Great. As if there wasn’t already enough riding on this decision, now it will also be about choosing between Lily-Anwar and Cleo. Looking at them all, I curl a thick strand of hair between my thumb and forefinger, nerves jangling all the way through me. But then, suddenly, I force my hand away and make a decision. If I can’t fight the adrenaline, then I might as well use it.

Because if anyone is equipped to interpret or channel Perilli’s deck, it’s me.

Where do you find life’s most important wisdom?

Strapping Cleo’s backpack on and clutching both the scroll and my phone’s flashlight, I make my first choice.

I open the door.

Click here

I open the door.

Click here

I walk through this first door and it closes behind me with a heavy thud. I don’t check the knob to see if it has locked, because if I am trapped in here, I don’t particularly want to know. Instead, I raise my phone’s flashlight and find myself facing a narrow hallway. My breath catches in my throat—small spaces aren’t my favorite. The darkness doesn’t help, pressing in thickly all around me. Still, I step forward, because I already decided my anxiety has to charge me forward, not hold me back.

The hallway soon opens into a new room, which has another set of doors on its far wall. I move to examine these doors, but as I walk farther inside, I suddenly notice this room’s ceiling is covered with glow-in-the-dark stickers. Pinkish fiery suns and yellowish lightning bolts create a shining sky of faded stars. I pause to take them in and quickly realize they’re shaped like…

A tower.

The floorboards creak loudly as I rock back and forth on my feet, absorbing the blurred image above me. I wonder when was the last time anyone looked at these shapes—and who were they really intended for?

Letting these questions roll away, I illuminate the symbols on Door Two, then I find the corresponding prompt on the scroll: In what force should you trust? Finally, I look up their Major Arcana meanings on the scroll’s codex.

I open the door.

Click here

I open the door.

Click here

I walk through this first door and it closes behind me with a startling quickness, like it’s spring loaded—which it very well might be. After all, once you enter a maze, you shouldn’t be able to go backward.

Holding up my phone’s flashlight, I quickly find this room is filled with a large tent—one I’m going to have to move through. Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I really wish I didn’t have to do this in the semidarkness. Still, I reach for the zipper to open the tent’s entrance. I already decided my anxiety has to charge me forward, not hold me back.