“Found it!” Celeste said triumphantly. Her hand emerged clutching a small crushed velvet pouch the colour of ground turmeric. Immediately she began to tug at the drawstring.

Desdemona clamped her hand over Celeste’s. “That wasn’t our agreement. I said you could look.”

“But this is important! My feeling, remember? It was for all of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we need to do some things ‘cos we’re all in this; you, Mother, Father…others.”

Desdemona released her grip. “Which others?”

Celeste puckered her lips, which were conch-shell pink.

When no reply came Desdemona asked a second question: “What things do we need to do?”

“Wait. First!” Celeste moved to the great four-poster bed and began to shake the pouch violently. A shower of cards splayed across the bed. Desdemona stepped forward and looked upon the array of cards that covered the crisp duvet like vivid scales. Most of the cards were face down, showing only the uniform backing of a Flemish cross and lotus flowers. Some, however, had landed face up, creating a tapestry of celestial bodies, castle keeps, long-faced hermits, Queens, shadow beetles, coins, goblets of radiant wine.

“The one I need should be over…here,” Celeste explained, passing her hand above one particular patch of the bed. In figure eights she moved her arm, until it suddenly halted as though something unseen had grabbed her thin wrist. Celeste slapped the back of one of the cards and turned it over. “That’s it!”

The card’s face depicted a figure (whether male or female, Desdemona could not tell) lying face-down on a bed of pale earth. A maroon cloak draped the figure’s hips. Its head was turned to face a crepuscular sky. A battery of swords pinioned the body to the ground, having been plunged (wielded by whose hands, Desdemona did not wish to know) through limbs and trunk. Bright flags flapped from the handles of each sword, a different colour for each sword. The border of the card resembled brushed copper. The Latin words Decem Gladiorum. Ruina appeared in a thick black typeface.

Celeste snatched up the card and charged for the door.

“Wait! Where are you going with that?” cried Desdemona. She ran after her sister, but youth and determination allowed her to move with unnatural haste. “Celeste!” Her voice echoed through the empty foyer. Desdemona could see that the heavy double-doors of the house’s main entrance had been pulled open. She bounded down the final curve of the staircase.

The gap between the doors was too slight for her to pass through. As she pressed the doors further apart Desdemona marvelled at her sister’s strength.