“That right there is a genuine Carson Perilli tarot,” Maggie begins, once settled. “He only made a handful of decks in his lifetime, each one unique. And he only gifted them to people he deemed very special.”

“Who was this Perilli person?” I ask, still grasping Amelia’s hand. I feel an electric hum begin to charge my veins, sparking something new. I can only imagine how Amelia must feel. Maybe we somehow are that lucky, at least today?

Then I remind myself what Logan would say, that luck is only the surface awareness of a person meeting their purpose. Either way, Maggie now has my undivided attention.

“Carson Perilli was a respected artist and an even more respected spiritual leader, at least in certain Californian circles,” Maggie explains. “He never reached mainstream popularity, nor was he interested in doing so. But he did amass a rather… occult following.”

“And he made this deck?” I ask. “How do you know?”

“Well, I must admit, I’m a bit of a Perillian myself. All of his decks have been accounted for since his passing. All except his final work, that is.”

Maggie’s eyes flick down to our deck for just a second, but it’s enough for me to clock the pang of collector’s lust he tries to mask.

“If I’m right, then that deck is missing four cards,” Maggie says. “The Prince of Wands. The Princess of Cups. The King of Pentacles. The Queen of Swords.”

“That’s… that’s absolutely right.”

I don’t stop Amelia from answering this time, because even I’m surprised.

“Perilli always withheld the same four cards from every deck he made,” Maggie continues. “He hid each one in a treasured place and peppered unique clues to find these hidden cards in his artwork. The only way to uncover the missing cards is to use the signs in the corresponding deck.”

A sense of awe ripples over me. That’s eccentric, at best, but also maybe… deeply cool?

“So, this dude made personalized tarot scavenger hunts?” Cleo jumps in. “Uh, that’s a little much.”

“Genius always looks like foolishness to the uninitiated,” Maggie says, his chin raised. “But you can imagine the kind of enthusiasm this practice garnered among his followers. All of Perilli’s decks have long been accounted for and the missing cards have been found. Again, all except one last, lost set.”

A pulse of realization snaps across the room. As we begin to understand, the energy suddenly shifts.

“The masterpiece you hold in your hands is quite valuable, to the right eye,” Maggie says. “I’d be happy to buy it from you.”

“It’s not for sale,” Amelia says automatically. “To us, it’s invaluable.”