She had asked the saint once who the Darkness was; she’d asked at night, years ago, amid wine and candles, and the saint had replied in the cards: again and again the answer appeared in the center of the spread. The Moon. It was the card Juan had drawn for her and the one Tali understood the least, the one she always interpreted as meaning an important change, a voluntary one. But it was also about deception, confusion, reverie. Madness, even.
