The Mystic’s Gift—by Emma Kathryn

Every breath was a rasp. Every movement was a great effort. Every blink was a beckoning of sleep.

Lydia quietly cursed the young girl who’d pulled her off the street and into the tarot reader’s parlour. She’d expected maybe a silver-tongued, middle-aged woman. Not a woman in her nineties that looked like she could die at any moment. The old woman clearly struggled with the tarot reading.

The little girl stood at the old mystic’s side. One card was flipped incredibly slowly.

“The Tower,” the little girl announced, making Lydia jump. “Something big has changed in your life. For a while, you might have thought it was the end of your world.”

Lydia glanced between the little girl and the old lady. The old one’s eyes were glazed over with thick cataracts; she clearly couldn’t see what was on the card. And breathing was evidently challenging enough, never mind speaking. It made sense that this little girl was trained to say what the cards meant, but Lydia felt like the girl was a ventriloquist’s dummy for a brief moment. Mouth opening and closing as the old woman threw words in her direction.

“I lost my job,” Lydia, the tourist, said somewhat vacantly. Nobody said anything back, as if they didn’t really care if they were right or wrong. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to agree with them. Maybe she was just supposed to listen?

The next card flipped.

“The Chariot,” the girl proclaims. “You have fought to reclaim control. Your goals are within your reach.”

“Oh,” Lydia gasped. “I did apply for a bunch of new jobs, and I’ve even decided to go back to college part-time.”

Something bubbled up inside of her. She didn’t expect to actually find this exciting. Mostly because she didn’t believe in this shit but also because she’d been dragged in against her will by a twelve-year-old. The girl didn’t wait for her to keep waxing lyrical about her hopes and dreams, and the old woman turned the final card.

“The Star,” the girl said with a relieved sigh. Something changed in the air. The old woman shuddered in her seat. “Rejuvenation and rebirth.” The little girl looked like she wanted to weep with joy.

Everything had made a sort of sense up until that point. “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, suddenly confused. The bubbling excitement was replaced by rancid fear.

The little hand reached up and touched the old woman’s shoulder. “This is it, Mama,” she whispered. “She is the one.”

At that moment, the old woman collapsed on the table, sending the rest of the deck of cards spilling to the floor. Cups and wands and pentacles and swords pointed up at Lydia, and she reached for the old woman.

“Oh my god,” she said in one breath. This was it. She knew this old lady was dying on her. “Is she okay? Do you want me to call an ambulance?!”

Then the old woman clutched at Lydia’s wrist and lifted her head. Her old white eyes burned through her, and she felt an immense heat where their skin connected. Everything burned in her. Everything. Lydia watched as the glaze fell from the woman’s eyes and her skin tightened. Hair thickened, and body plumped.

Lydia knew someone was going to steal from her in this goddam shack. She just thought it would be her money and not her youth.

The husk of Lydia fell to the floor. Breath came in rasps as she tried to comprehend what was going on. Everything felt heavy, and she felt like she was dying.

The mystic stood from the table, refreshed and finally looking like a woman in her forties again. The little girl wept and threw her arms around her waist. “Mama.”

“I know, sweet child. It’s been an age,” she said, crying her own tears too. “Let’s get this one up.”

They each reached down and helped to pull the old Lydia into the chair at the table. She had aged at least fifty years. As her tiny frame rested in the chair, a sense of doom washed over her. Almost as if the chair was saying, “We’re going to be together for a long time.”

“I’m sorry, but this place is yours now,” the mother said. “When the right one comes along, you can take their gift and leave. It’s been such a long time for me.” She glanced at the child, who was still wiping tears from her eyes. “For us. Each time I thought we’d found the one, I was wrong. Then, there you were. Walking down the street without realizing how special you are. Thank you for freeing me. Thank you so much.”

“What…have you…done to me?” Lydia coughed past her dry and dusty tongue.

“I have passed along the gift of sight. As it was passed on to me.”

“I…don’t want it. Take it…back,” Lydia murmured, reaching for the woman. She stepped out of reach and took her daughter with her.

“We have to leave now,” the woman said and nodded to her daughter.

The child hugged Lydia, and the pair left. The tiny fortune teller’s store filled with cold now as her life stepped out the door.

A single tear ran down Lydia’s old face as she wept for a gift not given but taken.

AUTHORS BIO:

Emma Kathryn is a horror fanatic from Glasgow, Scotland. When she's not scaring herself to death, she is either podcasting as one half of The Yearbook Committee Podcast or she's streaming indie games on Twitch.

You can find her on Twitter @ girlofgotham.