10:24pm, 12 December 2007
Montreal, Quebec

Paul rolled over and snapped off the light next to the bed. He lay on his back, hands behind his bed, and looked up at the ceiling. Darkness shrouded the hotel room, the closed curtains admitting no light.

It seemed that Montreal was wrong also. This was most baffling.

He clearly remembered the Gypsy dealing out the cards. Two different deals, with very thorough shuffles, had come up entirely Swords. Then the next deal, four cards in a cross....

The Five of Pentacles. "Pain to the south."

The Five of Cups. "Loss to the west."

The Five of Wands. "Strife to the east."

The Ace of Swords. "And in the north, a new beginning destined for success."

And the last words of the Gypsy still hung in Paul's mind, as tenacious as the muggy Philadelphia summer that had surrounded them: "Only one thing is clear: you are to go north."