Dead of Winter (2 page)

I jolted awake in the saddle. The rain had dwindled to a foggy drizzle. How long had I been out?

I rubbed my gritty eyes. Almost screamed. I was surrounded by shadowy figures.

Wait, not
figures
. All around me were towering stacks of rocks, placed like logs for a bonfire. There were so many stacks the area resembled a forest. The stone forest.

Who would waste calories to assemble these? And why did I find them so chilling?

Matthew, are you there?

At last, I felt his presence in my mind!
—Empress!—

Has Violet joined her brother yet?

—The Violet is not there.—

Oh, thank God.

—Soon.—

Shit!
You told me Vincent camped within days of Death's castle. I've ridden for DAYS.

—Arcana all around.—

I heard their calls, as if from a sound-out. . . .

—Eyes to the skies, lads!—
Joules.

—Trapped in the palm of my hand.—
Tess.

—I watch you like a hawk.—
Gabriel.

—Behold the Bringer of Doubt!—
Selena.

—Don't look at
this
hand, look at
that
one.
— Finn.

—Crazy like a fox.—
Matthew.

—We will love you. In our own way.—
The Lovers.

So many Arcana were close. Which meant
I
was close.

—Terror from the abyss!—
Huh?

Before I could ask about the new call, my sense of being watched returned. I jerked my head around.

—Empress, you're one stone forest and one clearing away. Some . . . obstacles between us.—

Movement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man skulking from one stack of rocks to the next.

Another man loped to join the first. The armed pair wore fatigues and creepy night-vision goggles. Soldiers of the Lovers' army?

The stones were for cover, staged as if for a paint-ball course! How long had those men been lying here in wait?

Matthew, I'm in trouble!
I slapped the reins against the mare. She whinnied a protest, but increased her speed. Chest heaving, she wound around the stacks.

I craned my head back. Two soldiers had become ten, all with rifles at the ready. Now they walked in plain view. Because I was already surrounded?

As the ground began to flatten, those stacks grew fewer. I raised my hand above my eyes, straining to see. Ahead—the clearing Matthew had spoken of!

My face fell. With no vegetation, it was a quagmire, water and muck pooling in huge craters.

Past that, a wall towered, must be thirty feet high. What lay behind it?

A shot rang out; a bullet whizzed by my head. My mount fled from the sound. “Go,
GO
!”

In my panic, my nails morphed into thorn claws. The razor-sharp edges sliced through the fingers of my gloves. My glyphs stirred, moving over my skin.

A second gunshot. The near-miss bullet pitted the mud beside the horse's hooves. She shrieked, trotting faster.

The shooters missed on purpose. They would want me—and the horse—alive.

Women and horses were two valuable A.F. commodities.

Desperate for safety, I squinted at the wall. Men guarded a brightly lit gate.

—Head there, Empress.—

My mare would have to slog through the clearing. It was like a moat fronting that wall. The soldiers would catch me long before then.

A bright color drew my attention. Attached to a post was a handcrafted sign emblazoned with a red skull and crossbones—along with the warning:
DANGER! MINES!

And that explained the craters.

Are you kidding, Matthew?
Soldiers trailing me; mines ahead.
How do I get past a minefield?

An agonized yell sounded behind me.

I dared a glance back. Only nine soldiers followed. They ran toward me at a faster clip. The ones at the edges aimed their guns—off to their sides.

Another horrified yell.

And another.

Open gunfire erupted. Muzzle flashes warred with fog; I couldn't make out anything.

I turned forward. Screamed.

Three soldiers stood before me, rifles trained on my face. The mare reared, punching hooves at them.

The other gunmen had been pushing me toward these!

Yet behind them, a black beast melded with shadow. One brilliant golden eye gleamed like a lantern.

Cyclops! Had Lark sent her one-eyed wolf to protect me?

Baring dagger-size fangs, the massive beast gave a spine-chilling snarl. The men twisted around—

Cyclops launched himself at the panic-stricken soldiers, knocking them to the ground. His mighty jaws clamped down on limbs and rifles, snapping through bone and metal.

Body parts sailed into the air. Blood spurted like a mall fountain. I winced, though I should be used to seeing stuff like this.

The wolf lifted his head from the carnage and growled at the stupefied
soldiers positioned behind me. Those bastards had driven me into a trap; Cyclops
ate
the trap.

Faced with the beast's dripping maw, they fled headlong.

For me, Cyclops wagged his scarred tail. “Good damn wolf. Good boy.”

Matthew said:
—Ride for the fort! You have to make it to the wall.—

What's behind the wall?
For all I knew, Matthew was sending me into the Milovnícis' camp.

—RIDE!—

Into mines? We're going to get blown away!
Forget my self-healing powers; I couldn't regenerate from decapitation.

—Go left.—

Directing me around the danger?

I turned to Cyclops. “I don't know if you can understand me, or if Lark is steering her familiar. But follow my mount carefully unless you want to regrow limbs.” He was still limping from our battle with the Devil Card.

He chuffed, and bubbles of blood formed over his snout. With a swish of his tail, he defiantly snapped up a dismembered arm, carrying it like a chew toy. But he did move behind me.

I'm trusting you, Matthew.
I swallowed and guided my horse left.

—MY left!—

Quick correction. Cyclops followed.

—Faster, Empress. Or the Azey will figure out our mine moat maze.—

Your
what
? Who are the Azey?

—
A.S.E.
Army of the Southeast. Go right for three seconds. Then left.—

Holding my breath, I slapped the reins yet again. One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three. I tugged the reins to my right.

—Faster!—

Soon I was galloping through a minefield, a telepathic Arcana in my mind and a giant wolf at my heels.

I could hear those same wet breaths. The wolf had been following me! If I lived through this night, I was
so
going to owe Lark.

The gate creaked open ahead. I spurred the mare, racing to reach the fort.

With no idea what awaited me . . .

The gates slammed closed behind Cyclops's tail.

Matthew was there to greet us, wearing a vacant smile. When he crossed to me and held up his arms, I fell out of the saddle, legs gone boneless. He caught me against himself, helping me stand.

“What is this place?” I wheezed, taking in details. The wall was made of scrap metal: car hoods, road signs, rebar. Large military-style housing tents were spread out over a sizable area. Covered torches hung on lines above, casting light.

“The hunter was busy while you were away.”

“This is Jack's?” Horses dozed in a stable, chickens clucked in a coop, and dozens of people milled about.

All guys, naturally. They stared not only at me—a female—but at my colossal one-eyed bodyguard, currently scarfing down the last of his human chew toy.
Wolves gotta eat.

Matthew peeled me off him, shoving one of his sleeves up. “Take off your gloves, Empress.”

I did, too exhausted to protest. My head spun like I'd just stepped off a playground round-a-bout.

He brandished a knife and sliced his pale arm before I could stop him. Then he used his blood to draw a line over the back of my icon hand. “This is Gamekeeper's blood. There's protection here.” Crimson
crossed over the two markings of my Arcana kills, as if to cancel them out. “Lots of other Arcana here, but we have trues. No one strikes on hallowed ground.”

“Truce?”

“
Trues
. The true-hearted cards,” he said, adding darkly, “for a time.” Matthew had created a war-free area with a power I hadn't known about.

I gazed up at him. In the last three months, he'd grown even taller. Had his birthday passed? Was he seventeen yet? He wore a waterproof parka, a wool button-down,   jeans, and a pair of hiking boots, all newish looking. Had Jack sourced clothes for him?

As Aric had done for me?

Inner shake. “Thank you, Matthew. You got me here safely.”

With his brown eyes as adoring as a puppy's, he asked, “The Empress is my friend?” He used to declare this. Now he had to ask.

Was I still pissed that he'd covered up Jack's lies? I'd been furious when he'd taught Aric how to neutralize my powers, but Matthew had probably saved my life by doing that.

Maybe I needed to accept that he did everything for a reason. I'd trusted him to steer me through a minefield (talk about a team-building exercise). I'd relied on his mysterious guidance to escape Death.

But trusting Matthew completely would be like falling backward. A free fall. Was I ready?

Life had been too short for grudges before the Flash. Now . . . “Evie
is
your friend.” I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight. When I pulled back, I said, “Matthew, where is Jack?”

“The hunter is nigh.”

“How do I get to him?”

“Horse.”

A nondescript middle-aged man approached. With a wary glance at the wolf, he took the mare's reins, promising to care for her. Oh. Horse.

As the guy led her to the stable, I made a mental note to grow her a treat. “Who are all these people?” Some cleaned weapons beneath a
bright tarp—the kind you used to see at raucous tailgate parties. Others were heating water and doing laundry.

“Humans. Jack collects them. I like their soup.”

“Do they know what we are?”

“Jack lets them think we're gods. They call this Fort Arcana, established Year 1 A.F.”

“What about keeping ourselves secret? You told me Arcana and non-Arcana mix poorly. You told me humans burn what they fear.”

A glimmer of something unsettling crossed Matthew's features. “There aren't enough humans left to consider.”

I'd have to think about that later. “Matthew, I need to get to—”

“The watchtower!” He stepped onto a narrow board path that ran through the muddy camp like a freeway. A plankway. Off he went.

“The what?” My legs were so tired, I could barely balance as I tried to keep up.

Cyclops padded along beside me, his frizzy black fur shimmying. His scarred snout was just to the right of my head, his filthy whiskers almost brushing my cheek. His enormous paws sloshed mud up my pants.

Was that a finger stuck in the knotted scruff under his chin?

I trailed Matthew to the far side of the fort. “Did you send me a vision of my mother? Or did I dream?”

Over his shoulder, he said, “Our enemies laugh. Smite and mad. Fall and struck.”

That was his answer? Sometimes I wanted to grab him and shake him.

“We're here.” Along the back wall stood a three-story structure, clad in metal sheeting. Matthew climbed a ladder to the top.

I followed, leaving the wolf to prowl below. At every rung, I wheezed and winced. “Can we . . . please talk about . . . a rescue for Jack?”

At the top level, Matthew tilted up a license plate, revealing a small slot. “Empress.” He motioned for me to peer out.

“Okay, what am I looking at? Oh, wow.” We were high up on a
blustery vantage with a sheer drop-off. A river that looked as broad as the Mississippi coursed below. An amazing sight. Before the rains, there'd been no bodies of water like this.

“The placement of this fort is genius.” That minefield moat bordered three sides of the wall, while this steep bluff and river protected the fourth.

“Jack,” he said simply. “Fort Arcana grew from you. The mission . . .”

When he couldn't find me at Death's, Jack had targeted the Lovers for me—and for him. He'd had his own vendetta against the Milovnícis.

I gazed across the water at an opposing bluff. Fires dotted the area. Tents stretched for what seemed like miles. A few rock ridges jutted upward, offering protection from attack.

“Is that the Army of the Southeast?” It was huge. I tried to imagine where Jack was being kept. To be this close to him . . .

“Half of the Azey. Azey South. Azey North's not too far away.”

Which meant Violet wasn't too far away either. How to get to Jack before she did? “I don't suppose this wind ever dies down?” I could launch spores from here, putting all the soldiers to sleep. Then I'd take a boat across, stroll into their camp, and drag Jack out.

“The winds go all night. Which is all day.”

There went that idea—

Shots erupted from across the river, lots of them at one time. My stomach dropped as the sounds echoed over the water. I whirled around to Matthew. “Not him?”

“No. Daily execution.” How the Milovnícis kept the rank and file in line.

I sagged with such relief, I almost felt guilty. Then I wondered how those shots had affected Jack.

“He believes no help is coming,” Matthew whispered. “Knows he can't escape. Thinks his friends are dead.”