Зима тревоги нашей

           ThenIsawstrangecards—disturbingcards—atowerrivenbylightning,awheeloffortune,amanhangingbyhisfeetfromagallows,calledlependu,andDeath—lamort,askeletonwithascythe.

           "Kindofgloomy,"Isaid."Dothepicturesmeanwhattheyseemto?"

           "It’showtheyfallinrelation.Iftheyfallupsidedowntheyreversetheirmeaning."

           "Isthereavariationinmeaning?"

           "Yes.That’stheinterpretation."

           ThemomentshehadthecardsMargiebecameformal.UnderthelightsherhandsshowedwhatIhadseenbefore,thatshewasolderthanshelooked.

           "Wheredidyoulearnit?"Iasked.

           "IusedtowatchmygrandmotherandlaterItookitupasatrickforparties—Isupposeawayofgettingattention."

           "Doyoubelieveinit?"

           "Idon’tknow.Sometimesremarkablethingscomeout.Idon’tknow."

           "Couldthecardsbeaconcentrationritual—psychicexercise?"

           "SometimesIthinkthat’strue.WhenIfindIgiveavaluetoacarditdidn’thavebefore,that’swhenitisusuallyaccurate."Herhandswerelikelivingthingsastheyshuffledandcutandshuffledandcutagainandpassedthemtometocut.

           "WhoamIdoing?"

           "ReadEthan,"Marycried."Seeifitmatchesyesterday’s."

           Margielookedatme."Lighthair,"shesaid,"blueeyes.Areyouunderforty?"

           "Just."

           "Thekingofbatons."Shefounditinthedeck."Thisisyou"—apictureofacrownedandrobedkingholdingahugeredandbluescepterandRoideBâtonprintedunderhim.