“You’re welcome to,” Ravenna said. “But you’ll have to ask a specific question, or the cards will tell me the same thing.”
I did my best to commit the cards on the table to memory, collected them, reshuffled and did that copiously, keeping my mind on nothing but what I had before (not hard), then handed them to her.
A chill raced right through me when she immediately threw down what appeared to be the exact same thirteen cards.
“Holy hell,” I breathed, staring at the table.
I could tell Prue, Chassie and Tempie were feeling the same way as they stared with me.
“My cards were blessed by a high priestess at Avebury,” Ravenna bragged. “They’re very powerful.”
“I’ll say,” Chassie whispered.
“Would you like to ask them a question this time?” Ravenna offered.
“Kinda,” I told her. “I want to see if my sister’s doing okay. Our mom died a little over a year ago, and it really hit us hard.”
“Of course,” Ravenna said softly.
I did the reshuffle, handed them to her, she took them, threw down three, and stated immediately, “She has a good husband. And she feels…” She tossed out another card. “Blessed that she has what she has when your mother didn’t have it. There is heaviness there, but mostly, she knows your mother was happy for her, and she feels grateful her life doesn’t have the challenges, but it does have the bounty that your mother’s life did.”
That was Solène.
And me.
We’d always been taught to try to find a bright side.
And this made me feel better.
“Though, she’d like you to call her,” Ravenna finished.
I decided to do that this evening.
“Can you…talk to dead people?” I asked.
Yup.
In those words I asked that.
Ravenna’s expression got kind(er), but she shook her head.
“And anyone who tells you they can is full of it,” she advised. “The dead can speak, but they do their own talking.”
Eek!
We finished our tea chatting, and Ravenna elevated herself even further with Tempie when we all tried to pay, and she said, “One session, it doesn’t matter how many readings. I charge by the hour. So, same price.”
This meant Prue forked over fifty pounds, we thanked Ravenna, and Chastity said, “Can I come back?”
“Of course, love. I have openings.”
She shouldn’t.
The bitch should have them lined up around Boots, for shit’s sake.
“I’ll get your number from Prue,” Chassie peeped.
And I’d get it from one of them.
