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Vesper shifts, leaning against their cane. “No matter how I feel, Cato isn’t going to be willing to talk to you today. The alliance is all but shattered.”

It’s not what I want to hear, but it’s no more than I expected. “The Tower and Death don’t want to hurt me. It’s safer for both of you if you’re with me. We can hunt the Star and the High Priestess together.”

“Last night disproved that.” They shake their head. “But I still think it’s better to stay together. I’ll talk to Cato. Keep your distance until nightfall and let me see if I can calm him down enough to see reason.”

“It’s going to end tonight,” I say quietly. “One way or another. I don’t want you to die, Vesper—either of you.”

They smile. “I don’t want you to die, either. I’ll talk to him.” They tap their cane on the ground and then move away, heading toward the Sun’s temple.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. It’s a strange relief when I hear the now-familiar sounds of carriages approaching. There’s only two this time, each pristine in maroon and white with silver touches to the details. The horses themselves are white as well, and must have cost a small fortune. Or a large one. I still can’t get over how ridiculous it is to have a matching set—that also matches the carriages themselves. It seems so unnecessary.

The woman who steps out of the first carriage is vaguely familiar from the Culling. The Queen of Swords. Vesper’s mother. It’s interesting that the Swords are the only court to send a queen or king. Did she take this role at the last minute in response to what the Wands put together? But no, Vesper said she had this planned out and chose to be the Minor Court’s last party. If she was that intentional so early on, it stands to reason she planned to be here herself from the start.

She’s wearing ornate armor that actually appears functional, and her natural gray curls fade to black at the ends. Her cool-toned, dark brown skin is flawless and she appears well rested.

Instead of doing a little speech the way the other guides have, she moves from champion to champion, sharing a quiet word with each. A week ago, I would have wondered if she was really this authentically interested in each of us. Now, I see it for the strategy it is. Seven champions remain, and five of us will ascend to Cinque. It’s worth the extra time and energy to potentially gain allies among those who live.

She approaches me after she’s worked through the remaining champions—excepting Cato and Vesper, who still haven’t returned. “Hello, Champion Moon.”

“Hello.”

She smiles easily. “You’ve done well in these Trials. I truly hope you come out victorious. The Concilium could use a breath of fresh air.”

I don’t see you stepping down to allow that breath. I swallow the words. No matter how exhausted and frustrated I am, lashing out at her would be a mistake. I have few allies left, and none among the Minor Court. Elisio may have been receptive to my criticisms, but that doesn’t mean a single damned thing when it comes to action. There’s no reason to insult the Queen of Swords if she might be a potential ally in the future. “I agree. The last Cinque did little enough to enact positive change in Caelria. I intended to make a better showing of myself.”

She laughs, loud and bright. “Ambitious. I can appreciate that.” The queen looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice. “I owe you a boon, Champion Moon.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been informed that you’ve kept my only child alive, saving them not once, but twice.”

Vesper. My skin heats. “They’re my ally.”

“Even so.” She glances toward where Vesper disappeared. “My child is brilliant beyond measure and has dealt admirably with the challenges of being a highly visible member of our family. They were wise to choose you. You’re clearly loyal and more than capable of holding your own, and that’s a priceless thing in an ally.”

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that. This is the second time someone has made it sound like Vesper plucked me out of obscurity to be their attack dog. If I were truly that capable, we wouldn’t have needed Cato. Except you did kill the Hermit and the Chariot. Again, I shove that awful, whispering voice away and do my best to focus on the woman in front of me. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She starts to turn away. “I think you’ll enjoy the afternoon the Swords have planned for you.”

I very much doubt that, but I keep my doubt contained as she walks away, somehow knowing where her child and Cato went, because she disappears around the Sun’s temple.

Even before Nero speaks, I feel him at my back. I don’t even jolt when he says, “You look well today, Kestrel.”

I turn to find him wearing another variation of what he always seems to—clothing that approximates armor in black and gray, a dramatic cape covering only one shoulder. He looks just as good, just as untouchable, as he has since the start. “You look good, er, well, too.” His skin even has a rosy glow from being well rested.

He smiles, flashing me that devastating dimple. “Thank you.”

Before I can embarrass myself further, the Queen of Swords reappears with Cato and Vesper in her wake. “This way, please.” She leads our small group to the carriages, opening the door to the first one with a flourish. Cato and Vesper don’t hesitate to ascend, but the High Priestess and the Star follow before I can even take a step.

The Tower nudges me with his shoulder, the contact so unexpected I just stare at him until he says, “Looks like it’s us in the second carriage.”

I should be happy with a chance to talk to Death and maybe finally get some answers about why he’s moving the way he is in the Trials, but the Queen of Swords clearly intends to ride with us. I may be bristling with questions, but I know better than to ask them in front of her.

We climb into the second carriage without fanfare, and the already small space feels downright claustrophobic once the door shuts. There are too many large personalities, even if everyone gathered is on the reserved side.

Death speaks as the carriage begins to move. “Dare I ask what you have planned, Octavia?”

The Queen of Swords—Octavia—smiles serenely. “Only the best, Death. As always, we prefer the Cinque look kindly on the Swords Court, and our celebration of the champions will reflect that, just as it did during the last Trials.”