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Death and the Tower were not feeling me out for an alliance, no matter what Cato thinks. I expected Death to go on a rampage and eliminate as many champions as quickly as possible, but he seems to be playing an entirely different game. He knows I’m the daughter of the woman he killed twenty-two years ago and he’s keeping the knowledge to himself. Surely he doesn’t feel guilty … but if he did? Maybe that’s why he’s hesitant to be in the alliance meant to strike me down?

The same cannot be true for this golden god of a man before me, smelling too good and emitting an inviting kind of warmth. Cato and I have no tenuously shared history. “Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. What do you want from me?”

“A good portion of this thing is pure optics.” He turns us smoothly. “The Sun and the Moon are a perfect set. If we allied, the city would love it. They wouldn’t be able to resist rooting us on.”

I blink. “Who cares what the city thinks? When night comes, the people will be hiding safely in their homes while we fight to the death.”

“Moon.” Cato sighs. “You’re not thinking long-term. The Trials are only the beginning. Surviving them is the first step in a battle that lasts a lifetime.”

It’s clear he’s leading me somewhere, no matter how little I like it. “And that battle is for…”

“Power.” He spins me easily out and back. “The fights look different, but they’re no less deadly in the political arena. I could be a useful ally in the Trials—and beyond.”

This is such a wild pivot from how he acted toward me yesterday. Even earlier, he was an asshole, if a slightly more understandable one. “I know you think I’m a fool, but you can’t honestly expect me to believe you’d watch my back without sticking a dagger in it.”

“Believe what you want.” He shrugs with a graceful lift of his broad shoulders as he swings me around again. “Alliances have already been formed among the other champions, and they’re going to have a steep advantage over any champions left on their own.”

Play smart, Kestrel. I shudder at the sound of Mouse’s voice in my ear, so close I almost turn to see if he’s standing right behind me. But of course he isn’t. He’s back in the Dregs, impatiently waiting to see if all his time and training will pay off with a victory. He wouldn’t like this. But I can’t rely on Mouse or his advice to save me here. I have to save myself. I grit my teeth and force out the words to buy me some time to look at this mess from all the angles.

If Cato is telling the truth about not being in the Chariot’s pocket, he might very well be a good choice in an ally. None of the other champions will trust him for the same reason I’m hesitant to—there’s too great a risk he’s a lure. It means he’s isolated, just as Vesper and I are isolated. “I’ll consider it.”

“Do that.” Cato doesn’t press for an answer now, which is just as well. “Survive the night and we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He releases me as the song ends.

I take the opportunity to flee into the shadows at the edge of the dance floor. My chest heaves with exertion. Dancing like they do isn’t necessarily exhausting on its own, but I’m not built for stamina. Not yet, anyway. Give me a few weeks of eating the way the Cups do and I’ll be able to keep up with the best of them.

“The wheel turns and turns again.”

I hadn’t realized Vesper moved from their seat. They stand a few feet away, bathed in the shadows of a nearby pillar, looking properly mysterious. I shiver. “What are you on about?”

“The world is all about balance. Good luck, bad luck, good turns, bad turns. Can’t have one without the other.” There’s a strange distance to their voice, as if they’re talking to themself and not me.

“Vesper.” I shift closer despite my best intentions. “Are you okay?”

They give themself a shake and finally seem to focus on me. “I’m fine. A little tired from all the excitement. Some Cups can’t help themselves and several of them asked for a dance. I, of course, declined.”

Because of their leg. They seem to get around just fine between their cane and brace, but dancing must be an extra strain—one they can’t afford when we’re spending each night running and fighting. “Does it hurt?”

“Every day.” Vesper shrugs. “As I said, it makes me a liability in most of the other champions’ eyes. But they’re not considering the whole picture.”

I shouldn’t entertain this. No matter what Cato thinks, or even what Vesper said earlier, it’s safer for me to move through the Trials without worrying about an ally who might betray me in the end. Each night, I’ll learn more about the depths of my powers and potentially expand them. Even without an offensive element there, the Moon’s stealth magic promises to be formidable once I harness it fully. With that in play, I can outlast all but the most dogged pursuit of me.

Except my short conversation with Cato lingers. “You mean after the Trials?”

“While I will be remarkably useful as a member of the Cinque, I’m talking about during the Trials.” Vesper smiles tightly. “I’m the Page of Swords. I’ve had more formal training in a wider variety of subjects than anyone here. I also grew up among the Minor Court districts and know my way around the area.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Death, the Star, and the Chariot have all spent plenty of time in the Minor Court districts. I would wager the majority of the champions have some kind of formal training, and they’re all from either the guild districts or the Minor Court districts.”

“Without a doubt.” They laugh. “But not even the Star can claim the kind of knowledge I have of the Minor Courts. The other champions certainly don’t come close. I’m a Sword, Kestrel, and not just any Sword, but the Page of Swords. We deal in knowledge the way the Garnet Guild deals in gems.”

I can’t really argue that, can I? The Swords are known for several things—their inability to lie, their presiding over judgments of various criminal cases, and their plethora of knowledge. I lean against the wall next to Vesper, mirroring their body language. “You’re only talking to me because none of the other alliances want you.” If Cato truly isn’t a lure for the Chariot, he’s in a very similar situation. No one will trust him, just as no one will trust us.

“I won’t lie; that’s absolutely part of it.” Vesper toys with the sharp point of their shoulder armor. “Luck is a powerful magic, but I’m not inclined to put my fate entirely in the hands of the Wheel of Fortune. I didn’t enter the Trials just to die in the street.” They pause. “What if we have an alliance tonight, on a temporary basis? If things go well, then we can discuss what a proper alliance would look like tomorrow.”

The Emperor staggers past, still drinking deeply from his cup. The evidence of his inebriation is there in the bright spots in his cheeks and the way he lurches wildly from side to side. I can’t fathom drinking during the Trials at all, let alone drinking enough to lose this much control. “He’ll be dead before morning.”

“Yes, and it will be his former alliance that cuts him down.” Vesper motions to where the Fool stands, watching the Emperor with an expression that makes my skin crawl. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that.

I muscle past the instinctive rejection and make myself think seriously about Vesper’s offer. They have a point—several points. An alliance would serve us both well, especially since we won’t be sneaking out of our respective temples tonight, but will all be in a central location. I glance at them. “Is it true that Swords can’t lie?”