“Cut the deck into three piles, then feel which belongs on top, which belongs in the middle, and which belongs on the bottom, and reconstruct the deck based on that.”

I followed the psychic’s instructions, cutting the deck three ways, then hesitated. Holding my hand over them for a brief moment, it felt like I was drawn to the leftmost pile. It was almost like I wasn’t actually making a choice myself, just letting my hand do what it knew needed to be done; something magnetic drawing me to the cards. Left went over right, then the middle went on top of everything.

“In the Safe Passage spread, the first card is you—the Traveller.” Madam Calderu tapped the centre of the table. As she continued, she moved her hand, indicating the position where each card would be placed as she spoke. “Next comes What is Missing… the reason for your quest. Here is the Path Behind: lessons learned, experiences gained. Here is the Path Ahead: a space for growth and discovery. Of course, you will face Obstacles, preceding a potential Windfall. You must overcome all to reach your Destination. Any questions before we begin?”

Nat and I exchanged a quick glance, then I shook my head. “No.”

Madam Calderu gave me a serious look, locking eyes with me. “Now, Wanda, I want you to hold your question in your mind. Push everything else away. Focus on the question.” I nodded and she reached over, spreading the cards in an even arc with a single, practiced motion. She withdrew her hand, keeping her eyes focused on me. “Pick a card.”

This was nerve-wracking.

I reached toward the cards, but there was no immediate magnetism like there had been with the cutting of the deck. My hand swept over the arc indecisively for a moment, then I blinked. Had one of the cards just twitched? It might have just been my imagination, but I could have sworn that one had just actually physically moved, maybe only a millimetre, but enough to draw my attention to it. I took a deep breath, then picked up the card that I thought had moved and offered it to Madam Calderu.

She did her best to supress a reaction, but her eyes still widened fractionally as she saw the card. “The Ten of Swords,” she intoned quietly. Her eyes flicked up to me. “You are… the Lord of Ruin.” As she said the words, she placed the chosen card in its position in the centre of the table.

She’d told us that the artwork was significant and I felt like the visual on the Ten of Swords was pretty strikingly clear: A man lying facedown, dead, with the titular swords driven into his back. There was a stillness to it—a dead man under black clouds, calm waters in the background. It felt… ominous. Grim.

“The Traveller tells us about who you are and what you’re bringing to the situation. Your core attributes. Swords is the suit of air and deals with the mind—your thoughts, decisions and mental state. The Ten of Swords is… well. It’s typically read as a bloody and harsh ending. Your worst-case scenario.” The psychic’s brow furrowed, a touch of sympathy in her expression as she looked at me. “Many people would say it’s the worst card in the deck.”

“Oh. Good,” I said. The knot in my stomach was back.

“It suggests a painful ending, deep wounds or betrayal, with a strong underlying sense of unfairness. As a person, it tends to signify a victim or a martyr.” She pointed to the card to indicate the artwork. “Stabbed in the back and left to die alone on the beach, the sun setting for the last time on their life. The whole world is against you and everything that can go wrong has gone—or will go—wrong. It is the lowest anyone can get and the only way out is up. This is the card of someone who is a victim or, potentially, someone who thinks that they’re the victim, regardless of the truth of a situation.”

I let out a small, awkward laugh. “What the fuck?” One of my legs was bouncing nervously under the table. Natasha reached over and put her hand on my knee, pressing firmly to stop the motion. “I’m feeling very personally attacked right now.”

Madam Calderu gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve always felt there’s an element of melodrama to the Ten of Swords—one sword is enough to kill, after all. Ten is beyond excessive.”

“Melodramatic? You?” Nat squeezed my knee lightly. “Maybe there’s something to this, after all.”

“Hey,” I protested.

The psychic fiddled with her rings again, thoughtfully gazing down at the card for a moment. “To me, this card feels like an acknowledgement,” she said. “You’ve endured much—perhaps more than any one person should. Trauma that still remains unresolved. Your struggles are recognised.”

I nodded slowly. That made sense.

“As I said before, the rest of the reading will provide context. Choose your next card—What is Missing?”

I repeated the motion from before, concentrating on my question as I swept my hand over the cards. This time, one of them definitely moved, visibly jerking itself out of the arc by almost a full centimetre. Huh. Okay. I’d thought it might have been my imagination when the two cards that had fallen out of the deck felt like they’d moved, but there was clearly something happening. Whether Tarot was a real thing in this universe or not, my magic was definitely influencing things—cards didn’t just jump out on their own. Chaos magic altered reality, after all, and I really wasn’t clear on what its real capabilities or limitations were. There wasn’t any telltale flicker of red but, then again, I knew that my magic was capable of manifesting relatively invisibly, especially when I wasn’t consciously controlling it.

Madam Calderu’s expression was unreadable—she had to have noticed the movement, but didn’t react to it at all. I picked up the indicated card, held it out to her, and she placed it in its position below the first as she intoned its name. “The Ten of Cups.”

The artwork on the card felt like almost the exact tonal opposite of the last one; a bright, sunny scene, two people—husband and wife?—with arms upraised in triumph, with their children playing at their side, all beneath a shining rainbow.

“Joy. Happiness. Triumph,” Madam Calderu said, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a smile as she looked back up at me. “The card represents what’s at stake—what you seek, the reason for your quest—and the Ten of Cups is the happily-ever-after of the Tarot. It shows true love, harmony and blissful relationships. It is the card of peace and plenty. Everything that you ever wanted is potentially within your grasp.”

I felt some more of the tension leave my body and smiled back at the psychic, eyes flicking over toward Natasha for an instant. Finally, something good. I could have everything I ever wanted, huh?

“Two tens together indicates a great distance or long journey ahead,” she continued, gazing down at the cards. “You have a long way to travel if you ever have a hope to find your Ten of Cups. This could be metaphorical or literal. Travelling the world, visiting another country.”

Or another planet. I’d always been pretty sure I’d need to leave Earth for a while… I’d much rather take the fight to Thanos, rather than waiting for him to attack us on his terms.

“It’s interesting, contrasted against the Traveller card. Swords and Cups can be seen as diametrically opposed. Intellect versus emotion. A Swords person has great difficulty understanding a Cups person and vice versa… it may be that you don’t fully understand what your happily-ever-after would look like yet.” The psychic nodded to herself, then looked back up at me. “Pick another. This is the Path Behind; what has brought you to this point.”

Again, I swept my hand over the cards and, again, one popped out of its own volition as my hand passed over it. I picked it up and handed it to her—as she turned it over, I noticed it was upside-down compared to the other cards. She didn’t correct it as she placed it in the eight o’clock position. A knight in shining armour, charging on horseback, sword raised above their head and mouth open in a wordless shout of challenge.

“The Knight of Swords, reversed,” Madam Calderu said. “The Bringer of War. Court cards almost always represent specific people, and knights are those of action. Someone on a mission—once the knight has their mind set on something, nothing is stopping them. Given that this shares a suit with the card that represents you as the Traveller, I would link them and say this also represents you.”

“That’s me alright. Wanda Maximoff: Woman of Action,” I joked.

“When upright, the Knight of Swords is assertive and ambitious, a person who acts and thinks quickly. A saviour riding in on a white horse, rushing to save the day. Reversed, however… Reversed, they’re unfocused, reckless and impulsive, given to acting without thinking or planning. Tactless, undiplomatic, impatient and sometimes given to force. They act on their own, often without considering others.”

“Okay, jeez,” I said, wincing and side-eyeing Natasha, who was trying and failing not to smile. Nat’s hand was still on my knee and I slapped it gently to admonish her, letting my hand linger atop hers. “Feeling really personally attacked again.”

The psychic gave me another small, sympathetic smile and shrugged her shoulders. “It also suggests someone who’s at risk of severe burnout or exhaustion.”

“I’ve been taking it easy lately,” I protested, a little half-heartedly. “Things were rough for a while there, but since… uh, San Francisco, I’ve been mostly taking a bit of a break.”

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“Well, it seems like it might be well needed,” Madam Calderu noted, gesturing toward the Ten of Swords in the centre of the spread again for emphasis. “Next, the Path Ahead. Pick another card.”

This time, as I passed my hand over the arc, the card that jumped forward nearly left the arc completely, three-quarters of its length jutting out from the others, as though it were eager to join the reading. The flames of the candles surrounding us flickered slightly. Madam Calderu turned her head a little to glance around the room for a moment, but still didn’t say anything. Even though she knew who we were and that I had powers, I normally would have expected more of a reaction, but she was handling it like a pro. She seemed utterly calm and collected, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary for her.

I picked up the card and handed it to her. She placed it on the table at the four o’clock position. The art on the card showed a man with what looked like a crown on his head—a king, then?—sitting with a town or city in the background. Cradled oddly in his arms was a golden coin, inscribed with a pentagram. Another coin sat atop his head, with two more tucked beneath his feet.

“The Four of Coins. The Coins suit is concerned primarily with the material. The physical. This is a card of possessiveness or greed… it is associated with the hoarding of resources and earthy possessions, whether that’s food, wealth, property, or power, knowledge or skills. It indicates a need for control, security and stability, and the fear of loss. The resources gathered together by the Four of Coins are not shared or enjoyed; they are simply kept for the sake of keeping them, or to control them, or out of fear of losing them.”

Was she talking about the Infinity Stones? I reflexively reached up with my free hand and touched the pendant at my throat.

“Others want what you have,” Madam Calderu said. “Or will want it.”

Okay, yeah. Infinity Stones. But hoarding? I didn’t have any real desire to try collecting the Stones. The Mind Stone was mine. I felt really strongly about that, for some reason, even though it didn’t make a lot of sense. Though it was useful, I was mostly holding onto it so tightly to make sure it was kept safe from Thanos, or at least that was what I kept telling myself. Though, if I was honest, it was also because having it close by felt… comforting, somehow.

My only interest in the rest of the Stones, however, was in ensuring they stayed safe. The Time Stone was safe with the Ancient One. The Power and Space Stones were locked away safely for now, at least until Thanos made his move. The Soul Stone was outside my reach, locked behind a price I definitely wasn’t willing to pay. The Reality Stone was the only one with someone I wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

“Another,” the psychic instructed. “Obstacles—wounds suffered or challenges to face.”

I barely even raised my hand over the table this time before a card shot forward, thrusting itself out of the arc like an unappetising morsel being spat out by a grinning mouth. The table between us shivered, juddering slightly, and the candleflames flickered again in a phantom breeze. At the same time, Natasha took her hand off my knee and straightened, head on a swivel for a moment—looking around alertly—before her gaze settled on me and she shot me a questioning look.

“Uh, sorry,” I said, giving her a helpless shrug in return. “I’m not doing it on purpose.” I shot Madam Calderu apologetic look, but she sat there as implacably as ever, not at all disturbed by the display. “My powers can react to my emotions and stuff,” I explained. She didn’t say anything in response, simply holding out her hand expectantly, so I picked up the card and gave it to her.

“The card in this position speaks of challenges, past or future. If it’s a past event, it designates what pain you’ve had to go through to get to where you are. If it’s indicating a future event, it’s a warning sign.” She licked her lips, looking a bit nervous, as she placed it at the ten o’clock position. “The Hanged Man,” she declared.

A man suspended upside-down from his ankle, hanging from a T-shaped cross, a golden halo around his head. Something about his positioning—one leg free and tucked behind him, both hands folded behind him, the expression on his face—made it seem weirdly calm, like he was unconcerned with his predicament or maybe there by choice.

“Trials or sacrifice. New perspectives and seeing things from different angles. A period of stasis or surrender or meditation, perhaps even incarceration. The Hanged Man is Odin hanging himself on the World Tree and sacrificing his eye to receive wisdom and the knowledge of the runes, or Jesus nailed to the Cross for the redemption of all mankind; knowing and willing self-sacrifice. Tied to the Traveller—the Ten of Swords—and the Path Behind—the Knight of Swords—I see a painful sacrifice that exacts a heavy price. It’s possible that this could be averted with careful thought and planning, looking at things from all angles to reveal that which is unseen.”

I frowned. It might be representative of my time spent locked away in Wakanda? It didn’t feel like it fit perfectly, but that had been a willing incarceration, a sacrifice on my part, and ‘revealing that which is unseen’ strongly reminded me of Eliza’s use of Beck’s holographic illusion technology. “Could be past or future,” I mused. “Can’t say for certain. Fits something that happened a bit, but I wouldn’t really call it ‘a painful sacrifice that exacted a heavy price’.”

Nat touched me gently on the shoulder. “Do you mean HYDRA? Or what happened in Wakanda? You really weren’t happy in that cell. Pietro said you had a lot of nightmares.”

“I still get nightmares,” I admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “But that’s not a Wakanda thing. It’s just a me thing.” Natasha raised a good point, though—there was also my time with HYDRA. Pietro and I went there willingly, too. Then again, if this reading was meant to have some significance, I really didn’t feel like it would just be reiterating stuff that had already happened.

Her forehead creased and she put her arm around me, squeezing my shoulders gently in a one-armed, side-on hug. “We can talk about them later, if you want?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll help. It’s all… just the same stuff. The memories I talked about on Carol’s ship. Eliza sometimes, too.”

“Okay. But I’m here if you want to.”

With a grateful smile, I leaned into her for a moment before she let go and I turned back to Madam Calderu, who was waiting patiently, watching me with hooded eyes. “Another card. The Windfall. Gains to be had after you have faced your Obstacles.”

I barely started to move my hand and a card shot out on its own again. The candleflames around us whipped and guttered wildly, as though caught by heavy winds, and both the neon sign attached to the wall and the ordinary lightbulb overhead flickered and dimmed briefly. The card had slid almost to the actual position it would take in the spread. I hesitated a moment, exchanging a glance with Madam Calderu before picking it up and handing it to her.

She placed it in the spread properly. “The Two of Coins.” I looked at the art and blinked as the psychic continued to speak. “As a Windfall, this can mean a meeting of minds or new friendship. But with the Four of Coins in the Path Ahead, I would interpret this more as a gain of resources or wealth, perhaps even a doubling of what you have now. The figure in this card juggles two coins while struggling to find his own balance. This card lacks the stability that the Four of Coins craves and, being a lower number, may represent the cause of fear or greed in the Path Ahead.”

“Okay,” I said, glancing at Nat. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Natasha had leaned forward and was studying the artwork intently. “…I see it.” There was a note of apprehension in her tone. She’d just been playing along until now, but this felt like such an obvious, glaring visual link that not even she could dismiss it out of hand. The card depicted a man wearing a tall hat, dancing, waves and ships visible in the background. In each of his hands was a coin, the two objects linked by an infinity symbol.

A doubling of what I had now. A figure holding two small treasures, touched by infinity. It felt really obvious how that should be interpreted.

“Finally,” Madam Calderu said. “The Destination.”

I hesitated a moment, still weighing the Two of Coins in my head, but—without me moving at all—suddenly the candles surrounding us all guttered and went out, as if a sudden, sharp wind had extinguished them all at once. A card flew out of the arc, shooting off the side of the table as though someone had flicked it away. Reflexively, I raised a hand, glimmering wisps of power catching it in midair. Even Madam Calderu recoiled a little this time, pushing back from the table.

“Sorry,” I said, using a small flick of my fingers to draw the card back to the tabletop. It hovered over the middle of the spread, rotating slowly on its axis, red magic glimmering along the edges. “I, uh, don’t know which way up this one is meant to be.”

Madam Calderu stared at the floating card wordlessly for a few moments, the glint of my chaos magic reflecting in her eyes. After a brief moment of hesitation, she shook her head and spoke again. “It doesn’t matter. The Destination lies sideways, across the Traveller.” She reached over and plucked the card from the air, placing it in its position. I let my magic dissipate and looked at the art.

A man standing in front of a table, a coin, a cup, a sword and a staff lying before him. He held what looked like a candle above his head with one hand, burning at both ends, with his other hand pointed downward. An infinity symbol hovered over his head.

“The Magician,” the psychic intoned, holding both hands over the table and flexing her fingers, as if feeling out an invisible aura over the completed spread. “This is the card of power and magic, of imposing your will on reality to manifest your desires. The Magician is a master of their craft and of all of the elements of creation; they have all of the tools they need to accomplish everything they desire. But in this position, we cannot tell if the card is upright or reversed.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“The Magician reversed is a trickster or charlatan, someone who manipulates others to do their bidding. At its worst, it may signify dark magic and the corruption of power.” Madam Calderu looked at me, her expression serious. “The Magician can be a tricky, mercurial card at the best of times. Balanced horizontally here, it could turn either way. Given the Two and Four of Coins, seeking power for power’s sake is likely to turn matters toward a dark end. However, if the Knight of Swords is noble and the sacrifice of the Hanged Man pure, then the light may prevail.”

I swallowed nervously. Darkness and light, huh? I already knew what waited for me at the end of the dark path. My prophesised destiny as ruler or destroyer of the cosmos. But I already knew from experience that the prophecy wasn’t absolute, that it could be broken—I’d died with it unfulfilled in the original timeline, after all. I looked at the Ten of Cups… my happily-ever-after. It was right there, at the end of the journey. I could make it.

Suddenly, Madam Calderu blinked and straightened up, a slightly confused expression on her face as she first glanced down at the cards in front of her, then back up. When she looked again at me, however, she stiffened, her eyes widening. “It’s you,” she said, her voice a strangled whisper, low and hoarse. She looked terrified all of a sudden.

What the actual fuck? “What’s me?” I asked, confused.

She blinked again and her shoulders relaxed, her eyes unfocusing for a moment before a smile returned to her face and she continued on as if nothing had happened. “Did you have any other questions about the reading?”

“Uh… I don’t think so…” I glanced at Natasha—she looked a little confused as well, her brow furrowed. “What was that?” I asked.

“Hmm? What was what?” The psychic’s tone was absent, uncurious, and I wasn’t really sure how to respond to it. When I didn’t answer right away, she gave me a warm smile and started to tidy away the cards, packing them together and wrapping them in their cloth.

“Uh. You just…” I gestured vaguely with a hand. “You seemed… off, for a second there.”

“Did I?” The ghost of a frown passed across Madam Calderu’s momentarily, then she shrugged it off and stood up. “I hope you got what you needed from the reading.”

Nat and I exchanged a glance and stood up as well. “Uh, yeah. Thanks,” I said, a little awkwardly.

The three of us stood there for a few seconds before Madam Calderu looked at us askance. “Was there anything else I could do for you?”