As I go to gather up my cards and place them inside their container, my fumbling hands slip, and they spill across the ground around me. Everyone sees, but no one stops to help. Professor Vexus scoops up his own bag and strolls out without a backward glance, adding to my embarrassment. I track down every card on my own and the others shuffle off, Ember getting swept up in the crowd.
I count the cards as I gather them, realizing I’m one shy of seventy-eight.
“Shit-damn-piss,” I grumble, getting more frantic as I search beneath the neighboring desks. Someone passes in front of me and moves to hand me something. The Knight of Wands reflects the light, catching my eye as he holds it out. I reach for it quickly, slowing as I glance up and find a handsome druid before me,his hair jet-black, skin bronze, smile roguishly charming, eyes a cutting silver.
“Fuck, I forgot I’m not supposed to touch them, right?” He flinches a little at his lack of decorum. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” I wave off the worry forming between his brows, and his face relaxes. Trembling like a gods damned fool, I slip the card in with the rest of the deck. Professor Vexus had mentioned briefly that the cards could be cleansed by keeping the deck in its box for thirteen hours. It means I can’t practice tonight, but I have a feeling I’ll be too tired anyway. They should at least be recharged by morning.
I’m surprised he’s still standing here. The rest of the class has already gone, and I realize the friendly ones likely didn’t want to impede my studying by gathering up my deck for me.
“I’m Wynter.” He holds out his hand, and we clasp arms in a very human greeting. My gaze is drawn to the vascularity of his forearms, like he’s been hewn from magnificent marble. He doesn’t have horns or wings, but there are druid tattoos lurking under his sleeve, though his clothes are standard-issue. “I drew Judgment. I was trying to figure out how to approach you with that.”
“Oh … we’re partners.” I’m not sure what to think. He’s a little too pretty to be studying with, as likely to distract me as help me, second only maybe to Draven. Factoring in Wynter’s personality and he’s much more appealing than the prince. “I’m Rune, by the way.” To my surprise, he doesn’t react, but maybe he’d already heard it. “You have any luck drawing your card today?”
“Um, yes.” Those silver eyes scan my face. “Well, once anyway.”
Relief eases the disappointment that’s been rankling me. Maybe I’m not so far behind. I smile softly, and he returns a dazzling one of his own.
“I better head to Minor Arcana,” I say.
“Me too.” Wynter’s gaze traces from my eyes to my lips. He blinks and then gestures for me to lead the way. I’m surprised at the easy candor between us.
“Sorry if you were drawn into the fight before class.”
Wynter frowns, shoulders jumping in a slight shrug. “I was late. I think I just missed it.” I’m not sure if he’s lying or not. Though I don’t know why he’d bother to spare my feelings.
“Apparently, we all were.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. The silence between us longs to be filled, so I find myself adding, “What does the Judgment Hearth look like?”
“Not very crowded.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But honestly, a little creepy. Feels like Hollow Festival, but … all year round.”
“Hollow Festival?”
“It’s a day where we dress in costume to honor Azazel, god of death. Though most just use it to party.” Wynter grins when I raise a brow. “There’s more to it, of course. Some dress like tarot cards, or skeletons, or the monsters Azazel uses to guard the Underworld.”
“Interesting.” I look him up and down. “What’s the power that comes with Judgment?”
He grimaces, running his tongue along a pointed canine. “Power over the living … and the dead. Mind control and necromancy, including the ability to summon spirits. King Silas has the same ability.” Wynter adds tentatively, “What about you? The World is as powerful as it gets.”
“So I’ve been told.” Disappointment seeps into my words. No one seems to think I deserve it or that I’ll manage to keep it. What happens if I don’t? Will I have to redraw? It makes me want to prove them all wrong, to shove it down their throats.Lostdoesn’t quite cover how I’m feeling. I’m stuck in this realm,the Oath makes sure of it, and even if I find out where my family is, I’ll never be able to reach them. There must be a solution I’m not seeing. Maybe one in the magic they’re foolishly teaching us. My wrist prickles painfully beside my tarot cards, now clipped to my hip. Looking Wynter over I say, “Prince Draven mentioned that with higher Arcana comes more power. King Silas said power is what decides things here. Have you found that to be true?”
“Power is the only thing that matters in Sedah. I’m sure the mortal lands aren’t different.”
“Ours stems mostly from riches.” I think back to that orb turning gold. “But that doesn’t seem to be as valued here.”
“Magical power translates to social power within the Court—it can elevate you nearly to royalty.” Wynter leads the way out of the building and into an adjacent one.
With enough power, could I have my family brought here? If the immortals can transfer mortals to other realms, maybe I can buy their freedom.
We stop on the threshold of another classroom, just as big as the last one.
His gaze flits over me. “Where are you sitting?”
I spot Ember and Morgan and invite Wynter to join me, slipping beside them. Kasper is on Ember’s other side, looking sullen, his lip busted from the fighting. Maybe it’s not just my family on the line. Perhaps it’s the cancerous idea of vengeance that makes me want to put my all into these cards, feeding off every cell within my traitorous body.
If I become powerful, I can change things.
If I can change things, I can bring it all down.
