Emily handed over the bags and stuffed animal to her friend. She felt somewhat reassured now that Melody seemed more like her normal self. Following the Amazing Mikhail into the closed room, she was surprised to find it had a soothing and calming atmosphere. In her mind she had stereotypically expected to find a velvet tablecloth with the moon and stars embossed in gold on top of a wobbly round table. The table, of course, would be lifted off the floor, as needed, later in the discourse. Instead she found a tastefully decorated room with a faint, aqua blue wall color.

Though no oranges were visible, the scent of citrus permeated the air.

A Victorian gold upholstered sofa, two Queen Anne chairs, and an elaborate claw-footed desk comprised the only furniture. On a tea table underneath the window, an exquisite clear crystal ball sat on a large dark wood pedestal. Quality landscape oil paintings decorated the walls. What happened to the typical portrait of an ancestor with the eyes which follow you all around the room?

“I keep those in the living room upstairs. If you would like to see them we could go up there,” Mikhail said, her eyes glittering with humor.

“You read minds as well?” Keep your mind blank, Emily.

“Not really. Your facial expressions are very easy to read. For example, now you’re thinking you want to keep your mind empty, or blank.” Mikhail sat on the settee and crossed her legs.

Her multi-colored purple, burgundy, and gold silk skirt draped over her legs. Mikhail was tall, elegant, and composed, and Emily wanted to hate her on sight. Instead she had a strong sense to remain and hear what Mikhail had to say.

Emily took one of the Queen Anne chairs. Mikhail sat on the sofa and reached up to adjust the turban on her head. The iridescent sleeves of her blouse fell toward her elbows. The bangles on her arms chimed together. She had created an authentic gypsy persona. Would her fortune be authentic as well?

Emily folded her arms and then unfolded her arms. She clasped her hands together. “What happens now?”

“Well, you tell me what information you seek and which method you would like for me to use: crystal ball, tarot cards, rune stones, numerology or palm. We’ll go from there.”

“If I tell you what I seek, will it remain in confidence?” She kept her gaze focused on Mikhail.

“Yes.” No trace of emotion in her voice, she crossed her hands on her lap. One index finger tapped the top of the other hand. She presented the illusion of an elaborately dressed priest waiting for Emily’s confession. And Emily wanted to rid herself of the guilt.

Mikhail had a solemn, knowing look on her face. She didn’t blink or turn her face away, which indicated she either told the truth or she excelled at lying.

Emily decided to risk it.

“Then I’ll tell you what I need to find out, and you select the best method to secure the information.”

“Continue.” The tapping of the mystic’s index finger stopped dead.

“As you said, I’m due to be married in a few days. The pre-wedding stress has affected me quite a bit. I’ve been hearing a voice. I consulted with a physician. After some discussion, a possible diagnosis indicated I may have a case of hypnopompic. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes. It’s a state of transition in semi-consciousness between sleep and awareness. It may be a form of sleep paralysis, but usually people experience visual or auditory hallucinations. Some may experience out of body experiences. What do you experience?” Mikhail uncrossed her legs, leaned forward, and placed her elbows on her knees. The bangles chimed in the silent room.

“Usually auditory and visual.” She hesitated. Maybe she didn’t really want to know. This woman, who she at first believed to be a charlatan, might be a real prophet and could see into the future. How many people could provide the definition of a little known paranormal oddity such as hypnopompic? And if Mikhail was a true seer, did Emily want to know whether she had hallucinations or visitations by an aggrieved ghost?

“Are the visuals patterns or images?”

“Patterns and just one voice. Usually saying my name. A masculine voice.”

“I see. You want to find out who the voice belongs to.” Mikhail stood, walked over to the desk and sat behind it. “Come.” She waved her hand.

Emily rose, and walked over to the other Queen Anne chair across from the desk.

Mikhail gathered tarot cards and shuffled the deck. “You need to shuffle this once and fan out the cards. Pick any three cards from the deck and place them face up on the table. The second card should be placed to the left of the first card. The third card placed on the right of the first card. You must concentrate on one aspect of a decision to be made or question while drawing the card.”

A force pulled her further into this web of mystery and mysticism. She must discover, divine or infer the source of the voice. Good or bad.

Earthly or unearthly.

Angelic or demonic.

Ghost or hallucination.

She shuffled, drew out three cards, and placed them face up on the table. Mikhail watched closely.

They mystic carefully viewed the cards on the table top. She threw her head back and stared at the door. Emily glanced behind her, thinking Melody had come into the room. Empty space. A shiver of unease rippled over her skin. She returned her attention back to Mikhail. The fortune teller removed the turban and combed her fingers through her hair.

“Emily, I must ask you if you’re a religious person.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with the forecast of my future, but I was raised as a Catholic. For the past two years I haven’t attended mass. Although, I believe I’m a spiritual person.” She lifted her glance from the elaborate, elegantly detailed, tarot cards to connect with Mikhail’s gaze.

“The voice is not a hallucination and does not belong to a…ghost.” Mikhail bit her lower lip. The white of her teeth gleamed against the red lipstick.

“Then, what is it?”

Mikhail touched the cards, moved her hands to her lips, and then ran them through her hair, separating the strands to puff out from the sides. Finally, she rested her hands flat on the desk.

“The three cards are all Major Arcana and laid out in the Romany Draw Layout, Past, Present, Future. The one on the left is the past. It’s the Queen of Swords. You’ll notice she has long blonde hair, much like yourself. She’s holding a man’s head in one hand and, with an uplifted hand, points a sword toward heaven. The middle card represents the present or current events. It’s the Three of Wands, a figure standing on a cliff looking out to the sea. His back is turned away from us, toward the distant mountains.”

She glanced at the card and then up, beyond Emily. “The one on the right tells the future. Death, a dark skeletal figure riding a horse with the dark banner held high. The death card frightens us, but death isn’t a closing stage, rather, we must die in order to transition to a new birth.”

Mikhail’s gaze remained fixed beyond Emily’s shoulder. “The cards provide insight on the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual levels of consciousness. No matter what the question is, an answer or direction will be forthcoming. Sometimes chance is beyond our control. Most of the time choices are within our control. This card, the Three of Wands, is especially important because it represents what lies ahead. It suggests taking a long view for greater possibilities.” She raised her hands to her head and rubbed her temples, then blinked. “Did you hear the voice?”

“No. I only hear your voice,” Emily replied. “I’m confused.”

“Do you mean harm to this young woman?”

“Who are you talking to?” Emily asked in a whisper, noting Mikhail’s wide-eyed gaze. The medium closed her eyes, and her head tilted to one side. The fortune teller had fainted.

Emily shook her. “Mikhail, are you still with me?”

“Yes, please stop, Ariel.” Mikhail heaved a sigh.

“Do you have water or tea I can get for you?” Emily clasped Mikhail’s arm; it glistened with sweat. “Your skin’s as white as the curtains on the windows. You’ve been out of it for a few minutes. And you talked to someone who didn’t appear to be in the room. At least I couldn’t see anyone.”

Mikhail stood and staggered over to a maple-paneled wall. The contours of the wall hid a beverage refrigerator. She opened the fridge door and drew out a bottle of water and drank half of it. “You’ll return on Monday at ten, and we’ll conclude.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I need to be at the museum on Monday. I’m a curator, and we’ve a new shipment which needs to be unloaded. How about Thursday?” Emily pulled her Blackberry PDA out of her purse. “Probably Thursday morning will work. Ten in the morning?” She punched the stylus on the face of the PDA to bring up her calendar.

“The Three of Wands suggest you explore the unknown.” Mikhail wiped her forehead. “He said you’d refuse.”

“Who said I’d refuse?” The woman didn’t make sense. Maybe she’d had a stroke or something. Mikhail continued to look pale and concentrated her glance on the three cards placed on the table top.

“Netzach. It’s his voice you hear. He told me if you came back on Monday, at ten, then you would see him.” She took a tissue out of one of the many pockets in her outer-dress and wiped her sweat-beaded forehead. “You didn’t hear his voice then?”

“No. I only heard you talk. He’s here, in the flesh, so to speak? Is he paranormal? A ghost? How was he communicating with you?” Emily’s gaze scanned the room. She wanted answers now.

“His name is Netzach. He’s your watcher.” She focused on the cards.

“His name is Netzach.” The name alone sent warm tingles throughout Emily’s body. She slid the name around on her tongue, caressed it and softly enunciated the heavenly name aloud again. “Netzach.”

She squint her eyes and pierced Mikhail with a fierce look. “What is a watcher?”

“Return on Monday if you want answers.” Mikhail dismissed her and walked toward a door.

Emily assumed the door led to the back of the house.

“Wait, who is Ariel?”

“You’re Ariel.”

“What does that mean?” Emily’s original goal was to find out about the voice. Now she had another set of questions.

“Return on Monday for answers.” Mikhail firmly closed the door.

Emily ground her teeth. With a sigh she returned to the lobby and found Melody asleep on the sofa. She must have overdosed on the sugar today, because the sofa did not look comfortable. Even with the weight of Melody’s round body, no indentations appeared on the cushions.

“Melody!” Emily shook her.

Nothing.

Emily went to the door, opened and closed it. The bells jangled loudly and echoed in the room. She repeated it two more times, until finally Melody came out of her stupor. The cat took off at a run to follow the fortune teller’s path.

“You’re giving me a headache.” Melody puckered her brow into a frown and then rose from the sofa. She gathered their bags and trinkets.

“Let’s go. I may have broken the fortune teller.”