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Staring up at the Tower gives me the same sensation as peering into the wilds and knowing there’s a predator lurking in the shadows. I can see the Tower, but he’s not normal. Vesper and Cato and even Death and the Star are each unknowable, but they’re still familiar in a way I’m starting to understand the Tower isn’t. I don’t know what it means … but it scares me.

I can’t say his name again. Doing so feels like it would be agreeing to something I absolutely cannot back up. “Let me go,” I say softly. “Now.”

“I’ll let you go.” He releases me slowly, his fingertips drifting over my hip and wrist. “This time.”

The Hermit perfectly demonstrates how redundant so many of the old gods are when it comes to their domains. By all rights, Their responsibilities—if you can call them that—overlap with the Hierophant, the High Priestess, and even the Magician to some degree. Which just further reinforces how superior the primordial elements are.

—EXCERPT FROM THE MAJOR ARCANA: A TREATISE ON THE HISTORY OF THE OLD GODS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I TRY TO FLEE the dance floor, but the Page of Pentacles catches my hand and sweeps me into his arms with ease. I glare up into his handsome face, irritated beyond measure not to have gotten away cleanly. I could push him off, but that would be shortsighted. Everyone else is thinking about what comes after the Trials. I need to be, too.

“Hello again, Champion Moon.” The Page of Pentacles smiles down at me, his amber eyes warm in a way I don’t entirely trust. “I mentioned earlier that you were a surprise. You continue to be. Is the Hermit an ally?”

“No.”

“And yet you went to her rescue without hesitation.”

At least I didn’t attack the Fool at another party. I’d like to say I’m learning, but the Tower scared him off before things could escalate. “You’re the host of this party. You should have beaten me there.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He laughs. “However, the Fool broke no rules, and interfering in champion business is ill-advised.”

Vesper may have spoken about this page with distant fondness, but he’s just as privileged and protected as the rest of the Minor Court citizens. More so, really, because he’s part of the Pentacles Court. “If not you, then who?”

“Who indeed?” He spins me easily, every move perfect. “The answer is apparently you. I heard about the little stunt you pulled with the Fool yesterday at the Cups party. I would like to discourage you from doing the same here. We can’t abide violence before nightfall.”

“Unless you consider this dance violence, you have nothing to worry about.”

Another spin, so careful to keep me from getting dizzy. His smile fades, replaced by what appears to be sincerity. “Should you become one of the Cinque, what can the Pentacles Court offer you to align your interests with ours?”

Another part of this I failed to prepare for. The Garnet yesterday mostly ignored me, and the Cup only interfered to keep things from escalating. This is the first member of the Minor Court or guilds who is showing active interest in what my long-term plans may be. I’m not naive enough to tell him what the Tower and I spoke of during the last dance, of giving a voice to the voiceless. “I’m from the Dregs. What can you offer my home?”

“Ah, the Dregs.” The page studies my expression. “We’ve failed them as a city.”

Of all the things I expected him to say … “What?”

“Come now, Moon.” He laughs softly, the sound gaining an edge. “I may be privileged but I have eyes to see. I’m sure the abundance you’ve witnessed among the Minor Court districts sits ill at ease. Apologizing for privilege is hardly worth the air the words require to be voiced, but for all that—I am sorry.”

I bite down on my instinctive desire to cut him off at the knees. A page doesn’t have a position to vote in the Concilium, but he’s still part of the Pentacles Court. If he’s a potential ally, then I’d be a fool to tell him to shove his apology up his ass. No matter how much I want to. I swallow down my rage and try to channel Vesper’s coolness. “Your apology is a good start. There’s a lot of work to be done. Should I become Cinque, I can’t guarantee to always align with Pentacles interests, but if you’re considering the Dregs, then we have a much more likely chance of working together seamlessly.”

“I would like that.” His amber eyes light up. “I actually have some ideas about food distribution, if you’re willing to hear them. I know the Dregs doesn’t get nearly enough sunlight for most plants, but my cousin is developing a new variety of leafy greens that needs less time in the Sun than normal. If we could work on the infrastructure in the Dregs, we could bring greenhouses there the same way they are in the rest of the city.”

What he’s suggesting would change so many lives for the better. Greenhouses might not last in the Dregs as it stands now because they’re rare and people are desperate. If there was an intentional push to bring some of the Minor Court resources down the hill, people wouldn’t have to fight each other over slivers of nothing. It will take time and effort to unlearn that desperation, but something akin to true hope blooms inside me. “I would very much like to hear all your ideas—after the Trials.”

“Right. Yes. It would be silly to monopolize your time during the party.” Watching him get flustered makes him feel a little more human to me. Less an enemy for possessing everything while me and mine have nothing, and more of a privileged man who is at least aware of the imbalance between where we each call home.

The page sweeps me to the edge of the dance floor and deposits me there. He takes my hand in both of his. “For what it’s worth, I hope you survive to become one of the Cinque. It would be good to have members of the Concilium who are worried about the underrepresented parts of the city, rather than just out for themselves. I’m sorry if my talk of betting was in poor taste earlier. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

“It’s okay.” Accepting this particular apology is easy enough; I don’t care about what he thinks of me or the circumstances of my becoming the Moon. “Betting is practically the only pastime in the Dregs.”

“So I hear. My name is Elisio. It’s been a true delight to meet you.” He pats the top of my hand, but doesn’t let me go. “Oh, and Moon?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.” He finally releases me and turns to melt into the growing crowd on the dance floor.

I turn to look for Vesper, but a tall figure in red-pink robes catches my eye. Guild Master Fox. They don’t have a dance partner, and as much as I would like to get off the damned dance floor, my curiosity about them has me crossing the distance between us. “Would you honor me with a dance?”