“Return where?” I ask without looking up, opening Kaelis’s desk drawer. He always keeps three spare decks here, stocked with duplicates of common cards. Still, I pray it will be enough.
The Queen of Cups flows into me, knitting my worst wounds with a haze of blue magic that fades into scarred but whole flesh. I use a Four of Swords for the lesser injuries—it’s weaker than the Queen, but I need to preserve the strongest cards for our group’s gravest wounds.
“To the Stone Citadel,” the Worldkeeper replies as I return to the main chamber. Only five Worldkeepers besides Vaduin remain now. One more, Ferier, is down with Arina. I should learn the names of the two I don’t know, I suppose. This is my new crew, after all. They might not have been the ones I would’ve chosen for myself, but they’re the ones who’ve stood by me.
“What Stone Citadel?” I fix him with a look that’s sharp with irritation. “You heard the collapse yourself—the citadel has fallen.”
“There were more Worldkeepers there. We need to see if they survived.”
“They were already dead.”And even if they weren’t, there’s no way…
“You don’t know that. You didn’t even check how many might have survived.”
“Without me, the Worldkeepers would have ended entirely. Atleast we made it out alive.” I hate how his tone implies that the choice I made to possibly leave anyone behind was easy. That I didn’t do all I could.
“Who are you to decide who lives and dies?” He steps closer, emboldened by grief.
Four cards lift from my fresh decks in warning, reminding him I’m fully armed. I don’t want to fight, but my patience, self-control, and ability to be a bigger person are all hanging by a thread.
“Enough.” Vaduin intervenes. “Our numbers are too few for infighting.”
I study him warily, remembering Gregor’s words from the altar of the vessel. The remarks he made about Kaelis—statements that had come straight from the mouth of Vaduin that I’ll never have the chance to learn the full story of.
“Vacelle, here.” I head to the other side of the main room and pass some cards to her. She’s the one who’s studying healing under Ferier. “Take care of Sorza, then the rest, please.”
“Gladly.” She nods and rushes over to where Sorza remains unconscious but breathing.
“First, we patch ourselves up. Then, we’re taking Gregor to the depths,” I announce. “We’ll find a forgotten room, deep, where he can rest in peace. We’ll seal it behind him.
“After that, I’ll escort you all to Arina’s chambers. That will serve as our new base. No one leaves the academy. No one movesanywherewithout my explicit permission. The bridge passage is compromised.”
“I don’t think I recall us voting you as the new leader,” the man next to Vaduin mutters.
“You heard the prince,” Vaduin says. It’s the closest to a deferral of authority I think I’ll get from him. “She’s in charge here.”
The other Worldkeeper crosses his arms in a huff.
I continue, “Vaduin, Sorza, and I will play our roles and attend All Coins Day. After that, I begin gathering supplies for a new vessel.”
“If the altar of the vessel still exists,” Xora mumbles, defeated.
“Why would you need to create another?” the other man asks.
All eyes turn to Vaduin. I remain silent, letting him confess.
“Ravin took it,” he says quietly.
“Then we’re finished.” The first Worldkeeper collapses onto Kaelis’s couch.
“Stand,” I command firmly. “The prince dislikes blood and dirt on his furniture.”
“I don’t care what—”
My glare silences him. He rises immediately.
I give him one more wary look and then retrieve a blanket from Kaelis’s bed, draping it over Gregor’s form. I pause before covering his face, memorizing my friend’s features one final time.
I’m so sorry.The blanket drops from my fingertips, and it’s the last time I’ll ever see him.
