"Oh, come on," I exclaimed. "What is it with me and swords? You gave me one this depressing last time." It had shown a woman weeping in front of a wall of swords.
"That was the Nine of Swords," she agreed. "It could always be worse."
"I have a hard time believing that."
She picked up the rest of the deck and scanned through it, finally pulling out one card. The Ten of Swords. "You could have drawn this." It showed a dead guy lying on the ground with a bunch of swords driven through him.
"Point taken," I said. Ambrose chuckled beside me. "What's the nine mean?"
"The nine is being trapped. Unable to get out of a situation. It can also mean slander or accusation. Summoning courage to escape something." I glanced back at the queen, thinking of the things I'd said in the Council room. Those would definitely count as accusations. And being trapped? Well, there was always the possibility of a lifetime of paperwork...
I sighed. "Okay, what's the next one?" It was the best-looking one in the bunch, the Six of Swords. It had a bunch of people in a boat, rowing off over moonlit water.
"A journey," she said.
"I was just on a journey. A few of them." I eyed her suspiciously. "Man, this isn't, like, some kind of a spiritual journey is it?"
Ambrose laughed again. "Rose, I wish you'd get tarot readings every day."
Rhonda ignored him. "If it were in cups, maybe. But swords are tangible. Action. A true, out-and-about journey."
Where on earth would I go? Did it mean I was traveling to the Academy like Tatiana had suggested? Or was it possible that, in spite of all my rule breaking and calling her royal highness names, I might actually get an assignment after all? One away from Court?
"You could be looking for something. It may be a physical journey combined with a spiritual journey," she said, which sounded like a total way to cover her ass. "This last one..." Her eyebrows knitted into a frown at the fifth card. "This is hidden from me."
I peered at it. "The Page of Cups. Seems pretty obvious. It's a page with, um, cups."
"Usually I have a clear vision.... The cards speak to me in how they connect. This one's not clear."
"The only thing that's not clear is whether it's a girl or a boy." The person on the card looked young but had hair and an androgynous face that made the gender impossible to determine. The blue tights and tunic didn't help, though the sunny field in the background seemed promising.
"It can be either," Rhonda said. "It's the lowest in rank of the cards that represent people in each suit: King, Queen, Knight, and then Page. Whoever the page is, it's someone trustworthy and creative. Optimistic. It could mean someone who goes on the journey with you--or maybe the reason for your journey."
Whatever optimism or truth I'd had in the cards pretty much disappeared with that. Given that she'd just said about a hundred things it could be, I didn't really consider it authoritative. Usually, she noticed my skepticism, but her attention was still on the card as she frowned.
"But I just can't tell.... There's a cloud around it. Why? It doesn't make sense."
Something about her confusion sent a chill down my spine. I always told myself this was fake, but if she'd been making it all up... well, wouldn't she have made something up about the Page of Cups? She wasn't putting on a very convincing act if this last card was making her question herself. The thought that maybe there was some mystical force out there blocking her sobered up my cynical attitude.
With a sigh, she looked up at last. "Sorry that's all I can tell you. Did the rest help?"
I scanned the cards. Heartache. An enemy. Accusations. Entrapment. Travel. "Some of it tells me things I already know. The rest leaves me with more questions."
She smiled knowingly. "That's how it usually is."
I thanked her for the reading, secretly glad I didn't have to pay for it. Ambrose walked me out, and I tried to shake off the mood Rhonda's fortune had left me in. I had enough problems in my life without letting a bunch of stupid cards bother me.
"You going to be okay?" he asked when we finally emerged. The sun was climbing higher. The Royal Court would be going to bed soon, ending what had been a turbulent day. "I... I wouldn't have brought you if I'd known how much it would upset you."
"No, no," I said. "It's not the cards. Not exactly. There's a bunch of other things going on... one you should probably know about."
I hadn't wanted to bring up the decree when we'd first run into each other, but as a dhampir, he had a right to hear about what had happened. His face was perfectly still as I spoke, save for his dark brown eyes, which grew wider while the story progressed.
"There's some mistake," he said at last. "They wouldn't do that. They wouldn't do that to sixteen-year-olds."
"Yeah, well, I didn't think so either, but they were apparently serious enough about it to throw me out when I, um, questioned it."
"I can just imagine your 'questioning.' All this'll do is make more dhampirs drop out of the guardians... unless, of course, being that young makes them more open for brainwashing."
"Kind of a sensitive area for you, huh?" I asked. After all, he too was a guardian drop-out.
He shook his head. "Staying in this society was nearly impossible for me. If any of those kids do decide to drop out, they won't have the powerful friends I did. They'll be outcasts. That's all this'll do. Either kill off teens or cut them off from their own people."
I wondered what powerful friends he'd had, but this was hardly the time to learn his life history. "Well, that royal bitch doesn't seem to care."
The thoughtful, distracted look in his eyes suddenly sharpened. "Don't call her that," he warned with a glare. "This isn't her fault."
Whoa. Cue surprise. I'd almost never seen sexy, charismatic Ambrose be anything but friendly. "Of course it's her fault! She's the supreme ruler of the Moroi, remember?"
His scowl deepened. "The Council voted too. Not her alone."
"Yeah, but she voted in support of this decree. She swayed the vote."
"There must have been a reason. You don't know her like I do. She wouldn't want this kind of thing."
I started to ask if he was out of his mind but paused when I remembered his relationship with the queen. Those romantic rumors made me queasy, but if they were true, I supposed he might have legitimate concern for her. I also decided it was probably best that I didn't know her the way he did. The bite marks on his neck certainly indicated some sort of intimate activity.