The Tens Vanessa Jones (historical books to read TXT) 📖

'Abigail is being punished. As she should be,' Everley rolled her eyes.

'Punished for what?'

'You saw that pitiful display last night. She's barely one of us. Show me your arm.' Everley cuffed Sophie's wrist with her thumb and forefinger and slid it towards her. 'Well. That has cleared up astoundingly well, wouldn't you say so? No pain, I'm assuming.' She cocked an eyebrow at Sophie.

'No pain,' she said reluctantly.

Everley went and collected Clive to show him her handiwork and together they inspected the small remnants of the burn. 'Now, Sophie, you simply must forgive me for my actions. It may have seemed cruel, I know, but it was a necessary part of a bigger picture. Of a test that we all must go through. You especially,' Clive stretched his trademark smile at her.

Sophie spat in his face. Nonchalantly, he wiped his face and continued to smile. 'Has it not healed spectacularly? We needed to do this Sophie. It's part of a process.'

'What process? Keeping me here, drugging me and burning me is not some process. It's a series of crimes that you need to wake up from your delusion about and get me the fuck out of here.'

'Oh contraire, Sophie. You trespassed on private property, quite inebriated one might add, and must have somehow fallen into an open fire stumbling around. You're lucky you didn't get mistaken for a wild animal that could be shot.' And through all the smiles, the warmth and the welcoming act that Clive had been committed to since Sophie met him, his poisonous insides mushroomed.

Despite his stuck grin, Sophie could see the flecks of gold in his eyes were never there, they were flecks of snake scales. With all her reserves, Sophie reigned herself in and set her face serenely as possible. 'Look, I'm really not interested in getting you in trouble. I'm just looking for my husband. You have my word that if you take me home, I'll never utter a word of this place to anyone. Least not the police.' Sophie pressed her lips together and nodded, in what she hoped was an earnest display of truth. He laughed venomously and left her alone in her tent.

A short time later, amid Sophie’s pangs of hunger and as her head whirred over what had happened, Clive shuffled inside the tent and looked at Sophie sheepishly. He hung his head, grasping one wrist with his other hand and wiped the top of his bare foot with the other in nervousness. 'Listen Soph, our angel, I want to apologise. I haven't been acting right towards you. I've meditated over it and I came to see that I was letting my worry about you and distress over your own anguish come out as anger, as pettiness. I want you to know that I've atoned and I will no longer be treating you this way. You don't deserve it and it really has nothing to do with you. I especially want you to know that you are most welcome here. I hope you'll forgive me.' He hung his head even lower waiting for a response.

'What is this atoning that you have done?' The power had shifted and Sophie felt like she was about to gain back some control.

'The punishment is decided by the Tarot. I was dealt the ten of cups so I drank ten cups of copper water.'

'Excuse me, the Tarot? As in playing cards? They decide how you make up for something? How does a little bit of cardboard dictate how you make up for poisoning and burning someone?'

'I know it may sound absurd to a newcomer but we have much trust in mystical ways and the Tarot does not let us down. If you see that there's a better fitting punishment for the way I have treated you I will accept it now.'

Sophie scanned her mind for something to torture him with. Surely, she could summon something better than a pack of cards could. 'Simple. Let me go.'

'That is out of my control. A more personal punishment, perhaps?'

'Curious, what would happen if you drew a pentacles card?'

'Give away my money.'

'I see. And wands?'

'A spell would be cast upon me.' Clive looked worried.

'Swords?'

'Stabbed,' he mumbled at her.

'I'd say you got off lightly then, didn't you?' Sophie was relishing in the new change of power dynamic. Did she have it in her to order him to be stabbed? Would she have to do the stabbing? Could she?

Sophie watched as Clive's legs wobbled and he crumpled to his knees.

'Please. Do not humiliate me any further. You think I am not humiliated enough living an existence that is unconventional? You think I don't feel like an idiot standing up in front of people and channelling a voice from another planet? On paper that's textbook lunacy. You think I didn't want for a life where I was happy being an accountant in my one-bedroom home, saving most of my wage for children that I would never have? Well, strangely I did. I was oddly content. And many parts of me still wish to this day that I could go back to that life now and be just as content. I did not choose to follow this path and accept these beliefs; they were part of my DNA before I was ever born and fighting them are futile.

No one, outside of this group, applauds you for following the unbeaten track. The rewards that we flog ourselves for daily are not seen in our everyday lives. We do not have yearly family vacations to celebrate all our hard work. Our rewards come at the end. Perhaps near, although we have no real way of knowing, outside of gut feelings and our faith. If you seek to humiliate me then please know that it has already been done enough for three lifetimes and your efforts will be in vain.'

Sophie could tell that he was right. Not knowing