout Europe, searching for forgotten equipment and trying to broker deals for scientists to stay. At that time, brain drain had been severely affecting the former Soviet republics. Many scientists had gone to the highest bidder. Or gone missing.
Tara shuffled her deck. “Tell me about Lena,” she breathed to it. A card skipped out of the orderly shuffle, and she pulled it.
The Queen of Pentacles stood in a lush garden, holding a star. Her dark, braided hair hung over her richly embroidered robes. The Queen of Pentacles was an earthy, practical, and sensuous woman. She was a hard worker, a
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