Page 27
Vesper snorts. “That’s not precisely accurate. We can taste the truth of others’ words. As with all magic, that inherited trait comes with a hefty cost. It hurts us to lie, the worst kind of pain you can imagine, down deep where there’s no alleviating.”
I consider their words, contemplate the layers there. “Are Swords trained to weather the pain without outward signs?”
They raise their brows. “Not just a pretty face, are you?”
I’m blushing and I don’t know why. “That’s not an answer.”
“I know.” Vesper smiles. “But you already knew the answer when you asked the question.”
Yeah, I suppose I did. As the music dies down to something clearly meant to be background noise instead of provoking dancing, I check on the other champions. They’ve all stopped dancing and are drifting together in their formed alliances. The Tower and Death stand against the wall on the other side of the room, watching the others the same way I am.
The Star chats easily with the High Priestess, the Chariot, and the Hermit. I’m not entirely certain what the Hermit and the High Priestess can do, but I want to avoid the two former Cinque after nightfall at all costs. The World and the Hierophant watch the Fool warily. For his part, he seems entirely focused on the Emperor, now sprawled drunkenly in a chair at the edge of the near-empty dance floor. I can’t find the Magician or the Devil in the crowd at all, which just means they’re smarter than the rest of us.
No single alliance has five people, which is interesting from a strategic point of view. It gives them the ability to flex and bring in an additional champion as needed. Or maybe they’re taking a page from Death’s book and waiting to see how the singular champions make an accounting of themselves. He clearly doesn’t care about forming a Cinque to his specifications the way the other two larger alliances do.
Despite his earlier words, I half expected Cato to stand with the Chariot’s group, but he stands alone. It doesn’t prove anything. He would be a poor lure to make his alliance clear … unless he’s telling the truth. The Chariot certainly isn’t looking at him like Cato is an ally; he’s studying him the way a predator studies their prey. The Fool’s alliance isn’t any better, practically vibrating with anticipation as they watch him. Cato is a study in indifference. He lifts his head, staring up at the stained-glass windows above us.
I follow his gaze and finally register the faint buzzing in my mind. Night is almost here. The sky is no longer a bright blue, but edging into purple and darker yet. Not quite sundown, but close enough to make my skin tingle. I turn back to Vesper. “We’re almost out of time.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” They hold out their hand. “I have luck on my side, but I’d like you on my side.”
I stare at their hand, doubting this decision. I know what Mouse would advise me to do. Maybe it’s even the right choice, but … Vesper didn’t kill me last night. In fact, they saved my life by delaying the Tower’s attack. I don’t trust them, but it’s clear they need an ally as much as I do.
Vesper holds my gaze. “I like you, Kestrel. That’s reason enough for me to make this offer, even without the other elements in play.” Their smile doesn’t quite reach their honeyed brown eyes. “I tend to have good instincts when it comes to people.”
I look around the room again, cataloging the way the groups start to ease farther apart … the way the Cups and guild members present earlier suddenly aren’t. They were everywhere when we were eating and dancing, but even though the musicians keep playing, apparently oblivious, the rest of the party seems to have slipped away in the last few minutes as the Sun sinks toward the horizon none of us can see. Avoiding the bloodshed to come.
“I’d be a fool to trust you,” I murmur. The statement feels a little less true every time I say it.
“Maybe. Or maybe you’d be a fool not to.” They watch me closely. “How long do you think you’ll make it on your own?”
That’s the question. I wish I had an optimistic answer. When I stepped up on the dais and claimed my spot as the Moon’s avatar, I was filled with an arrogant surety that nothing could stop me. Now, the odds look insurmountable. “Fine. A test alliance for tonight only.”
“That’s all I ask for.”
This might be a trap, but the room we’re in certainly is a trap. I look around again. The doors we came in through are shut. The stained glass—its color leeching away as the Sun takes the light of day with it—is too high overhead to break, let alone climb to. There are windows lower down the wall, but they’re still well above my reach. Maybe if I pushed a table over …
But even if I could scale the wall to a window with the help of some furniture, Vesper certainly can’t. And we’d be exposed in the process, our backs a tempting target for the rest of the champions. There’s no escape for me this time. Not on my own.
I have no choice but to trust Vesper, at least for now. I slap my hand into theirs. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Good girl.” They close their hand tightly around me and yank me forward just as my mind chimes, a soft, sweet sound. The Sun has set fully. I hear a screech behind me and look over my shoulder just as flames burst out from Cato. Or not flames, exactly, but his hands and arms burn white-hot and bright enough to leave echoes across my vision when I turn away. We have to get out of here. Right now.
Vesper keeps a tight hold on my hand and starts heading toward the door. “Stay close.”
We’re moving too slowly. The sounds of fighting rise behind us, but every time I look over my shoulder, I run the risk of tripping over my feet and slowing us further.
At any moment, someone will notice us slipping away and attack. In desperation, I will us to be unseen, for the shadows to rise and cloak our movement. My skin prickles as the shadows attempt to obey my unspoken command, but the sensation fizzles almost as soon as it begins. I can’t help but think of what Death said earlier. If the light of the Moon and stars was too bright for my shadows to conceal me on a rooftop, it’s certainly too bright here with the sconces lining the walls, the gems glittering in the flickering light.
Even so, the other champions seem focused on the fight breaking out in the center of the dance floor between the Fool and the Emperor. I perceive a flash of movement, a spray of blood, and then we’re at the door.
I yank on the handle and curse when it doesn’t turn. “Those bastards locked us in. It’s not going to—”
“Patience, Kestrel.” A tiny spark of purple draws Vesper’s attention away from the door. “This way.”
“But—” I cut off my protest. Either I trust them enough to ally with them tonight or I don’t. We can’t waste time arguing. I give the door handle one last jiggle—it remains stubbornly locked—and then hurry after Vesper. They’re following a nearly imperceptible trail of purple flashes down a different hallway from the one we came in. Near the end, one last purple flash shows a nondescript door, which is clearly used by servants or people the Cups aren’t interested in impressing. And in the lock? A key. I blink. “How did you know—”
“Isn’t it lucky to have found this door and discover that a servant left their key in the lock?” Vesper turns the key in question. The door swings open soundlessly, revealing a dark street and starry sky overhead. They give me one of those tight smiles, as if they’re having the time of their life but are too poised to show it fully, and then yank me through the door and into the night.
