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By that logic, both Death and the Chariot should become Cinque—Judgment, too. But he died the first night, and we fully intend to kill the Chariot tonight. I want to share Cato’s and Vesper’s confidence that we’ll pull it off without one of us going down in the process, but it’s difficult. All I can see are the many ways this could go wrong, just like everything else has gone wrong.
It’s almost a relief when the Knight of Wands raises their hands, rings flashing on both their thumbs, summoning us. “Looks like it’s time to go,” I mutter.
“Finally.” Cato motions for us to precede him. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Champions.” The Knight of Wands is a tall person with cool beige skin, straight black hair, and a deceptively petite body. They’re smiling, but something in the depths of their dark brown eyes makes me think they’d be happiest in the middle of a brawl. Charming in the same way all the representatives of the courts seem to be, but not doing as good a job of covering up how little they respect us. “The Wands Court congratulates you on your success so far in the Tarot Trials. Please allow us to extend our hospitality to you this afternoon.”
Even as I tell myself to keep my attention on the Wands, I scan the remaining champions. The Star and the High Priestess, dressed as if about to attend a ball instead of a night of violence. The Chariot, large and burly and completely at ease, his ruddy skin even redder under the warm Sun. The Magician, appearing haunted with their shoulders bowed and head down. Death, as unbothered as he always seems, wearing what appears to be an identical uniform to the one he’s had on every other time I’ve seen him—black, black, and more black, without a single bit of ornamentation in sight.
And the Tower.
He’s not looking at the Wands, either. He’s staring directly at me, his onyx eyes intense in a way I don’t know how to deal with. We’ve had a handful of conversations and, even if I am attracted to him and in alignment with his long-term plans, we are still on opposing sides. He wants Death to become Cinque. I don’t. Even if we both somehow survive the Trials, we’ll be diving straight into deep and dangerous political waters. There’s no time for romance. There’s barely time for lust, and that requires a level of trust I don’t have with any of the champions. Even my allies.
Cato whistles under his breath. “Damn, Moon. I can’t tell if he wants to fuck you or carve your heart right out of your chest with that big blade of his.”
“Might be both,” Vesper murmurs.
I can’t tear my gaze away from the Tower—from Nero. “Neither of you are helping.”
“Not trying to.” Cato sounds like he’s enjoying himself, but then he always seems to enjoy himself when he’s not irritated with Vesper or me interfering with his plans. “Maybe you should fuck him. If we could break his alliance with Death, you could get your wish to kill Death. With the Tower at our side, we’d be all but guaranteed to win.”
I jerk my attention to him. “You must be joking.”
“I’m not.” He shrugs, completely unrepentant. “We all use what tools we have available to us. Sex isn’t any less virtuous than violence or manipulation. Whatever gets the job done. If it keeps us alive, I’m not going to give you shit about it.”
He’s being practical in a way I might appreciate if the circumstances were different. “I’m not saying sex isn’t a valid tool. But you can’t honestly think that sex with me is going to magically turn him against Death. He killed three champions the first night just to be in that alliance. He won’t give it up.”
“You’re underestimating yourself. I’m sure you’re more than capable enough in bed to turn his head.”
“That is also not what I’m saying,” I sputter. “Stop twisting my words.”
“But you’re so cute when you blush.”
“He almost killed her the first night,” Vesper offers helpfully. “Sunrise got there first, and Death stopped him from being eliminated by breaking the rules. The second night, I’m nearly certain he saved us from the Fool before going after you. And the way he looks at her when they dance.” Vesper fans themself.
“You are not helping,” I snap.
“Of course I am. I’m exceedingly helpful.”
The Knight of Wands continues speaking, and I’ve never been so thankful for a court member to run their mouth. They motion to the bridge to the south. “We’ve arranged for transport. Please make your way to the carriages.”
“The Wands will likely take us to the arena. They love their vigorous displays of violence, and they won’t pass up on an opportunity to show off.” Vesper sighs. “It’s going to be a long walk back to the island before sunrise.”
“Feels intentional,” Cato says. “In a number of ways.”
“Always.” Vesper starts forward, following the champions out of the courtyard and across the bridge to the south, where several carriages wait. Unlike the ones that brought us here from the arena the first day, these aren’t in pristine condition and pulled by matching sets of horses. They’re dusty and worn … and I’ve seen their like before.
I stop short, twenty-five years of living in the Dregs insisting I put as much distance between me and those carriages as possible. “I’m not getting into one of those. That’s what they use to transport prisoners.”
“They’re being petty and trying to send a message.” Cato’s hand is on my back, propelling me forward despite my attempts to dig in my heels. “Don’t let them know it bothers you. Come on.”
I don’t have a choice. That much is clear. It’s strange how little being herded bothered me with the Pentacles and Cups, but the Wands and I have a long history. Not these Wands, but it doesn’t matter. I desperately don’t want to get into these carriages, even with Vesper and Cato at my side.
But I do. And then the feeling of being trapped grows as the Knight of Wands swings up behind us and shuts the door. They settle in next to Vesper with a casual arrogance that sets my teeth on edge. Too familiar, too clearly enjoying taking up too much space. “Fancy seeing you here, Vesper.”
“Nonnie,” Vesper says stiffly. “It’s amazing you haven’t managed to kill yourself during one of these little events you host.”
“Now, now, don’t go giving away the surprise.” Nonnie flicks their bruised fingers at me and Cato, but their attention seems to be focused almost entirely on Vesper. “You know, when I saw you step up to become the champion of the Wheel of Fortune, I could hardly credit it. You wouldn’t have become Page of Swords if not for the fact your parents are the king and queen; surely you were smart enough to know you can’t survive the Trials.”
