Arcana Rising (The Arcana Chronicles Book 5) (21 page)

“We all are. He wants to defeat ‘worthy’ opponents, with as much carnage as possible. He also enjoys the occasional cataclysm, just because it feels good to him.”

“What happens if he wins?”

The river grew choppy, the fog dissipating. “Hell on earth. His reign would mark the end of mankind. All the cards must sense this.”

Surely that was the root of my ominous feeling, my sense that something big was coming down the pipeline. So why did my unease feel removed from Richter? “We can’t let him win. If you hang tight in the abyss, you can simply outlast him, right?”

“Oh, are we back to playing? I thought the innocent Empress wanted no part of the game. Except when an Arcana irritates her or steps out of line in any way.”

How could water convey such snark? “You’re still pissed about whatever I might have done to you in the past.” Though I’d found evidence of her cold-bloodedness, I still hadn’t read how I’d betrayed her. “I get it. But we were both evil. Admit it: you would’ve double-crossed me if I hadn’t done it to you first.”

Eddies twirled.

Irritating
eddies. “Ugh! That’s your way of ignoring me, isn’t it?” As if she’d covered her ears and sang, “La la la.” I snatched up a stone and threw it at the water. “I remembered the day we killed the Moon.
You
took her icon.”

The eddies subsided. “I might have worn it
best
, Evie Greene, but you wore it
next
.”

In other words, the icon had transferred to me when I’d killed Circe.

“Empress,
you
are the only one protesting your innocence in this game. I’ve made no such promises.”

“I’m not innocent. I don’t know what I am. But I know I have zero interest in winning.” I plucked the flowers I’d grown. “You said Arcana sometimes
ask
you to take them to the abyss—that it’s the only place they can see to go. I didn’t understand before, but now I do.”

I braided dandelion stems to make a wreath. The prospect of my death didn’t bother me—my one-way ticket loomed—but the idea of Aric dying made my glyphs burn.

“What are you thinking about that upsets you so?” she asked.

I shrugged and tossed my wreath into the river. Water rose beneath the circlet in the shape of a head, and I almost smiled. “When I relive our interactions, I remember how close we were.”

Another sigh. “Apparently, not close enough.” A wave gulped down the wreath.

That time, I’d definitely received a warning.

“How long till I see her?” I muttered from the backseat of our most recent ride. I dimly remembered Matthew getting yet another vehicle and helping me in.

I was still laid out. Never been sick a day in my life, but I couldn’t shake this, no. My bones ached so bad I was certain I’d caught bonebreak fever. Delirium was setting in.

I slept most hours, barely remembering the ones when I was awake. My breaths whistled as if a weight pressed on my chest, and the skin on my bum leg felt red hot, itching like something was crawling all over it. Or
in
it.

But Matthew had given me a fifty-fifty shot of pulling through.
Had worse odds, me.
“Want to see my girl.”

As usual,
coo-yôn
didn’t answer me.

We remained far in the west, as far as I could tell. Most roads had been blocked, and gas proved as scarce as ever. I didn’t know where Domīnija’s place was, just knew it could be reached within a week on horseback from Fort Arcana. At our present pace, it would take the Fool and me
months
to reach even the area.

But I had to assume he would eventually get me to Evie.

In a rough voice, I said, “Woan answer me? Then tell me this,
sosie
. If you can fight . . . why didn’t you ever before?” I thought of all those times I’d needed help out of a tight spot, when he could’ve changed the tide.

In the salt mine, that boy had taken out a dozen men—without a weapon. I supposed if I could see every move an opponent would make ahead of time, I could defeat just about anybody.

Pointing at his temple, he said, “If I do that, I don’t do
this
.”

My head pounded too hard to pursue the subject. “Can’t say I’ve missed these little talks of ours.”

“Empress made you a gravestone.”

Of course, she would’ve figured I’d died with the rest. The odds of me surviving that blast were a million to one. Then the lava, and
then
the flood, which Matthew had blamed on Circe. I hated that Evie had grieved for even a second. “What’d she say when you told her I lived?”

Silence from
coo-yôn
.

“You
did
tell her?” No answer. My eyes shot wide. I wheezed, sucking in a breath. “Damn it, boy!” I’d never imagined this possibility. Because I’d thought he cared about Evie in his own way. “She . . . she doan know I’m coming?”

“Nope.”

Putain!
And I wasn’t strong enough to sit up, much less choke the spit out of him. If she thought I was gone, had she already accepted Domīnija? “Is Evie with Death? They together?”
Say no, say no.

After she’d chosen me, I’d felt like hell for Domīnija. Actually had sympathy for the bastard, ’cause I knew how it felt to lose her.

When she’d wanted to stay with him back after he’d abducted her . . . I’d lost my goddamned mind.

Matthew said, “Not yet.”

My eyes slid closed with relief. But it was short-lived. Not
yet
. “Tell my girl I’m coming for her! Tell her it’ll always be Evie and Jack.”

No reply.

“At least answer me this: Do I got a chance with her?” Without her as the light at the end of this tunnel, I didn’t know how I could keep going. Grief over the army threatened to do me in. I’d gotten all those people killed. By using Arcana players to establish order, I’d lured in that monster.

Folks close to me had a habit of getting dead. Clotile blew out her brains to save me. Selena burned. I remembered Maman on Day Zero and shuddered.

“Yes. A chance.
Chance
means
luck
.” Matthew glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Empress despises me for letting you die.”

“Then tell her I’m alive!” I yelled, bringing on a new bout of dizziness. Couldn’t catch my breath. Sweat broke out over my skin, even as I felt freezing. “You’ve let her . . . believe I’ve died—twice. You trying to drive . . . her insane, you
sosie
? Or manipulate her?”

“I don’t manipulate the Empress. Alone. I manipulate much.”

“Give me a reason . . . you’re making her suffer.”

He tapped his temple. “Switchboard on. Emperor hears.”

So
coo-yôn
had turned off the calls to keep her out of Richter’s reach.
Merde
, I couldn’t fault his reasoning. Still: “Could he track her from a quick call . . . If she doan know I’m alive. . . she’s goan to be with Domīnija.” The thought made my heart thunder.

My fever was spiking again, getting worse by the second. Pain wrenched a groan from my wheezing lungs.

Hell, Matthew’s odds for me might’ve been generous.

“You want me to risk the call to her, Hunter?”

When black dots swarmed my vision again, I rasped,
“Non.”
Not yet. “’Cause I’ll probably be dead anyway. . . .”

“What are you doing in this wing?” I asked Aric. He’d just come from my grandmother’s room.

This was the first time I’d spoken to him since our run-in down by the river. His training had ramped up again, and he spent hours each day practicing with his swords. Otherwise, he kept to his study and his black-walled bedroom.

Just like before, the atmosphere around the castle felt like a powder keg—except now we had outside threats to worry about. I’d considered demanding a talk with him, but what could I offer? Nothing had changed between us.

His eyes went starry at the sight of me before he shuttered his gaze. With his tone neither warm nor cold, he said, “I sought the wisdom of a Tarasova, so I went hat in hand.”

“What did you want to know?”

He hiked his broad shoulders. “Alas, I . . . upset her,” he said, not answering my question.

“Upset.” I could only imagine. Her hatred bubbled up more and more, keeping pace with her rapidly declining physical and mental health.

She’d gotten so paranoid she wouldn’t allow me to turn on the electric lights anymore—because of “the Tower.” Only the fire lit her room. Shadows crept over the walls, over my vines, the flames a constant reminder of loss.

When her mouth grew slack on one side, she’d finally allowed Paul to examine her. His diagnosis: a stroke and continuing ministrokes—which she’d refused to believe. She’d slurred, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Death is making me sick. He needs me out of the picture.”

Paul had given her a prescription from his stockpiled medical supplies, but the pills hadn’t helped. My grandmother was dying, and there was nothing we could do for her.

Now I sidled even closer to Aric, craving comfort, companionship,
anything
. I continued seeing him in most of my dreams, making me miss him even more. “Please tell me what you wanted to know from her.”

He ignored my question. “You look exhausted, Empress.” Was that a flare of pity in his eyes?

My own line’s Tarasova was beating me down—because I was desperately clinging to my trust in my allies, and to myself as a person.

Yesterday Gran had murmured, “All you have to do is surrender . . . draw on your hatred and pain. Become her: the Empress you were meant to be.” My grandmother was trying to “program” me again, to undo the work of shrinks and psych meds. To undo everything Mom had taught me about being decent.

My mind felt like a bloody battlefield. I dreaded going to see Gran, which made me sick with guilt.

Aric said, “Paul could help out with her more.”

“He’s already with her so much.” Whereas I seemed only to frustrate her, he could get her to calm down and even to eat. But he’d also told me she couldn’t hold on much longer. “I keep thinking each day will be her . . . last.” Couldn’t Aric sense impending death? I wondered what he’d say if I asked him for a heads-up.

I also wondered why I wasn’t sadder about Gran. Yes, she was being hateful, but she hadn’t been during my childhood. At least, as far as I could trust my memories.

Maybe I’d grown so numb to grief that nothing could affect me. What if I’d strangled my heart until it was permanently damaged?

I gazed at Aric and knew the answer to that question. I was grieving for him as much as for Jack, even though Aric was
right here
in front of me.

I’d lost the love of my life. But the man I considered my soul mate was waiting for me. How much longer could I claw my way through an apocalypse alone?

Studying my face, Aric said, “The Tarasova will no doubt tell you I’ve harmed her. For the record, I would never hurt her.”

“And I would never believe you could.”

With a curt nod, he strode past me. “Empress.”

I followed him. “If you won’t call me
sievā
, then use my name:
Evie
.”

“I’ve told you: your ever-changing names don’t matter. Empress remains the same.”

“E-V. Evangeline, if you must.” I trailed him back to his study. “How long are you going to avoid me? You said you’d train me.”

He took a bottle and glass to his desk, sinking into his chair. “At present, your grandmother is seeing to your . . . education.”

“You’ll be happy to hear that Paul doesn’t give her long.”

“That doesn’t make me happy. It doesn’t make me anything.”

“Because you and I are merely allies.
Of a sort
.”

Shrug.

“So we’ll go long stretches at a time without seeing each other?” Sadness washed over me.

“You had planned
never
to see me again, Empress.” His expression grew so enraged that I almost took a step back. “You rode away with that full intention.”

“Do you think that was easy for me?”

He hissed, “
Effortless
.” Then he inhaled to get a rein on his temper. “I offered you everything. And you spurned me for another. What’s so bad is that I can’t fault you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Deveaux fought with bravery. He was intelligent. He had cunning and was a born leader. If I was going to lose you to anyone, I would want it to be him.”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about him.”

As if I hadn’t spoken, Aric continued, “I hated him at first, was seething with jealousy when the two of you were together. But through your memories, I learned a lot about him. I saw what he’d struggled against as a boy. I comprehended his frustrations and his dreams.” Aric shot his glass, and poured another. “I needed to continue hating Deveaux, but ultimately I
liked
him. Which made everything more confusing.”

I took my usual seat. “The night you two got drunk together, something changed.”