On a medieval world called Wayan, where wondrous beings unravel their destiny through Tarot reading, a powerful sorceress commits a shocking act by abducting the queen’s young children and spiriting them away through enchanted portals. Their memories erased, the children grow up on Earth, oblivious to their heritage.

Now, after twenty-one years of searching, opposing magical forces are racing to lay claim to Andrew and Amy. In a race against time, the siblings must embark on a perilous journey to rediscover their past and save their birth mother, Queen Lillian, from the grip of a malevolent star.

A captivating tale of love and bravery, Tarot – Crossing Worlds explores the unbreakable bonds of family and the extraordinary lengths we are willing to go to for the ones we love.

Tarot – Crossing Worlds is available now, you can find out more and order your copy on:

Rachel Clarke’s Website | Publisher | Link Tree | Waterstones | Bookshop.org

Chapter One

Long Ago, There Lived…

When the last sunrays of the day kissed the grounds of Castle Wayan, fourteen-year-old Princess Maria hurried off the drawbridge into the medieval inner courtyard. Patches of copper-tinted hair stuck to her face as the girl’s unsettled chestnut eyes fixed upon the entrance ahead.

Catching a breath of the humid air, she wormed through the livestock and crowds of people too preoccupied to notice her. Reaching the other side, she glanced at the yard before slithering into the grandiose entrance hall where a commanding staircase stood.

The girl bounded up two steps at a time as sweat trickled down her brow. She arrived on the landing and meandered right, down a dimly lit hallway with painted tapestries hung from gold hooks on the walls. They showcased an eclectic mix of images detailing swords, cups, pentacles and wands in varying shapes, colours and sizes.

At the far end, she pushed open a door and scrambled into her bedchamber. Princess Maria winced as the door closed with a loud bang. How careless could she be? She knew her family would expect her presence at dinner shortly.

She shrugged off her mishap, picked up a couple of pillows from her bed and placed them delicately on the floor in front of the doorframe. The princess thought she should hide any movement from peering eyes as she bolted towards the fading light from the balcony.

Pulling the drapes shut, she immersed herself in darkness and raised her Tarot deck in the air. With a subtle swoosh, the wondrous cards came to life. Their dazzling, deep-red energy radiated out as Princess Maria nervously
shuffled them face down.

Underneath, the beautifully illustrated deck displayed an array of characters and objects with specific duties from Wayan’s royal court. The women, men and children of varying ages and ranks took centre stage against day
and night backdrops with symbols related to swords, cups, pentacles and wands. The princess breathed deeply as the Tarot cards continued to seep out budding energy.

Finally, she asked them when her mother and father would be murdered. “Please,” the princess strained under her breath, “tell me everything. I need to protect them.” But as the cards continued to conjure red magic, nothing
else happened apart from the girl’s growing frustration.

She wistfully removed the top card from the deck and turned it over. Her troubled eyes fixed on the upside-down image of a large wheel covered in pentacle symbols. It was the same card as last night, and the night before. She knew what it meant. A sinister change in circumstances was approaching. As her worries grew, the deep-red energy brewing inside her Tarot deck shot out. It whipped up a storm in the centre of the bedchamber and conjured a scene.

Shocked, the princess stepped forward, fighting back tears as she witnessed her severely wounded parents, Queen Anya and King Peter, lying on the cold stone floor in the inner courtyard of Castle Wayan. Covered in deep lacerations across their chest and stomach, blood seeped from their wounds, staining the ground.

Half a dozen armoured soldiers from the Tarot world, Naxthos, walked away from the injured rulers with their blood-drenched swords raised high. They stepped through a dazzling circular portal back to their homeworld.

Now completely alone, with no one from Wayan coming to their aid, Princess Maria’s parents held hands as they closed their eyes and died together. The princess didn’t know how much more she could take as she clung onto the vision for any clues that could help to prevent her parents passing.

A tap on the door diverted her attention. Shaking uncontrollably, Princess Maria instructed her Tarot deck to dispel the image, but they didn’t listen. Asking them again, the cards continued to disobey their owner over the sound of a slightly louder knock. “What are you playing at?” urged the princess, but before she could attempt to retrieve her Tarot cards floating in the air, a concerned voice flared up in the hallway.

“Maria!” called Queen Anya. “I know you’re in there. Those pillows don’t fool me.”

“Please,” whispered Princess Maria at her Tarot cards, “disband the scene.”

“Maria!” repeated Queen Anya.

“I’m fine!” strained Princess Maria.

“I’m coming in,” replied Queen Anya, sensing the unease in her daughter’s voice.

“Crap!” the girl muttered under her breath as the door was forced open. The Queen of Wayan strode in, her knee- high boots hitting the floor hard. The radiating red energy from her daughter’s Tarot cards struck the garnet jewels nestled in the queen’s crown. They glistened, as did the garnet embroidered on her velvet crimson waistcoat that hung loosely over Queen Anya’s dark, lightweight trousers.

Ready to pounce, the queen’s annoyance quickly subsided as her deep chestnut eyes cast a worried look upon the distraught princess. Drawing closer and taken aback by the future death of her husband and herself, Queen Anya fell hauntingly silent, deep in thought.

“Mother?” said Princess Maria softly. “Mother, are you okay?”

“Yes. It is you I’m concerned for.”

“Why? You’re the one in danger, not me.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

The distress and torment plaguing the girl were undeniable, and the queen decided to end it. She willed her majestic Tarot cards to conjure strands of fantastical red energy which branched out and set alight the floor-standing pillar candles around the outer edges of the bedchamber.

As the soft warmth consumed the space, her cards disbanded the image her daughter’s deck had cast. The queen stood in the centre of the room, staring hard at the girl, who avoided eye contact.

“This image you have witnessed may not be certain,” said Queen Anya.

“But…” Princess Maria said hurriedly, clutching her Tarot cards, paranoia brewing.

“No, Maria,” interrupted Queen Anya. “Look at you. You’ve lost all sense of reason.”

“You saw the image too,” replied Princess Maria, a little softer.

“Yes. It wasn’t hard to miss.”

“Then why are you so calm?”

“It’s not the image that concerns me; it’s where the scene came from, and that’s you.”

She stepped towards her daughter and gripped her tight. She encouraged her to meet her eyes and watched as tears poured down the girl’s cheeks.

“Please, hear me out,” said Queen Anya. Releasing her hold, the queen gestured for them both to sit on the sofa at the foot of the bed. Once comfortable, Queen Anya took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Your hunt for answers can feed into your Tarot readings,” explained Queen Anya. “The desire to know your destiny or someone else’s can be precarious.”

“Yes, I understand that.”

“Do you? Really? From what I just saw, dear daughter, you were falling down a rabbit hole.”

“I…” mumbled Princess Maria.

“You need to come to terms with seeking the truth for what it is. Not driven by your version of the truth,” stated Queen Anya, her voice firm.

“But what if the vision is true?”

“Well, the best place to start is to go back to the beginning.”

Contemplating her mother’s words, Princess Maria’s eyes were drawn to her Tarot cards as they flew in the air with new-found eagerness. They circled the room, gaining momentum, until finally, after shaking off their owner’s influence and negativity, they gained the strength to calmly whisper into the princess’s ear, “Clear your mind. For both our sakes.”

Pang!

Those words struck the girl’s heart with shame as she realised her cards had been suffering too. About to spiral into a pit of guilt, a sharp snap from inside her head broke the self-punishment. She was beginning to understand she needed to take the advice of Queen Anya and her Tarot deck. If not for herself, for them.

Eyes closed, Princess Maria was determined to shut out the outside world and embrace the blank space. Succumbing to the peace oozing into her soul, she started to feel good again. Soon enough, her cards returned to their owner with glee.

Relaxing into the smooth motion of each card, intertwining through her fingers and travelling to the bottom of the deck, the girl focused on not jumping to conclusions. Don’t expect anything, the princess reiterated to herself. Just paint a picture of your mother and father. That’s it. Nothing else.

Ready to reveal the top card, she opened her eyes. The death card with the image of a skeleton was facing upwards looking back at her. Okay, stay calm, don’t react, Princess Maria told herself. Clearing her mind once more, waiting for her Tarot to guide her, the deck flew out of the girl’s hand and conjured a confident display of profound red energy.

While Queen Anya watched with pride, the cards circulated around the energy, willing it to grow in strength. The princess smiled at her accomplishment, and the cards forged a scene in the centre of the bedchamber.

As the energy subsided, all became clear. Queen Anya and her husband, King Peter, were holding hands, smiling at the gathering of their merry people assembled inside the inner courtyard. Nothing seemed out of place or threatening as musical instruments roused the air, and there was not a single Naxthosian soldier in sight.

“Naxthos is our ally, dear Maria,” said Queen Anya. “You don’t have to worry.”

Rising from the sofa, Queen Anya made her way to the drapes and pulled them open. She gestured for the princess to follow. Mother and daughter stood silently on the balcony, admiring the stillness of the night sky’s serenity.

Now calm, the princess glanced at the queen, taking in every detail of her features, and in the blink of an eye her mother was gone. As she reflected on the memory, twenty- eight-year-old Queen Maria of Wayan stood on the same balcony as she and her mother had all those years ago.

Her parents hadn’t suffered a brutal death at the hands of the Naxthosian army. Instead, many years later, they’d decided to journey out of Wayan through a gateway, crossing vast Tarot worlds and enjoying the rest of their lives together without duty or regime. They’d entrusted their daughter as Wayan’s protector.

“I will encourage you to find peace,” whispered Queen Maria in the present. She placed her hands delicately upon  her well-rounded bump. The baby kicked its mother. “I take that to be a yes.” Queen Maria chuckled.

Looking out from the exotic Island of Delqroix, the queen spotted an excitable crowd of fish quickly cutting through the waters. She watched them swim away from the epicentre in awe of their glistening, multicoloured scales reflecting off the clear, crisp lake.

Eager to show her soon-to-be newborn the wonders of their world, Queen Maria struggled to decide where to begin; the four clans that enclosed their home on the mainland harnessed and crafted fantastical sorcery using the object from their respective symbol.

The Land of Cups, comprised of esteemed sailors and water-bearers, was docked in a shipping town in the south-west. The expert sorcerers and sorceresses from the Land of Wands resided inside the rugged mountains in the north-west. The heavy-handed, combat-skilled Swords were in the north east. Finally, the Pentacles. With a rich history in learning about the unity of the symbols and inspiring others to succeed, they lived in treetop houses in
the luscious green forests of the south-east.

Deep in the trance, the abrupt sound of the bedchamber door closing startled her. She did not want to tear herself away from the beautiful landscape but knew she had to. She took one last look at the fish before carefully stepping off the sun-drenched balcony into the stale air.

Her husband, King Marco, born on the Tarot world Naxthos, stood perplexed on the other side of the room. His once uplifted sky-blue eyes looked riddled with worry, and his tall body hunched over from an invisible weight. Consumed with love for her partner, Queen Maria gave him room to explain, but it never came, and his anxiousness worsened.

“Marco?” said Queen Maria softly.

Edging closer, the king didn’t answer, and when she finally joined him, Queen Maria held his hands tight, encouraging him to open up.

“It’s Lillian,” said King Marco.

“Lillian?”

“She’s here.”

“What! You mean right now?”

“Yes. She’s just arrived from Naxthos with her children and the nanny. They are downstairs in the guest quarters as we speak,” replied the King.

“How did she seem?”

“She seemed genuinely pleased to see me. Like the last three years of no contact hadn’t happened.”

“Marco, please don’t blame yourself,” urged Queen Maria. “She was the one who went cold. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I just don’t want to get my hopes up,” said King Marco, his tone subdued.

“Then don’t expect anything. Keep a clear head, dear husband. Let’s see how the events unfold.”

Looking into his wife’s spirited hazel eyes, her so&, comforting words made the King of Wayan feel more at ease. He stared down at the bump and felt all-consuming love for mother and baby. Taking refuge inside their little bubble, the minutes ticked by, and finally King Marco was ready to face his estranged sister again.

Unity established, the pair stepped out of their bedchamber and into the harmonious hallway, where the old tapestries hadn’t changed since Maria was a little girl. At the far end, the queen caught a glimpse of an additional portrait: her mother and father stood smiling at the congregation around them in the throne room before they set upon their journey through a portal into other worlds. Wherever they are, Queen Maria thought, all I hope for is their happiness.

King Marco gently squeezed his wife’s hand and guided her slowly down the grand marble staircase. When they finally reached the bottom, they took a sharp le& towards an archway leading down a narrow passageway towards the guest quarters and through a door at the far end into a plush, regal living room with old stone walls and medieval-style furniture and architecture. The sun’s rays beamed through a large stained-glass window and lit the room with multicoloured light.

The sound of children laughing filled the air. They seemed joyful, like they were running rings around each other. The queen and king hunted for the source; a separate door was open on the other side of the room.

The roars of laughter grew more robust. They stepped through into the dining room as a young boy, close to seven, with dishevelled strawberry-blond hair and covered in mud, chased a slightly younger girl. She had freckles on her cheeks and dark auburn hair cut into a blunt bob. They were goading one another as they ran around an amused woman in her mid-thirties, with long white striking locks and an energetic, whimsical spirit.

“You both!” said the woman playfully. “Where will you cause trouble next, I wonder?”

“The whole of Wayan!” called Anmos.

“You’re silly!” chirped Aimesia.

The boy darted away and, without looking, bang! King Marco had the wind knocked out of him, and the scared young boy backed away.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to run into you!”

Trying to keep a straight face, Queen Maria turned her attention to the nanny, who bowed, and waited dutifully with a warm, inviting smile.

“Hello,” said Queen Maria.

“Your Highness,” replied Sylvie.

“Please, no bowing,” urged the queen. “What is your name?”

“Sylvie, of the Tarot world Rosa.”

“You mean sorceress!” said Anmos.

“Sorry, Anmos.” Sylvie chuckled. “Sorceress Sylvie of Rosa. It’s a great honour to finally meet you both.”

“And it is a delight to meet you, Sylvie,” replied Queen Maria, instantly liking her.

As Queen Maria continued the pleasantries, King Marco nervously scanned the space around them, and the Sorceress of Rosa picked up on his restlessness.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Your Majesty?” encouraged Sylvie.

“We had hoped to find my sister,” answered King Marco through gritted teeth.

“She told me she was heading to the jetty,” said Sylvie.

“The jetty?” replied the confused king.

“Yes, there was something she needed to locate on the mainland, and so desired a boat to take her there.”

“What was she looking for?” asked Queen Maria, as  shocked as her husband.

“She didn’t say. I was ordered to stay with the children and wait for her return.”

Casting nervous glances at one another, the rulers of Wayan made an abrupt exit into the narrow passageway. They picked up the pace, stepping into the radiating light coming in through the large entrance hall windows, and headed outside. Their mouths dropped at the sight before them, for Queen Lillian breezed through the yard, her forest-green cloak with gold flora lace embroidery trailing the ground behind her. Her rich green eyes with tints of yellow met her brother’s.

“Everything okay?” asked Queen Lillian.

“Lillian?” asked King Marco, confused.

“Yes? Er, dear brother, you look unsettled? As do you, dear sister-in-law.”

“We thought you were down by the jetty?” queried King Marco.

“Why would I be?”

“Sylvie told us?” asked King Marco.

“No. I never told Sylvie that. Why would she…”

As the last word le& her lips, a dark, sinister cloud formed around the group. The nanny had lied, and they needed to find Anmos and Aimesia quick. Feeling sick as they drew nearer, Queen Lillian was the first to enter the empty living room.

“Mother!” shouted Anmos. Now fearful for her children’s safety, Queen Lillian followed her son’s voice into the dining room, as did Queen Maria and King Marco. They watched in horror. The Sorceress of Rosa had already willed fantastical, multicoloured magic from her Tarot cards and wrapped the energy around Anmos and Aimesia. The children struggled to break free as they stood before a glistening circular gateway to another Tarot world.

“Sylvie!” pleaded Queen Lillian. “What are you doing?”

“Please, stop!” called Queen Maria.

Inches away from leaving Wayan, Sylvie ignored them. She forced the terrified children through the portal just as Queen Lillian ran for the gateway. It closed before she could reach it.

In hot pursuit, Queen Maria willed her agile Tarot deck to tap into the portal’s energy, and soon their profound red power reopened the gateway. The three rulers strode through, preparing to take down the Sorceress of Rosa with their Tarot cards. But, on the other side, their mission was futile as countless portals leading off into vast worlds shimmered victoriously. Sylvie and the children had vanished.

Tarot – Crossing Worlds is available now, you can find out more and order your copy on:

Rachel Clarke’s Website | Publisher | Link Tree | Waterstones | Bookshop.org

Rachel Clarke, originally from Worksop, Nottinghamshire, holds a master’s degree in screenwriting from Aberystwyth University. Throughout her career she has worked as a talent coordinator for production agencies in Canada and London. She was a script reader for Tiger Aspect and a production coordinator for Lime Pictures. She now runs a successful company helping screenwriters worldwide succeed in developing their film projects. She lives in Aberystwyth, Wales.