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Vesper is right in this, though; I can’t afford another misstep. “Get away from her.”

The Fool stiffens and turns slowly. The moment he’s facing me, not her, the Hermit slips away. She doesn’t even look back to ensure I can take care of myself. Chagrin twists my stomach, but it doesn’t matter if Vesper was right in this as well. Watching the Fool menace the small woman and doing nothing was wrong.

He’s easily as tall as Death, as tall as the Tower, but he’s wider than both of them combined. Huge muscles rope his arms and his chest presses against the deceptively simple white tunic he wears. Worst of all is the sheer emptiness in his eyes. They were empty last night, too, even when his face was that of a monster.

“Mind your business, Moon. I’m not interested in tangling with you before nightfall.” His gaze skates over me, leaving a sensation like slime in its wake. It’s everything I can do not to shudder in response. “Unless you’re interested in a little private entertainment.”

“She’s not.”

I jolt at the sound of the Tower behind me. I was so focused on the Fool, I didn’t hear him approach. I certainly didn’t feel him the way I do now, standing a few inches too close.

The Fool doesn’t immediately back down. He tilts his head to the side and studies us. Finally, he laughs softly. “Have fun with that while she’s still warm. I’m going to rip her throat out with my teeth the first chance I get.”

I watch him walk away, fear a live thing inside me. So much fucking fear. I want to believe our plan will work, but how can it when the Fool will be hunting me? Our victory depends on stealth, and he’s the one champion left who can detect me through my shadows. He smelled me and Vesper last night; I’m certain of it.

Frustrated beyond belief, I turn and shove the Tower back. Or I try to. In reality, he catches my wrists, holding my hands to his chest. His clear strength only amplifies my messy emotions. “I did not need your help.”

“I know. I helped because I wanted to.” Unlike all the people I’ve met since climbing the hill, the Tower speaks frankly. I know I can’t trust his words, but there’s a part of me that finds them familiar all the same. He reminds me of Mara, a little. Blunt to the point where many people take it as insult. Gods, everything reminds me of Mara today. I miss her so fucking much.

“Dance with me,” the Tower says. He doesn’t give me much of a choice, using his grip on my wrists to tug me onto the dance floor. The shift to dancing is seamless, too, which only irritates me further. I’m caged by his hand on my hip and the other holding my hand, his grip firm enough that I can’t escape it but just on the correct side of painful.

“I don’t understand you,” I snarl.

“Do you need to?” He sounds genuinely curious. As if it’s as simple as that.

I glare up into his perfect face. He’s not smiling now, which is the only reason I allow him to continue to guide me across the dance floor, effortlessly avoiding the other pairs. “Are you interested because Death told you to keep an eye on me?” It’s a stab in the dark. If I can’t corner Death to get more information out of him, maybe the Tower knows something I can use. Like why Death doesn’t seem intent on killing me the way I expected.

The Tower ignores my question, his expression contemplative. “Working with the Wheel is a good choice. They’re not a warrior, but they’re savvy in the ways of the Minor Court. It will be a useful alliance after you become Cinque.”

I blink. “What are you on about?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing here?” His crooked smile makes a brief appearance. “None of us want to die.”

“Well … no.” When he puts it like that, it’s rather obvious. To give myself something to do that isn’t staring into his dark brown eyes, I study his clothing. Leather, leather, and more leather, all dyed a deep gray that’s almost black. The only ornamentation is the wickedly curved black metal armor cresting off his shoulder. “I’ve never seen armor like yours before.”

“Why would you?” He spins me out and pulls me back a little too hard. I stumble and end up plastered against his chest. He smells … cold. I don’t know how else to explain it. The kind of cold that creeps through the cracks in windows and doors and steals your breath right from your lungs. “Why don’t you ask me the question you really want to?”

I forget to move. I forget to do anything at all. I simply stare up at him. “Where are you from? It’s not Caelria. I’d wager what little money I have on it.”

His gaze drops to my mouth for the barest moment before meeting my gaze. A slight shift and we’re dancing again, easily sliding into the rhythm of the couples around us. “I’m from a river settlement to the north.” A shadow passes over his face. “Or I used to be. It no longer exists.”

Whatever happened in that settlement, he holds severe guilt about it. It’s what Judgment was able to leverage against him in the fight the first night, though it didn’t save Judgment in the end. “Why would you come all the way here and risk your life like this?”

“I could ask the same question of you. You’re not the same as the others here.” He spins us. He’s an even better dancer than he was last night, picking up the steps and rhythm far faster than I have. When he catches me again, I focus on the silvery scars marking his pale knuckles. He’s been a fighter for a long time.

“Because I’m a Dreg Rat.” I can’t quite keep the bitterness out of my tone. “I have as much right to be part of the Cinque as anyone else. The Concilium crafts the laws and policies that affect Caelria—including the Dregs. We deserve a voice.”

“Not just Caelria.” Another spin, his hand firm on my back to keep me steady. “All of Zaersia bends to Caelria’s whims. This city holds the only access to trade—with Xiv, between Grexium and Perphodia, and among the river settlements. The other cities may have some bargaining power because they produce resources Caelria can’t. The river settlements don’t, even when we’re selling them their precious wood.”

I’ve never thought of it like that. Honestly, the river settlements might as well be in Xiv for how foreign they are to me. To live in a place without a wall, to know your loved ones could fall prey to any monster slithering out of the wilds at any moment? It sounds like something out of a nightmare. Life in the Dregs is hardly perfect, but at least our predators are of the human variety. More challenging to spot sometimes, but easier to fight.

My damned curiosity gets the best of me. Again. “As a member of the Cinque, would you push to grant the river settlements refuge behind the walls?”

“No.” He scoffs. “If they wanted to be in a city, they would be. It’s easy enough to come down the river when you have lumber to sell. But they deserve a voice, the same as those in the Dregs do. To be given fair trade agreements.”

I can’t argue that. Caelria may technically exist as its own city-state, but he’s right—its policies affect the entire continent and trade across the Coeruleus Sea. Wasn’t I just marveling at the wood paneling in this building? It came from a river settlement, just like the Tower did. “I don’t understand you,” I whisper. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I think you understand me better than you want to.” He matches my tone, and suddenly this entire conversation is too intimate. “We’re two outsiders. No matter what games the Minor Court play, they won’t relish either of us becoming Cinque.”