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“The Wheel works in mysterious ways.”

I roll my eyes and lean back. “You’re a Sword. You don’t even believe in the Wheel of Fortune.”

“I joined the Tarot Trials. Of course I believe in them.” Vesper is beginning to reveal themself as an interesting puzzle. A Minor Court noble, born to the Swords and having risen to become page at a relatively young age. More than that, they’re familiar enough with the Cups District to know where the servant passageways are. They also seem to respect the old gods, which is more than passing rare from those in the Minor Court.

It doesn’t matter. I might be reckless—desperate—enough to attempt an alliance with them, but I’m not fool enough to become entangled in anything more complicated. There’s too much at stake. The cost is too high. “Convenient.”

“No one can deny the old gods exist. It’s baked into the very foundation of Caelria; how we track the years, the Trials giving the gods a voice in the Concilium, the magic itself.”

“Pretty to say, but we both know the Minor Court holds no love for the old gods. They aren’t your gods.”

They shrug. “Politics and religious differences. There’s always been tension between the two groups of worshippers.”

Tension. I suppose you could say that. It doesn’t change how dissatisfying their answer is. “If the gods are still present and using the Cinque as their voices, they’re doing a shit job of looking out for the rest of the population.”

“We’ll give them a better voice when we win.”

Just like that. “You’re a Sword.”

“Yes, which means I’ve been trained to think. I’ve never met a mystery I didn’t want to explore, and the old gods are the biggest of them all. My court doesn’t like to prod too deeply into their worship, but there is information there that could help the entire city. I’m sure of it.” I start to step away, but they grab my hand again and link their fingers with mine. “Remember. Don’t let go of me, Kestrel.”

My heart does a strange thump that I’m determined to ignore. They sound almost as idealistic as Mara accuses me of being. I can’t be sure whether it’s the mystery or the possibility of helping that puts the fervor into their tone, but I’d bet money on the former. “Let’s keep moving.”

“Very well.” Vesper leads me out of the alcove and we continue in the same direction we’d been headed before the Fool drove us into hiding. A few more turns and an awkward climb up a short ladder—during which I keep a hand clasped around Vesper’s ankle—and we emerge back into the night.

I instinctively pull the shadows to us, dampening the sounds as I close the hatch and look around. The roof is flat and contains half a dozen short structures I instantly recognize as greenhouses.

Before I can stop myself, I move to one, all but dragging Vesper behind me, and press my palm to its wall. The glass is still warm from the late evening Sun. Or maybe they have advanced technology to keep the temperature regulated. They wouldn’t need it at this time of year, but winters in Caelria can be harsh. Surely glass alone isn’t enough to keep the plants within safe and flourishing?

“You have so much.” I don’t mean to say it. I don’t mean to say a lot of things these days. “So much and it never quite makes its way down the hill to the rest of us.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Vesper squeezes my hand. “We can talk about it later, but you can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

Maybe I should have come to the court districts earlier, should have inured myself to their casual opulence before joining the Trials. I snort. As if I wouldn’t have been run off the hill the moment a Wands patrol laid eyes on me.

A boom sounds in the distance as a light flares so bright I have to bring up my free hand to shield my eyes. “The Sun is fighting.” I won’t admit any sort of relief in realizing he got out of the Cups tower alive.

“His name is Cato.” Vesper says it neutrally. “He could be a valuable ally.”

I shoot them a glare. “I’m pretty sure he only joined the Trials to support the Chariot. If he’s the fifth in their alliance, the Chariot is using him as a lure to eliminate other champions. We can’t trust him.”

They shake their head. “That’s not how the Chariot works. He comes at problems in the most direct way, no matter the obstacles in place.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I mentioned this in the carriage the first day; I’ve been sitting in on Concilium meetings for years. I am more than passingly familiar with the Cinque. The Star will always get someone else to do her dirty work—and make them think it’s their idea. Judgment was cruel for the sake of cruelty. Death keeps his own counsel and makes strategic moves that serve his long-term plans, whatever they are. I know how the Chariot moves.”

They make a fair point, both in this argument and in further demonstrating their value in the Trials and beyond. Even so, I’m not willing to believe it’s pure coincidence Cato joined the Trials after being an enforcer for the Chariot. “That just means Cato is playing the long game.” I refuse to be so foolish as to think he won’t turn on us to curry favor with the Chariot the first chance he gets. “Watch. It will be him and the Chariot at the end.”

“Kestrel.” Vesper waits for me to look at them. If they had hope and naivete shining from their dark eyes, I could discount the argument they’re clearly putting together in the silence between us. But they sound perfectly practical when they continue. “Between the two of us, we have stealth, luck, and knowledge of the area. What we’re missing is offensive magic. Of those remaining, Cato is the best option for an ally. He’s hungry but he’s too brash for the other champions to work with—and the Chariot watches him like he’s a rabid dog to be put down, not like an ally. There’s a reason he sought you out at the party. He’s out of options.”

I don’t like what they’re saying, mostly because I don’t like Cato. “It won’t matter if he’s willing to enter an alliance if we die trying to get to him right now.”

“You heard the Fool earlier. If he lives to see tomorrow, which I find highly likely because his mangled body isn’t in the street below us, then he’s coming for you. You insulted and humiliated him in front of the other champions. He won’t let that go.” They shrug as if they’re completely unbothered. Only the tension in their palm against mine gives the lie to the facade. “You saw his claws, his fangs. Without offensive magic, our chances of surviving a fight with him drop dramatically.”

I open my mouth to call them a liar, but stop. Vesper is a Sword. They can’t lie without great pain. It doesn’t mean they’re not lying now, even if there’s no indication to show it, but they have no reason to lie about this. We both saw exactly how dangerous the Fool is. I had the same thoughts about my chances of winning a fight against him. He’s after me. All Vesper has to do is drop me to better their chances; instead, they’re trying to convince me to make our alliance stronger. “If I had moonbeams, I might be more willing to wade into the fight to save the Sun.…”

Vesper smiles a little. “That’s a lie, Kestrel.”