Clow laughed. "That sounds like most of the diviners I know. For people supposedly so open to the patterns of the future, they can be terribly close-minded about the methods used to scry it. The trumps alone are a powerful set of symbols, and three-card spreads are plenty adequate for some sorts of work. If it gives you good results, stick with it."

One final mix, and he dealt one of his usual spreads, a pyramid three cards tall on it's base. He set the remainder of the deck face-up on the table, looking at the bottom card first. He gave it a wry grin, and then flicked it out so Felix could see as well.

"Seven of pentacles, reversed - impatience and suspicion. I suppose I should be glad this deck knows me that well already."

The top of the pyramid came next, revealing the ace of cups. "The background knowledge for our problem - that of the losses. Inflexible wills... that could be commentary on the castle, or on my own stubbornness on not letting the matter drop. Hard to say as it stands."

He skipped the second row, and moved to the third. Four of swords, nine of pentacles, and The Star, inverted. He frowned, and then a vision took him, his eyes rather abruptly seeming to look at nothing at all. It was brief, just a glimpse - his book, sinking into a darkness that seemed nearly living in the way it coiled around it - but a glimpse was enough. When it passed, his lips thinned.

"I don't think I like that one bit."