Sierra huffed. “Right here, the chakra chart says that readings are most effective when the atmosphere matches a person’s aura. Red is for passion, orange for creativity, etc. And purple is forintuition. The fortune teller mentioned intuition, and so did Louis. So we’ve got to be looking for purple, but there’s no purple scarf !”
“Maybe it’s not about the scarves at all,” said Carter. “Maybe there’s . . . I don’t know . . . something purple in one of the paintings, or—”
“No, it’s the scarves,” said Sierra. “Look! There are these hooks up here.” She pointed to hooks Adi hadn’t noticed, spaced evenly around the lantern that hung over the table. “And each scarf has a ring sewn into the corners, exactly the right size, but there’s no purple!”
“You have red and blue,” said Beck. “Am I the only one who remembers the color wheel? What do they teach you in real school?”
“Realschool?” said Carter. “As opposed to what? Muppet school?”
“Wait, he’s right!” said Sierra. “I can’t believe I missed that. I’m a literal artist. What is wrong with me?”
“You’re hungry,” Beck said.
Sierra hung the blue and red scarves so the light from the lantern passed through the fabric and shaded the room in deep violet.
As soon as she finished, clouds swirled inside the crystal ball and it began to glow.
The fortune teller appeared again, but she looked less furious this time, more thoughtful. Her eyes were cast down, as if staring at invisible cards on the table before her. “Your first card speaks of upcoming change, a swift and brutal transformation. Your second card shows ruin and betrayal brought on not by an act of God but one’s own transgressions. Your third card shows that past grievances will be addressed and order finally restored.” The video flickered out for a second, then started up again from the top. “Your first card speaks of upcoming change . . .”
“Adi, she’s telling us the three cards we need to find,” said Carter. “Check the book!”
“I’m working on it,” said Adi, flipping through the pages. “But there are like a hundred cards in here!”
“Seventy-eight, actually,” said Beck.
“Fine, we get it!” barked Adi. “You know this woo-woo stuff and the rest of us are useless.”
“Adi!” said Carter, aghast.
He sucked in a breath and rubbed a palm against his eyes. Sierra had warned them about this.
“I know. Okay. I’m pretty sure the last one is referring to Justice. Order restored, and all that. But the first two . . .” His shoulders slumped and he looked at Beck, borderline apologetic. “Any insights?”
“I’m thinking,” said Beck, listening to the fortune teller. “The first one could be the Tower. Or the Ten of Swords. Wait—which one was about an act of God?”
“Notan act of God,” Adi corrected. “Ruin and betrayal, but not an act of God. That’s the second one.”
“Most likely the Ten of Swords for that one,” said Beck. “Okay, try: Death, Ten of Swords, Justice.”
Adi picked out the three cards and set them into the spaces on the tablecloth. The Roman numerals at the top of each card lit up.XIII—X—XI.
“Whoa,cool,” said Beck. “How are they doing that?” He peered beneath the table. “There’s got to be a sensor . . .”
“Thirteen, ten, eleven!” cried Carter. “Six digits!”
Sierra already had the small box in her hands, her fingers dialing through the digits.131011 . . .
The lid sprang open, revealing a giant skeleton key. Carter cheered as Sierra strode to the door, inserted the key into the keyhole, and turned it.
The door swung open. That bell dinged.
They had escaped.
Hold on.
They hadescaped?
But.
