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“Good.” I gently rest my head back on the grate. “That’s good.” If they’d figured out where we were, we would have been easy pickings.

“We won’t abuse your powers like this again.” They run their thumb over my knuckles. I hadn’t realized our fingers were still laced together. Vesper smiles tightly. “But we survived the night.”

“We did.” We escaped the trap of the Cups tower, avoided being murdered by the Fool, managed to steal a kill from the Tower and Death, and successfully hid for hours. How many other champions didn’t?

Cato groans faintly and goes still when he realizes he’s pressed against my side. “Moon.”

“Kestrel,” Vesper corrects. “If we’re going to be allies, use her proper name.”

He manages to sit up without falling over, an accomplishment currently beyond my abilities. He looks down at me, and I can actually see him contemplating killing us now. All he has to do is toss us into the water I can hear below. It might take time to tire enough to drown, but a sunbeam or two to help us along and he’d have two fewer champions to deal with tomorrow night.

Cato looks away. “I thought I was finished.”

“You were.” Vesper is still rubbing my knuckles in soothing strokes.

“I held my own for longer than any other champion they’ve faced.”

For fuck’s sake, his pride is massive enough to choke on. I shoot Vesper a look, but they pointedly ignore it. This is the answer to our problems? “If you changed your mind about an alliance, you’re free to leave,” I grit out. “Maybe the Chariot will still take you.” I can’t stand being on my back while they both sit over me, so I fight my way up as well as I can. My bones feel brittle. I really, really hope that sensation is all in my head. If my magic saps my actual strength … well, I didn’t have much to begin with. My reserves are almost nonexistent. “Or maybe not.”

“What Kestrel means,” Vesper cuts in, “is that we’re interested in taking you up on your offer of an alliance. We could make a good team.”

Cato still isn’t looking at us. “I already told you—I’d rather die than work with the Chariot.” His shoulders are tight, even though he has to be just as exhausted as I am. I understand that, though. Show no weakness.

“We believe you.” Vesper’s tone goes carefully soothing. “That’s why we came for you.”

Cato leans against the wall next to me, our feet hanging over the edge of the ledge. “We need a plan.”

“That ship has sailed,” I snap. “Dawn is almost here.”

Once again, Vesper is the voice of reason, steady and even. “Cato has a point. It would behoove us to have a plan for sunset.”

I understand bringing Cato into this alliance is part of the plan, but I don’t like how he’s immediately trying to take charge. No matter how well he might balance our skills, I still don’t trust him. With how quickly he suggested making a plan, he clearly has an agenda. “Fine. What’s your pitch?”

“We go after the Chariot.”

I try to exchange a look with Vesper—this is not a fucking plan—but they’re too busy frowning at Cato. I roll my eyes. “If you’re trying to convince us you’re not a lure, this is a shitty way to do it.”

“I’m not a fucking lure.” He sneers. “He needs to die.”

“No one is arguing that,” Vesper murmurs. “But if his alliance is still intact, it presents a near-impossible challenge for us currently. It would be wiser to pick one of the solo champions.”

“Not to mention the Chariot is one of the Cinque. He’s been using his powers regularly for two decades.” Like Death. Like the Star. Like Judgment. I shudder. “There are easier targets.”

“I don’t want to be part of the same Cinque he is.”

I glance at Vesper and they give a small nod. I don’t know how foolproof the Swords’ truth-telling magic is, but I have no choice but to trust them. Cato is telling the truth. He hates the Chariot and wants him dead. I suppose I can understand why.

The Chariot is the stuff of legends. Like Judgment, he took his power and used it to bludgeon those beneath him. Where Judgment created mock trials to eliminate his enemies, the Chariot took a more traditional approach. He operated the same way the gang leaders in the Dregs do, muscling his way into money and power with violence and threats. He just happened to turn that violence and those threats onto the lowest rung of the merchants, the ones who didn’t have guilds to protect them.

I won’t ask what the Chariot has done to Cato personally. We might be allies for the time being, but we aren’t friends. I don’t need to know his secrets in order to use his powers to get to the end of the Trials. But I understand him now, just as I did earlier tonight. “I don’t want to be part of a Cinque with Death, either.” Or any of the previous Cinque, my mother’s former alliance. “But unless you have a detailed plan on how to accomplish either of those things, it would be smarter to focus on other champions.”

“For now,” Vesper cuts in. “Every night, the number of champions will dwindle. There will need to be two additional winners beyond our alliance. If you don’t want Death and the Chariot among them, we’ll need to act relatively quickly.”

“I don’t have a plan yet,” Cato admits. He scrubs a hand over his shaved head. “But I’ve lived under the Chariot’s thumb for most of my life. No one in the Trials has that kind of information on him—not even the remaining members of the Cinque.”

“A valid point,” Vesper muses. They glance upward, clearly tracking the passing time. “If you tell me everything you know, I might be able to find an angle for attack that would give us the best chance of success. None of us are going to accomplish much without a meal and some sleep, though. We can meet before the next event and discuss further plans.”

“That’s still not a plan.” It’s so difficult not to close my eyes. They feel so heavy, as if the very air is urging them shut. “That’s a dream. We don’t even know if we can work together effectively, and it’s not as if we’re going to have any time to practice.”