‘Yes, your majesty!’ Jonan winked. ‘But what’s in the cards? It has you looking serious.’
‘Oh, nothing.’ She swept them up off the table, scattering the spread before Jonan could get a look.
‘That bad, eh?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about right now. Amelia’s up to something, I can feel it, but I haven’t figured it out yet.’
‘Up to something? You mean beyond shooting her mouth off about Salu paying her a visit?
‘But why would she talk about it now? She has had star visitors since before the Triad broke up, and not just Salu. She knows they aren’t ghosts, and she knows why they’re there. Why would she lie?’ Doriel picked up the tarot deck and started to shuffle. ‘She keeps her identity as under-wraps as we do, but today she goes on national TV and lays a trail of crumbs that leads to her biggest secret. We know she’s not stupid. We know she’s not self-sacrificing so, I say again, why?’
Jonan shrugged. ‘She knows how far she’s drifting from the path we came here to walk. She knows where Salu’s loyalties lie. He is Beth’s brother, for goodness sake, and Beth was always born to step into Amelia’s shoes if she failed. Amelia has just marked Salu, and us, as an enemy.’
‘I won’t believe that, Jonan. I know you’re angry with her, but I know she can find her way back to the truth.’
Jonan put a hand on Doriel’s back. ‘We always knew she would be our biggest challenge. That’s why Beth came. We just have to stay alert until we figure out which particular endgame she has in sight. I have absolutely no doubt that whatever she’s up to is meticulously designed to both further her own interests and distract us so we don’t get in her way.’
‘No. It was never a given that Amelia would leave us. She always planned to keep the Triad together. She may not be my natural sister, Jonan, but she was always good until…’
‘Until I came along and ruined things?’
‘No. You were barely more than a child. She did wrong. I know that, but there should have been a way out without this happening.’
Jonan laughed. ‘You keep telling yourself that. I was seventeen. I may have been a lot younger than Amelia, but I was no child. I thought I was in love. I thought I was following my path. I had seen the dreams. I was sure she was the one for me.’
Doriel sighed. ‘Any of us could have told you she wasn’t. You should have asked.’
‘And that’s all you would have said, is it? You wouldn’t have warned me off her, or torn a strip off her for dating your sister’s son?’
Doriel shrugged her shoulders. ‘I would have also told you the girl in your dreams was not Amelia.’
Jonan closed his eyes. ‘I’ll always wonder if that would have changed things.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m being sentimental about losing my friend. If you and Amelia had never happened the Triad might have succeeded, but Beth wouldn’t have woken up. There are no easy answers.’
Jonan pulled her into a hug. Doriel had always been more than an aunt. His mother, Miranda, the third member of the Triad, was diligent but distant. Even as a small child he had turned to Doriel for comfort. When the Triad broke up and Miranda went into spiritual seclusion, Doriel had taken over parenthood seamlessly.
‘I’ll get you that coffee,’ he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. He had a vague memory of seeing an indigo tattoo there in another lifetime, but now there was nothing, just warm, fair skin, and a few fine lines.
‘You charmer, you.’
Jonan laughed, hearing the hoarseness in his voice. When his mother had found him kissing her best friend, she had walked away. It was Doriel who’d stepped up, proving to him that he still had a family, that he was worth loving. He would always adore her for that.
Jonan took the stairs two at a time and put the kettle on. He peeled off his wet, stinking top, and strode over to the bedroom. It was a small room. Everything about this flat was small, from the low ceiling to the narrow, uneven staircase. But there was enough space for a double bed, a wardrobe and a set of shelves for his books and tarot cards. Crystals were dotted around the room in every nook and cranny.
The picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a poster he’d bought years ago and had never been able to part with, despite the scuffed and torn edges. The woman in the middle was walking away, but she had turned to look at the camera. Her dark hair was bound with flowers and flowed long and wavy down her back. She wore a floaty green chiffon dress that matched the emerald of her eyes. She was the girl in his dreams. The girl that wasn’t Amelia. The girl he had just met at the studio. He knew it wasn’t really Beth but, somehow, that other, timeless version of Beth was looking out at him through those eyes, just as much as through Beth’s own.
Beth
BETH HATED PARTIES.
She hadn’t agreed to this and didn’t want to be here, but Laura insisted Beth couldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate. Now, the small flat was full to bursting with Laura’s friends from the TV studio, most of whom were complete strangers.
Music blared from the speakers, distorting the heavy beat and vague, computer-generated backing. People swayed as they shouted into each other’s ears in an attempt at conversation.
Laura was up on the wobbly legged dining table in skin-tight black trousers and a crop-top that showed off her tiny waist and flat, toned stomach. She circled her hips to the beat, her arms up above her head, eyes hooded. Her pixie cut was damp where it was carefully styled against pink cheeks.
A man Beth didn’t recognise stood at the end of the table, gaze locked with Laura’s. He beckoned to her.
She shook her head, grinning, but stepped back, making space for him to join her.
He vaulted up, sending tremors through the flimsy wooden legs of the table, which was already rocking with Laura’s movement.
The doorbell rang again. Beth shook her head and turned to push her way through the crowded room, leaving Laura to her seduction. The hall was no clearer than the lounge, and she had to nudge people aside in order to open the front door and squash another group into the already overcrowded space.
Beth had no idea where the ten close friends she had invited to this party had hidden themselves, and she couldn’t face battling her way through to find them. The pervasive stench of beer and the stifling heat from so many bodies was making her feel nauseous. She ducked into the kitchen to grab an open bottle of wine and picked up her coat from the stand by the door. In a moment she was down the communal concrete stairs and out on the grass. Pointing her face up to the stars, she breathed in the night air and relaxed.
The wind was full of autumn and had a sharp nip to it. Beth pulled her coat tight and sat down at the base of the huge tree outside the flat. The fresh night air was a relief and she breathed in deeply. She could see this tree from the living room window. It was her touchstone. It grounded her.
She pushed her hands into her pockets to keep back the chill. Her fingers closed around the deck of tarot cards. The new, shiny box was stiff and she fumbled, trying to open it with cold fingers. Bit by bit, she slid off the lid. The deck was smooth and fitted perfectly into her small hands, so she started to shuffle. The brand-new cards caught as they slid against each other. One flew out and landed, face up on the grass. Beth leaned forwards. The light from the street lamp just illuminated the picture.