Oriana Nesbitt kept a Tarot deck next to her pillow when she slept. She didn’t have any crystals or salt, nor protective oils, just the deck. It sat in the dark without even a touch of moonlight next to her head, loose, no cloth bag or wrap of silk to appease it. The night the issue started, The Moon card was at the top of the deck. She’d had a date that went well earlier that evening, and dreamt of the man. His name was Daemyn, and he’d been the pinnacle of gentleman during their restaurant outing. He’d even brought roses.

The dream began under a half-moon, and the restaurant’s windows made prisms of rainbow light on the floors. There were no other lights except those of the sky. Daemyn sat in the chair across from Oriana as he had earlier that evening, and his face was a sculpture of shadow. He said nothing. There was wine on the table, and he sipped. His fingers curled around the glass looked pale in comparison to real life, and there was a sound, a ringing, as he drank.

Oriana didn’t know what to say. It seemed Daemyn was looking past her, though she couldn’t see his eyes. Behind her, she heard a door open. It creaked on rusty hinges, sounding like wood even though in the real world, the entrance had been made of glass.

When Oriana turned, intent on seeing what Daemyn had his attention fixed on, there was nothing there. Nothing but the open door. The moon was gone, and in its place was a starless sky. Clouds thundered with whiskers of lightening, a precursor to what Daemyn said next.

“I don’t want you.”

Oriana turned around. His face was fully illuminated, and he wore a smile like a salesman.

“I only want the chase,” he said.

Then the dream ended. Next to her head, The Moon card had flipped off the top of the deck and was staring up at her. Both canines on the card, a wolf and a dog, seemed to have their fur ruffled. It made Oriana feel embarrassed. She swept up the card and replaced it at the top of the deck, then went about the rest of her day.

She got five texts from Daemyn, and everything seemed normal. She texted back apprehensively, but nothing ill ever came of it. In fact, they set up their next date: a movie.

It was a horror flick, which both of them agreed on because neither enjoyed romance. The choice of genre delighted Daemyn, and he paid for the popcorn, snacks, and tickets. On top of that, they had a wonderful time afterward discussing the director’s choices for the monsters, pacing, and jump scares. At the end of the night, Daemyn dropped Oriana off at home with a kiss and a snug hug, and Oriana closed the door feeling as though everything about her life had finally fit into the perfect container.

But then the doubt set in. Oriana paced around her house, analyzing every syllable of what was said during the date, looking for clues as to Daemyn’s true intentions. The dream loomed in her psyche, a shadow deep like his face had been in the dream, foreboding every nuance. So Oriana turned to her Tarot deck. Without casting any protection, no circle, no calling of the corners, nothing of the sort, she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, Tarot deck in hand, and began to shuffle.

In order to shuffle correctly, one must do it seven times in a riffle shuffle, to randomize the cards, then cut the deck in thirds to align the cosmic energy. Oriana simply shuffled a couple times hand over hand and pulled the card at the top of the deck, asking out loud what Daemyn’s true motivations were with her.

Two of Cups.

The Two of Cups is known as the relationship card. It’s a card of true love, of romantic and other emotional partnerships, and when upright indicates that everything is going well. An equal give and take, either in friendship or in romance. But the little white booklet that came with the deck, which Oriana had open on the floor before her, said only this about the card: partnerships.

“Partnerships?” Oriana flipped the page in the booklet. There was no other detail besides a tiny black and white picture of the card itself. “That’s it? What kind of partnerships?”

At that moment, with Oriana’s hand tilted just so, the top card fell off the top of the deck and landed inverted on the floor. She didn’t see it. It was the Hight Priestess.

She collected her cards and put them back on her bed, wondering what to make of the reading.

Another dream visited that night, featuring Daemyn. It began with a winding staircase unlike any Oriana had traversed while awake, going on and on and on, which ended at a single black door. The handle was red. She opened the door, her hand stinging at the touch of the knob, to find a room with only a bed. The bed had satin red sheets and Daemyn hunched under them in a position of obvious intercourse with somebody below him.

Oriana awoke suddenly but without a sense of alarm, which was surprising given the content of the dream. She inhaled, feeling the breath in her lungs, and turned over to face her Tarot deck. The cards were splayed face down, not stacked in a neat pile as they had been before she slept, and in the center of the pile was The Devil card, face up. Oddly, she wasn’t fearful of the card. She felt it was trying to tell her something. So she reorganized the deck into its neat little pile, turned on a light, and consulted the little white booklet. All it said under the entry for The Devil was: evil.

She looked at the card itself. At its center was a man with the head and legs of a beast, an inverted pentagram about its forehead, bat wings stretching out from its back. Horns. To either side was a man and a woman, respectively, both naked with tinier horns on their heads, and both loosely chained to the throne on which the central figure sat. The star on the forehead and the looseness of the chains stood out to Oriana, but she couldn’t discern why. On the cusp of her hearing, she heard a faint whisper, so soft as to be indetectable to the naked ear but loud enough to not be her imagination. She couldn’t make out the words, only the intention, and the intention was to warn her. Though of what, she couldn’t be sure.

She put the card back in the deck and went back to bed. Sleep came easily, but for the rest of that night she had no more dreams. In the morning, the deck was stacked as she’d left it, neatly.

The next date they had together was at an art museum. It was a medium-sized venue, painted all white to display the art more vibrantly, and she and Daemyn walked the wandering halls arm in arm. Oriana was tense. She couldn’t forget the dream of him being on top of someone.

“What’s wrong?” asked Daemyn.

“Hmm? Nothing. Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Don’t worry about it. Um. How… I mean, why…”

“Spit it out, you goof.”

“Why do you like me?”

Daemyn stopped short.

“I mean.” Oriana pulled her arm out of his. A large painting, larger than either of them, of splattered, mixed paint loomed behind them. It was mostly blue and red. “It just doesn’t make sense for you to be so nice to me.”

“Yes it does. Why wouldn’t I be? I love you, Oriana.”

Oriana balked. Wasn’t this too soon? They’d only been on a couple dates, after all. This was red flag material if ever she’d witnessed it.

“Look,” said Daemyn. “Life’s short. I like you. I thought you liked me. I’m man enough to know when I’m falling for someone. We like a lot of the same things too. It’s turning out perfect so far. Why not just roll with it?”

That night, Oriana consulted her cards. She closed her eyes when she shuffled, not focusing on any question except the rising sense of anxiety in her chest and what it might mean, the flutter of the air as it jittered down her throat into her lungs, the way her heart beat unevenly, at times too fast and at others too slow, and the name Daemyn, Daemyn, Daemyn. Then, with one deep, unexpected yogic breath, Oriana stopped shuffling. It was as if she and her surroundings had before been off-kilter and now were in total balance. She was in the exact right place at the exact right time, and there in that blissful pause was her answer.

She flipped over the top card. It was The Lovers. Putting that face-up on the carpet, she instinctively drew the next card. It was The Moon.

The reading was over. She knew it the way she knew how to breathe. The reading was over.

The cards sat plainly.

She flipped through her little white booklet. The Lovers: a lover. The Moon: secrets.

Little white booklet pinched in her fingers, Oriana stared past it at the cards.

“A secret lover?”

Her gaze fell on the domesticated dog on the card. It stayed there. She didn’t know why. Dogs made her think of loyalty and friendship, and these concepts lingered in her mind as long as she stared at the little dog. It was howling at the moon. Its tail was upright, might be wagging. Happiness. The howl too, was another clue. For Oriana, it made her think of companionship, always knowing one howl would be answered by another. Energized serenity, an emotion Oriana had never before felt, swelled from her core outward until she was enveloped in it. The phantom sound of a howl cleared her mind of all else, and the tune of it moved throughout her whole body until it matched the envelopment of that serene, energized knowing. This was more than loyalty. This was dedication rooted in the understanding that the whole pack would always be together, no matter how small or large it was, no matter the distance between each member.

This confused Oriana. The definition of secrets from the little white booklet and her impressions didn’t match.

Hesitantly, she put her deck away. In bed, she pondered.

The bed in the dream had different sheets than her own. Silken, red, rippling under her touch, Oriana found herself naked upon them, luxuriating in the smoothness that caressed her skin. Compelled by an impulse she didn’t understand, she rose and left the room. At the doorway, she glanced back. It wasn’t her room. It was larger and less furnished, the bed being the centerpiece. No mess or clothes on the white-carpeted floor, no large standing mirror. An open window let in the cool nightly air. Stars hung like nooses beyond the sill.

She stood there, naked and alone.

Her heart beat with a hollow distortion.

Then Daemyn was entering the room, moving past her. A figure in shadow sprawled backward on the bed. Oriana couldn’t see any details beyond that it was female in shape and had its legs open, ready.

Daemyn accepted the offer with vigor and laughter, and Oriana stood in that frame of the doorway an outsider, unnoticed. She covered herself with her hands as best she could, wracked by sudden shame. They on the bed moved faster, throbbing and twisting in ecstasy, their moans a song of joy. When they climaxed, Oriana screamed.

It was an anguished scream, not one of terror, but nonetheless it was answered.

A woman appeared before Oriana, her hair an absurdly long blonde curtain that billowed, her pale skin a contrast to the mess of fleshy grotesque scarring that was her neck. She had eyes like mirrors and bowed upon entering the scene.

“I am Akki,” she said. “Slayer of Nightmares.”

“Oh,” said Oriana. She didn’t know what else to say, but the fact she’d screamed and someone showed up, unlike all the other times in her life, felt novel. She didn’t know what to do with it. “Um. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Akki turned around. “Ah. He’s an interest of yours, I take it?”

“Yes.”

Akki tilted her head. She crossed her arms. There was a sword at her side, belted to her snug, moveable clothing. The designs of both were not of the human world, a graceful intricacy seldom found.

Oriana had the urge to shove her forward. To make her do something about this. But Oriana was also too meek to act on it. She stood there and fidgeted.

Akki didn’t advance.

Oriana waited while heat swelled in her chest. Adrenaline and anger mixed with shame.

“What scares you about this?” Akki turned back around to face Oriana.

“That should be obvious!”

Akki made a contemplative noise. Her arms remained crossed. On her, it was a pensive pose.

“I can just tell it’s going to happen soon,” said Oriana. “And I don’t want it to.”

“Why not?”

“Why not!”

Akki tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, her expression twitched towards amusement.

“It’s a betrayal,” said Oriana. “That’s why!”

Akki glanced over her left shoulder. Daemyn and the female figure were still going at it. They’d begun again after the first climax, slowly at first and now gaining speed. Their noise escalated, but in the dream it took on the essence of a background sound. Akki’s words were far louder. Closer. “You’re misunderstanding. What is it you see?”

Then Oriana woke up. A frown pulled on her face. “Misunderstanding what?”

The clock on her nightstand read 3:33 AM.

She didn’t want to go back to sleep.

She grabbed her Tarot cards.

No matter how many times or in how many ways she shuffled, she only pulled The Moon inverted.

Her little white booklet didn’t have the meanings for when the cards show up upside down. When staring at the card provided no insight, she went back to bed.

The next morning, she met up with Daemyn, and he brought her coffee. It was her favorite blend, and she had no idea how he’d learned what that was.

“Lucky guess,” he explained.

“A good one,” said Oriana, breathing in the steam. She took a sip. Perfect, especially after a crap night’s sleep. Her mind spiraled to the dream, the Tarot.

“You okay?” Daemyn sipped his drink, his hair mussed in that attractively lazy way, his eyes searching hers.

“I had a dream last night. About us.”

“Oh yeah?” A smile showed behind the lip of the cup. His eyebrows waggled. “Tell me more.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

He choked on his beverage.

“Sorry,” said Oriana. “Sorry, I shouldn’t accuse.”

“The fuck is this coming from?”

“Nothing. Sorry. The dream really bothered me.” She didn’t tell him that she’d sometimes had dreams that came true, or that she’d done a reading to interpret it. In fact, she kept her divinatory interests private on purpose. She didn’t want people thinking she was crazy. “It was a nightmare.”

“Nightmares aren’t real,” he said with fervor. “And I’d never cheat on you.”

His tone was absolute, no allowances for doubt or argument.

They finished their drinks in silence.

Her next Tarot reading involved the deck once again throwing The Moon inverted at her. When she tried to clarify what that meant, leaving the card on the floor while she shuffled to find another, the Seven of Cups appeared. She consulted the little white booklet, finding only that The Moon still meant secrets and that the Seven of Cups meant options.

“Secret options,” she said to herself, trying to remember what her question had been. She’d been thinking about Daemyn and her roundabout accusation. “Maybe he’s considering other options? Besides me?” Contemplating the cards, she felt very confused. It was as if the Seven of Cups amplified the feeling, but even with that amplification she didn’t know from where the confusion had originally sprung. The way she’d laid out the spread, the silhouette of the man in the Seven of Cups had his back to her and The Moon card. To Oriana, it looked like he was seeking elsewhere, and she couldn’t keep herself from spiraling back into the mindset that Daemyn resembled the silhouette. Even so, a magnetic sensation kept pulling her attention back to The Moon inverted. Her gaze lingered there. The imagery of the moon itself on the card was hypnotic, fixed, and she could almost hear the illustrated waves splashing against the river shore.

She heard her own voice in her ear, clear as if she’d spoken out loud to herself, except she hadn’t.

“Fixation makes stagnant waters.”

She had no idea what that meant.

She was spooked. She put her cards away.

In the middle of the night, she called Daemyn. He answered on the first ring.

“You seriously weren’t lying when you told me you’d never cheat?” asked Oriana.

“I seriously wasn’t lying.”

“But you’ve got options around you. Besides me.”

“Where are you getting this?”

“I just know, okay. I can’t explain it.”

“Oriana, you’re acting paranoid. There’s no one else.”

“But I know it. I know there’s someone else!”

“No you don’t. You had a dream, that’s it. A dream is a dream is a dream. Nothing more to it than your brain rearranging itself. Did you have another one? Is that why you’re calling me at his ungodly hour?”

“No, I didn’t have another one.”

“Then what brought this on? I don’t know what I’m doing to convince you I’m so unfaithful.”

Confusion is accurate, said Oriana’s mindvoice, abruptly and without invitation.

“Are you going to clue me in or not?” said Daemyn.

“I can’t tell you how I know. I just know.”

“Then we have a problem. I’m not going to let you jerk me around like this. I like you, Oriana. Maybe even love you. Or I thought I did. Now you’re freaking me out and it’s unfair.”

“I’m psychic,” Oriana blurted.

The pause contained only a sigh.

Oriana wanted to wrangle those words back into her mouth. She’d never openly admitted anything of the sort to anyone before.

“So let me get this straight,” said Daemyn. “You’re psychic, and you just know that I’m some douche who would cheat on you? I got this right?”

Oriana couldn’t get herself to speak. All that came out of her mouth were squeaks.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” said Daemyn. His tone became wistful, forlorn. “I really thought you were the one.”

“Daemyn,” said Oriana, but she couldn’t get herself to say any more. Pleading begged to be let loose off her tongue. It was conquered by shame.

“No.” Daemyn exhaled sharply. “I’m done. I’m not putting up with this bullshit. For the record, I’ve been faithful, never cheated a goddamn day in my life on anyone, including you. Anything you just know about me is baseless. Goodbye.”

He hung up.

No one had ever hung up on Oriana before. She cried.

In her dream, she saw the feminine form beneath Daemyn. Akki was also there. As Daemyn and the woman reached crescendo, Akki led Oriana to the side of the bed. She had to yank. Oriana didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see the details of the act. She even closed her eyes, which did absolutely nothing in the dream to cloud her vision. She saw them pulsating, embracing, kissing intertwined. She wanted nothing to do with it. But her sight wouldn’t quit.

“Look past him,” said Akki. “Look who he’s with.”

“It doesn’t matter who he’s with,” said Oriana. “It’s over.”

The woman moaned. It sounded familiar to Oriana, which made the whole thing more disgusting, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it.

“Really look,” said Akki. “You won’t be confused anymore.”

“Confusion isn’t the problem.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter if I know the culprit now. I can’t prevent it from happening.”

“If you look closer, you might not want to prevent it.”

Oriana wanted to throttle her.

“Please,” said Akki, and moved aside.

Oriana hated this dream. She wanted it to end. She thought maybe if she humored Akki, it would. So Oriana looked.

Beneath Daemyn was another Oriana, thoroughly enjoying herself. No wonder she’d recognized the moan. The difference was in real life she’d only ever expressed it with herself. But not here. Here Daemyn was tending to every part of her. He was gentle and graceful and powerful. He caressed as much as he pinned. He was slow and sensual after every bout of thrusts. He both fucked and made love.

The Oriana watching fell to her knees. Level with the other her’s face, she saw the joy there, the release. The slowly delivered, satisfied sigh. Daemyn’s gruff exhalation was music.

“I could’ve had this,” said Oriana. “But I ruined it.”

Akki knelt by her. She put a hand on Oriana’s shoulder.

“God.” Oriana’s voice broke and turned into a desperate whine. “He loved me. He really really loved me. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You were misled.”

“By what? My Tarot?”

“Your fixation.”

“Stagnant waters,” mused Oriana. “What’s it mean to make stagnant waters?”

“It generally means they turn toxic.”

“So I was so fixated on what he might be doing I ruined this for myself.”

Akki squeezed her shoulder.

“How do I fix it?” asked Oriana.

“I imagine communicating would help,” said Akki.

“I think I ruined that too.”

“Apologies.” Akki rose and bowed at the waist to Oriana. “If it’s beyond redemption in the waking world, then this is beyond me.”

Oriana frowned.

“However.” Akki straightened back up. “It’s not beyond you.”

“You think I could make it work? Make him listen?”

“I think if you love him, it’d be wise to try.”

A morning dawn lit upon Oriana’s face. She remembered she’d left the blinds open. Without transition, she was awake on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. No more dream. No more Akki. No more hope except that Daemyn would hear her out, one last time.

She called his number and listened to the end of the line ring.