Page 69
“It would be foolish to consider Death a tool.” I relent immediately, though. My head is still spinning, but I can no longer cling to my determination to eliminate Death. I know he killed my mother, but Mouse painted the picture of a cold and unfeeling executioner. Death clearly regrets being the hand that took her head. I’ll never forgive him for doing it, but this mystery goes deeper than I first realized. “But I agree. We focus on the Chariot, and then we see where things land by sunrise.”
Cato nods. “First, we have to get through whatever the Wands have planned. Just keep that stone face in place and don’t react, no matter what happens this afternoon.”
Easier said than done. Every new day brings additional complications to deal with. I didn’t expect to find friends among the Minor Court, but even I’m a little rattled that the Wands showed up to this party with the clear intention to target me specifically.
But not just me.
“Did Nonnie injure your leg?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from the nerves fluttering in the base of my throat. I hate not knowing all the parameters of a given situation. The Dregs might be a hard way of living, but there are rules there like anywhere else—you just have to learn them. The Minor Court seems to be playing with a different set of rules than the rest of us. I knew that. I’m not a fool. But even I didn’t expect them to interfere with the champions during the Trials themselves.
“I’ll be able to keep up just fine tonight,” Vesper says stiffly.
Cato makes a sound of dissatisfaction. “That’s not what she asked, Vesper.”
They sigh and slump back in their chair. “There is no injuring my leg further. I’ll be bruised and particularly sore from Nonnie’s little stunt, but it’s no worse than they’ve done to me in the past. It’s not as if they pushed me in front of a carriage.” The way they say the last part has the feeling of a stone gone smooth from someone running their thumb over it for decades, rubbing down the sharp edges, and yet it’s still a stone, hard and unforgiving.
Once again, Cato is the driving force of the question I don’t dare ask. “Is that how it happened? Your leg?”
“This conversation is deeply boring.” When neither of us says anything, they roll their eyes. “Yes, in fact. I was six. One of my aunts had the very shortsighted belief that horrifically injuring me would distract my mother so she might be easy pickings. She underestimated my mother, but I paid the price all the same. The carriage crushed my leg, and even with the most skilled physicians available from the Pentacles Court, this is the best they could do. I’m told it’s a miracle I’m able to walk at all. Some days, I even appreciate that.” Once again, they speak by rote, reciting the facts as if they happened to someone else.
Six. Six. That’s the same age as Fawn, and even if Vesper was guaranteed to be healthier and better fed at that age, they were still so tiny. Fawn barely comes up to my hip. We found her wandering the street a few years ago, looking for her mother. I suspect the woman is dead, but it’s not unheard of for parents to abandon their kids and disappear to the Dregs in different parts of the city. It’s not as if anyone keeps track of the comings and goings of people like us.
I don’t understand how someone can look at a child and want to do anything but protect them. To coldly put together a plan that might kill them solely in an attempt to steal a title? To do it to family? “Is that aunt still alive?”
Vesper smiles thinly. “No. My mother compelled her confession and executed her personally.”
I want to ask other questions, to know if the intimidating Queen of Swords sat next to her child’s bedside and nursed Vesper back to health. If Vesper felt safe in their own court after that. If … It’s not my business. They only offered up this information because of Cato’s question, not because they wanted to share.
Vesper clears their throat, indicating they’re finished with this topic. “There are several ways out of the arena. We’ll want to avoid retreating the way we came in. The Wands are sure to make passage difficult, even if they’re not technically allowed to interfere. The rest of the champions will likely attempt to leave that way, which will put us in too close quarters.”
“Agreed,” Cato says. He’s still watching them the same way I’ve caught him watching me from time to time, as if his opinion of Vesper has shifted again with the new information offered. I don’t know what that new opinion is, but he’s focused on the plan, and that’s enough for now.
“That leaves us with two options.” They flick their fingers toward the sand. “They bring in their gladiators from the trio of doors directly across from us. That’s the way they took us out after the Culling. Each door leads to a warren of cells and hallways, but I have the layout memorized. I can guide us through.”
There’s a lot of open space to cross before we can reach that exit. It presents a similar problem to retreating the way we came in, but I agree it’s the best option of the two. “What’s the second?”
“Less viable, but see those low gaps around the edge?”
I follow their gaze. What I previously thought were shadows from the overhead Sun are, in fact, low gaps. They’re narrow, less than a foot tall, and in between each support beam. “What are those?”
Cato is the one to answer. “Sometimes they flood the arena and make the inmates fight on makeshift boats, but they need a way to drain it afterward. The gaps can be closed during those fights, keeping the water inside. They’re opened again to remove the water and wreckage. And bodies, I guess.”
I hold up my hands. Before the Trials, I’d known about the arena—everyone knows about the arena—but that doesn’t mean I had all the information. You don’t need to know every detail of the monster hunting you in order to know to avoid it. If me and mine never got caught by the Wands, we never had to worry about ending up here. It was far more likely we’d lose a hand—the punishment for stealing. But this is too much. The sheer waste they’re speaking of makes my head hurt. “They flood the arena.”
“It’s clever, actually. They have a way to divert from the river to fill it, and then they drain it the same way, but downriver.” Vesper is still studying the sand before us. “A Pentacle created the system. The Wands could never.”
Strangely enough, that actually calms me a little. They’re not diverting drinking water into this place for their bloody entertainment; the only people who drink from the Saevus or Verso Rivers are the desperate or suicidal. They must have been clean at some point, back before the founding of Caelria and the creation of the walls that protect us from the wilds.
These days, all the runoff of the Citrine, Diamond, and Garnet guilds is dumped into the river. To say nothing of the sewers. It contaminates a good portion of the bay, especially during low tide. We’re close enough to the Peridot District that I have to constantly remind the kids not to sneak out to swim. As if the tides weren’t dangerous enough, they’re all but guaranteed to exit the water sick with something from the chemicals and waste they’d come in contact with.
I understand what Vesper is suggesting, and shake my head. “If we go that route, we might as well stay here and let the other champions slit our throats. We’ll end up plague-ridden.”
“I agree, but it’s worth considering all options in case things go poorly. A slit throat is guaranteed to kill you. The plague is only mostly likely to result in death.”
Only mostly likely is still long odds. I swallow down my instinctive sharp reply. “We’ll go through one of the prisoners’ doors.”
A great grinding sound stills the murmur of conversation in the arena. I look around, taking in the hungry way the Wands watch the sand. They hardly look human, their expressions nearly violent with anticipated ecstasy.
The King of Wands stands before us with arms raised. When she speaks, she manages to project her voice in a way I suspect reaches even the farthest corners of the arena. “Thank you for attending this showing during the Trials. We’ve prepared something special for both you and the champions. I truly hope you enjoy.” She smiles, the expression cold and just as hungry as those of the other Wands spectating. “We all know how our arena operates, but for those new among our number, I’ll explain.”
