Three days after his meeting with the various secret organizations, Klein made his first attempt to access the Sefirah Castle. The process required a level of spiritual projection that pushed his abilities to their absolute limit, but the notebook provided detailed instructions that seemed to adapt themselves to his current level of understanding.
The ritual took place in the basement of Mrs. Doyle's boarding house, in a room that had been specially prepared for supernatural workings. Klein sat in the center of a complex array of symbols, each one carefully drawn with materials that resonated with the Fool pathway—silver dust mixed with powdered moonstone, candles made from the fat of creatures that existed partially in the spirit world, and incense that produced smoke in colors that had no names in any human language.
"Honorable Mr. Fool," Klein intoned, his voice taking on harmonics that seemed to come from somewhere beyond his physical throat. "I seek passage to the castle above the gray fog, to the throne that commands the twenty-two pathways, to the place where truth and illusion dance together in eternal balance."
The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Klein felt his consciousness being pulled upward, through layers of reality that existed beyond normal perception. He passed through the spirit world, where vast entities turned their attention toward him with curiosity and something that might have been respect. He soared past the conceptual realms where abstract ideas took on physical form, and finally emerged into a space that defied all attempts at description.
The Sefirah Castle was both exactly what the notebook had depicted and utterly beyond anything Klein could have imagined. It was a palace of crystallized starlight and solidified dreams, where the walls were made of compressed time and the floors were paved with the fossilized thoughts of gods. At its center stood a throne that seemed to be carved from a single piece of crystallized infinity, and around it were arranged twenty-two high-backed chairs, each one resonating with the power of a different pathway.
Klein approached the throne with a mixture of awe and trepidation. This was the seat of The Fool's power, the nexus from which the entire pathway drew its authority. As he drew closer, he could feel the vast presence that dwelt within the castle's depths—not malevolent like the Outer Deities he had encountered, but ancient beyond measure and utterly alien to human understanding.
"Welcome, young godling," a voice spoke, though Klein couldn't tell if it came from the throne, the castle itself, or somewhere even more distant. "You have come seeking the power to convene the council, to gather representatives of the pathways in common cause."
"I have," Klein replied, his voice echoing strangely in the impossible acoustics of the castle. "The world is changing, and humanity needs guidance that transcends the agendas of individual organizations."
"And you believe yourself capable of providing such guidance?" the voice asked, and Klein could hear amusement in its cosmic tones. "You who have walked the pathway for mere weeks, who have barely begun to understand the forces you seek to command?"
Klein felt a moment of doubt, but then The Fool's presence within his consciousness pulsed with encouragement. "I don't claim to have all the answers," he said. "But I have something that the established powers lack—the perspective of an outsider, someone who isn't bound by centuries of tradition and accumulated prejudices."
"Interesting," the voice mused. "And how do you propose to convince others to join your council? The pathways have been separate for millennia, each following its own agenda, each viewing the others as potential threats or tools to be manipulated."
Klein thought of the various representatives he had met at the Aurora Order gathering, each one radiating power and confidence, each one convinced of the righteousness of their own cause. "By offering them something they can't get anywhere else," he said finally. "Information. The Fool pathway's ability to reveal hidden connections and perceive patterns that span multiple levels of reality. In exchange for their participation, I'll share insights that could benefit all the pathways."
The voice was silent for a long moment, and Klein could feel vast intelligences considering his proposal. Finally, the throne began to glow with a soft, silver light.
"Very well," the voice said. "You may attempt to convene the council. But be warned—the power to summon representatives of the pathways is not without cost. Each gathering will drain your spiritual energy, and if you attempt to compel attendance rather than invite it, the backlash could destroy your mind."
Klein nodded, understanding the warning. The Tarot Club would have to be built on voluntary participation, not coercion. He would need to make his invitations so compelling that the recipients would choose to attend despite their natural suspicion and rivalry.
"How do I begin?" Klein asked.
The throne pulsed with increased intensity, and Klein felt knowledge flowing into his mind—not the gradual revelation he had experienced with the notebook, but a sudden download of information that left him reeling. He learned about the spiritual signatures of different pathways, the protocols for cross-dimensional communication, and most importantly, the techniques for creating stable projections that could allow individuals to attend meetings in the Sefirah Castle without physically leaving their bodies.
"Choose your first invitees carefully," the voice advised. "Start with those who have the most to gain from cooperation and the least to lose from experimentation. Build trust gradually, and always remember that the council's authority comes not from force, but from the value it provides to its members."
As the knowledge settled into Klein's consciousness, he began to formulate his strategy. He would start with individuals rather than organizations, people who might be willing to explore new possibilities without the constraints of institutional loyalty. The young woman with the Seer abilities he had noticed at Mrs. Doyle's boarding house might be a good candidate, as might some of the independent Beyonders he had heard about through the supernatural underground.
But first, he needed to return to the physical world and begin the delicate process of making contact. The Tarot Club was about to be born, and with it, a new force in the cosmic game that was reshaping reality itself.
As Klein's consciousness descended back through the layers of reality, he carried with him the weight of cosmic responsibility and the exhilarating possibility of changing the world. The Fool's journey was entering its most crucial phase, and the stakes had never been higher.
The crimson moon was rising again, and Klein could feel its influence calling to something deep within his transformed soul. The real work was about to begin.