Page 55 of Charmed, I'm Sure

“Oh, now that is a juicy piece that we should look into,” Elora says with a soft clap of her hands.

“Don’t screw this up,” Astraea says before she cleans her paws as if she didn’t drop some huge revelation in my lap.

Elora leans closer, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “I know you don’t know how rare it is for The Weaver to send a message to a witch, let alone a wolf, but it’s no small thing.”

I nod my head slowly, not really sure who exactly The Weaver is, but if I had to guess, it would be the equivalent of our Moon Goddess? Maybe.

“Uh…” I point towards Astraea. “Is it common for familiars to talk?”

Her shoulders droop as she looks between me and her rabbit, who isn’t paying any attention to me. Her eyebrow hooks up and I can almost see the question forming before she even says it.

“Did you not know that they could talk?”

“Well, Nyx never talks, but Bellamy is always talking to someone. Although anytime I’ve directly asked, she’s avoided answering me.”

“Oh, this is hilarious. Uh, well, Nyx might talk, but you would have to ask him. I wouldn’t know since he’s not my familiar.” She winks at me before picking up another incense stick and lighting it with one of the many candles.

She waves the smoke around between us and the air is thick with rosemary. I’m trying not to cough as it fills my lungs, worried that I’ll mess up the spell or incantation orwhatever it is she’s doing.

“Now that you’ve had an unsolicited prophecy from the bunny, that could be good or bad, let’s see what the cards hold for you.”

She hovers her hand over the top of the cards, gliding from side to side. Her eyes are closed as she hums a soft tune. I don’t say a word, barely breathe as I watch in fascination.

Slowly, three cards slide out from the deck, not by her hands or mine, but as if a string from me is pulling them. I swear if I focus hard enough I can almost see the silvery thread from my soul, I think, to the edge of the card.

Her eyes spring open as she looks down at the cards. “Ah, I see why The Weaver has been nagging me all week about talking to you.”

My eyes widen. “What does any of this even mean?” I say as I lean forward,trying and failing to understand what any of these cards mean.

“Alright, Wolf Boy, these cards represent the past, present, and future of your life. Let’s see what all the hagabaloo is about.”

She picks up a card with a man hanging upside down. Flipping the card around, she shows the card to me.

“That’s interesting. This is about suspension. Waiting. Seeing the world from a different angle. You see, you both have been in limbo. While you’ve been chasing the pull you didn’t understand…Bellamy, has well…been pretending she doesn’t feel it.”

Astraea flicks her ear as she gives me the side-eye. “Translation: You both are stubborn idiots.”

She lays the card back down on the table before picking up the next one. Just as before, she holds the card up between us.

“The lovers, the bond. It’s here, clear as day. As you already know. Fate might have woven you two together, but you have to choose each other. And right now? She’s choosing to fight it.”

Astraea twitches her nose. “Bold of you to assume she’llever say yes,” she waves her paw in front of me, “to whatever this is.”

After Elora sets down the lovers, the next card makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There on the card is Death itself.

“That can’t be good,” I say as I suck in a breath, not sure if I want to know what it means.

Elora shakes her head, a smile spreading across her face. “Don’t worry, Miles. In this case, this isn’t death in the sense of yours or hers. It’s symbolizing transformation—burning the old to make way for the new. If you want to save her, you’re going to have to end something. Maybe it’s the curse. Maybe it’s a fear. Or it’s both.”

“No pressure or anything,” Astraea says with the most deadpan look a bunny can make.

“Wait…what do you mean by if I want to save her and what curse?”

Standing with a sigh, she says, “It’s not my story to tell.” Her skirt whispers across the floor as she walks to a tall shelf tucked in the far corner. “But it is my responsibility to make sure you have the tools to figure it out.”

She runs her finger over a row of leather-bound books before pulling one free. The cracked spine is etched with symbols I don’t recognize.

“I always wondered why I kept this. Some say it’s the mad ramblings of a scorned witch. Others call it precious. Something told me I was meant to hold onto it…and now I know why.”