“Arina—” I begin, voice cracking.
“Arina’s breathing, though barely,” Gregor interrupts. He is holding her again, his massive arms cradling her like she’s made of glass. My sister has never looked so small or frail.
“She needs medical attention.” I try to summon Glavstone’s Queen of Cups from my deck, but it falls before I can cast it, dropping uselessly into the boat. Jura scoops up the card and offers it to me, but I ignore it, staring wide-eyed at my sister.Beyondmy sister. Never has a card failed me. Never has my magic felt so thin and weak.
The endless font of power I always took for granted…exhausted.
“Clara, your magic…” Ren whispers.
“I never used so much at once. But it’ll come back soon enough, I’m sure.” I am, in fact, not sure. But I won’t worry about a “what if” when there’s so much in front of me to panic over.
“We’re going somewhere safe,” Twino says, but I hear the faintest hint of hesitation in his voice. His eyes are alert, scanning the shoreline.
“You have a new hideaway?” I surmise, following his gaze.
“Something like that.” He’s focused on the northern edge of the city, where the sheer cliffs and jagged peaks loom and carve up the lightening sky.
As I force myself to find strength again, I look behind us at the forever-changed landscape of the Farlum River, scanning the waters still full of prisoners swimming for the shore and the chaos of the enforcers along the riverbanks ready to meet them—launching vessels of their own to cut them off in the water. Kaelis is nearly back and I know whatever time he can buy us will be limited.
“We’re going to stand out if we stay in this boat.” Every part of me is on alert for any possibility that Ravin might seeme.“We’re obvious targets.”
“They have their hands full over there.” Ren nods toward the enforcers working to corral or kill prisoners as they reach the shore.
“All it takes is for Ravin to find us.” I lock eyes with him. “With my magic and body so weak, I’m not sure I could fend him off.”
“That’s what you have us for.” Jura shifts at my side and pats the deck at her hip.
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” I say flatly.
“I think we do.” Gregor’s tone is unusually grave. He shifts his grip on Arina. She is enough of a reminder of the prince’s cruelty. But then he continues, “We watched a ghostly skeleton drag the blade of a scythe across Silas’s neck. No blood. No wound. He justfell.Eyes wide and blank as if there had never been a soul in them in the first place.”
Death.A chill runs down my spine despite the balmy heat of early summer. The way Gregor describes it is exactly like the drawing I saw on Ravin’s card.
“You know what it was.” It’s not a question from Twino. He knows my expressions too well; he can see the recognition in my eyes.
“What you saw was a Major tarot: Death,” I say gravely. “Ravin is the Major of Death.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gregor groans. “Majors aren’t real and then suddenly they’re all around us. AmIa Major now?”
He means it as a jest, but I answer seriously. “You could be,” I say. All of them startle at that. I elaborate: “The power of each Major card always exists in the world. When one personification of the Major dies, the power is transferred into another person—it could be an unborn baby, or it could be someone wizened with age.”
“So you’re saying one of us could suddenly wake up and discover we can ink legendary cards?” Gregor’s tone is suddenly hopeful.
“There are only two you could make that discovery for—as only two Majors are now unaccounted for: the Chariot and the Hanged Man.” The reminder of Silas gives them all a pause. Luckily, they don’t ask about the Hanged Man. I don’t have the energy to explain Eza to them right now.
“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” Gregor seems hopeful.
“I think you’d notice some differences in your power,” Jura says.
“Would I? How would I know?” Gregor looks to me.
“I’m not exactly an authority…” I murmur. “Besides, being aMajor makes you a target. The king keeps them accounted for and close at hand—either at his own court or those of the High Lords and Ladies of the clans under him.”
“The king doesn’t want to see his toys damaged,” Twino mutters.
“He clearly doesn’t give a shit about damaging his ‘toys.’ ” There’s malice behind Gregor’s words as he adjusts Arina in his arms. “If I’m not the Chariot or Hanged Man, maybe I should kill some more Majors, just to see if I get lucky…”
“Not the best use of our time,” I caution, but he doesn’t hear me.
