Arcana Rising (The Arcana Chronicles Book 5) (29 page)

“I’m not certain yet. I’ll let you know once I work out a theory.”

When the drizzle intensified to a downpour, I pulled up the hood of my poncho.

“Come.” Aric took my hand. “This was enough for today.”

We started back toward the castle, both lost in thought.

I was looking forward to a hot shower—with him. We rarely showered alone. To be fair, who wouldn’t conserve water after living through the Flash?

Then we would eat in his study, holing up in front of the fire to read the chronicles he’d acquired over the last three games, including the Lovers’.

Aric was almost finished translating theirs. When I’d pressed about the contents, he’d admitted there wasn’t much to help us. The entries were basically stream-of-consciousness murder fantasies—and I starred in every one.

I’d assumed those pages would, you know,
make sense
. Or be
helpful
. But even the Lovers’ father had admitted their chronicles were a revenge contract. No wonder Aric hadn’t wanted to share the deets.

He’d also read my own book. The information within had filled in blanks that had plagued him for centuries. Among a dozen other mysteries, he’d wondered how I’d defeated the Centurion, how I’d survived the Tower and the Angel’s fire, and what I’d done with the Magician’s chronicles after I’d killed him and Lark (burned after reading).

He’d also suspected Lark could create animals, but he’d never been able to verify that ability until now.

Just as he’d never been able to verify the Minor Arcana. Which made sense. The Minors had probably steered clear of him, letting him do his deadly thing. Would they repeat that strategy in this game?

Even after all these weeks, I still couldn’t shake my ominous countdown feeling; maybe I sensed
their
approach?

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
If not them, then what threat loomed . . . ?

I’d told Aric about my sense. He’d replied, “We can’t possibly do more to prepare against enemies, so try not to focus on it too much. Remember: this game will
try
to make you insane.”

He’d scratched his head at Gran’s cryptic writings in the back of my chronicles, promising to keep delving for answers.

Since she’d passed away, I’d tried to focus on good memories of her. She had taught me a lot about my abilities, and not all of the information had been geared toward killing.

She’d told me an Empress could fashion wood into whatever shapes she liked; in my pocket was a wedding ring for Aric that I’d painstakingly crafted.

I’d figured the band would need to be as resilient as metal, so I’d chosen one of the strongest trees in the world: lignum vitae. Latin for
wood of life
.

Aric would like that detail.

After secretly measuring his ring finger—I’d used a tiny vine as he slept—I’d created prototype rings, honing my ability.

Once I was satisfied with the band, I’d reinforced it with everything in me, making the wood as strong as steel. I’d darkened the grain and smoothed it, until the band was gleaming black.

I might not be wielding the earthshaking plant powers I’d had in the past, but I could make a mean wedding ring.

It would be as enduring as he was.

But for some reason, I kept hesitating to give it to him.

Because of Jack? I didn’t know. I tried not to think about my first love at all, figuring I could keep the tourniquet on a little longer. That noose around my heart might be limiting what I felt for Aric, but I probably couldn’t handle anything stronger than the crazy love I already had for him. . . .

When we reached the front door, he stopped and pulled my hood back, assessing my face. “Perhaps you’re simply fatigued from lack of rest.”

Sometimes the tourniquet slipped. Especially when I slept. “Yeah, maybe.” I still wasn’t free from nightmares about the Emperor’s attack. Last night, I’d shot up in bed screaming. Aric had been right there for me.

“It was just a dream.” He pulled me against him. “You’re safe, love.”

I shook in his arms. The Emperor had to be stopped. I believed Circe—Richter would usher in hell on earth.

“Sievā, shh, shh,” Aric murmured, rocking me. “I’ve got you.”

“Jack used to say that.” I tensed, couldn’t believe I’d uttered that aloud.
Where’s your head at, Evie?
“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Aric said firmly. “You
should
talk about him. He was a big part of your life.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Aric pulled me back to face him. “Do you try
not
to think about him?”

After a hesitation, I nodded.

“Jack saved your life and protected you when you were vulnerable. You and I would never have this time if not for him.”

“I . . . let’s not talk about that.” I reached for Aric, seeking that oblivion. “Kiss me. . . .”

Now I assured him, “I’ll get more sleep tonight.” Maybe I’d been too mentally damaged by everything. Maybe I should have taken more time to grieve Jack.

No, no, I couldn’t have. I wanted—needed—to make Aric happy. And we were on
borrowed
time. . . .

I had believed dying in a fight against Richter would be easier than simply accepting what he’d done. Now I knew what would be harder than both.

Losing Aric.

I couldn’t stifle a shudder.

“
Sievā
, is there anything more distracting you?”

I shrugged. “Just thinking about Richter a lot.”

“We should train more in the coming weeks. We’ll add an hour each day.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me against him. “You have to be ready to fight. If anything happened to you . . .” He swallowed thickly. “I think I would lose my mind.”

Bingo, Aric.

That’s exactly what happens.

“No male ever had roommates like this trio of females,” Aric said drily.

He and I lay in bed, gazing at each other by firelight, trying not to notice how the entire mountaintop trembled.

Circe’s moat sloshed with whirlpools and eddies, like barely contained violence. In fact, the river often swelled up into rapids, the castle all but waterfront property. Last week, she’d sent a geyser a mile in the air.

All that pent-up energy, just waiting to be unleashed.

I lowered my voice to say, “I caught you eyeing the river earlier with an uneasy look. She could swamp us as an afterthought.”

Even worse? I’d seen the Priestess’s girl water-form moving in the fog—walking
among
us, like a ghost. When she’d gone still, she’d turned fully transparent. I’d looked right through her.

The other night Aric and I had found wet footsteps leading out of the indoor pool, but no steps leading in. Circe had hydro-ported from one body of water to another, then had been loose inside the castle.

He exhaled. “Swamp us? Or possibly erode the mountain right out from under us?”

“Whoa.” I hadn’t thought of that. “I believe she genuinely cares about you. Looking back, I can see she was doing anything she could to help get us together. But will the heat of battle make her strike?”

“She has garnered a lot of control over the games.”

“Like you.”

He inclined his head. “Yes. In any case, she’s never betrayed me.”

“But
I
have betrayed her.” I’d finally gotten him to explain what had happened between me and Circe in the last game.

After convincing her that I was different—from the previous times I’d backstabbed her—we’d become friends. But when I’d murdered my ally Fauna, Circe had grown suspicious. Before she could slip away to safety, I’d abducted her, chaining her in my cellar, delaying the kill so Death wouldn’t hear of it or see a new icon.

Aric had found her down there—directly after I’d tried to poison
him
. He’d saved her life, earning her loyalty.

I bit my lip. “Maybe she’ll only target me.” Had my countdown feeling been about Circe? Maybe I shouldn’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop; I should be waiting for the wave to crest.

“
Sievā
, targeting you
is
targeting me.”

Some beast roared in the night. The animal calls and cries were a constant reminder of Lark’s growing arsenal.

“The longer the game stretches on, the stronger we each become.”

Except me. “Does Richter?”

“Yes,” Aric said quietly. “And Fortune and the Sun.”

“Sol said he would be able to light up the entire world, controlling millions of Baggers. Could he?”

“Possibly. But if Fortune alone realizes her full powers, then she has already defeated us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her luck-energy manipulation,” he said. “She could blindly affect a battle—before it even started. Her ability could guarantee that her alliance would win any conflict.”

“The odds would always be fixed in their favor?”

He shook his head. “Not odds. Fixed
outcomes
. We would have no odds.”

Maybe
she
was the root of what I’d sensed. Damn it,
something
was coming! I grabbed Aric’s shoulder. “I want you to wear your armor as much as possible. Please. If you died . . .”

He clasped my face. “I need you to understand something. No matter what happens in the future, no matter what this game brings, these months with you have been worth all my loneliness and pain.” He gave me brief, hard kiss. “I would repeat those millennia, just for this taste of life with you.”

“Again, I love you too, Aric. Now, wear your fucking armor.”

His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “I’m likely to fall in battle.”

“You haven’t in two thousand years.” Then I frowned. “Do you no longer expect us to have a life together?”

“A long one?” He shook his head. “I told you the odds of us both living to eighty in this world was exceedingly slim, especially if the game toils on. We’re soldiers, and we’re at war. But we will return.”

“Where will players come from in the future?” I asked. “Most of us have no family left.”

“But every Arcana has a closest relative somewhere in the world. That person will continue the line.”

Digesting everything he’d told me, I said, “If we’re soldiers at war, then let’s go out in a blaze of glory—
together
.”

“Should both of us lose, how will we know not to kill each other in the future? The mere idea that I might hurt you again . . .” His eyes flickered with emotion. “We could write to our next incarnations, but who will deliver such a missive?”

“When you asked me to be with you months ago, how had you planned for this?”

“I would have trusted Lark to carry letters on,” he said. “Now we each have a target on our back.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do another seven-century stint.” He’d told me and Jack that immortality was the
utterest hell
. “But I couldn’t handle it either. I’m not built to be alone. Aric, if something happened to you . . . I couldn’t . . .” Losing them both? There was no tourniquet tight enough. “Winning the game would be my absolute worst nightmare.”

Voice gone gruff, he said, “You truly mean that.”

I nodded. “We need to figure out another way to preserve our memories.”

“We could bargain with the Fool—”

“Out of the question.” I inhale a breath, then softened my tone. “What about Circe? Maybe we could ask her to cast a spell.”

“Though we might not even trust her not to kill us?”

Good point. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“We’ll talk to her.” He reached for me, pulling me closer. “Come here.”

I went into his arms, and for a time, I didn’t have to think at all. . . .

“The unclean one!” Lark called when I stopped by her room. She was sitting on her bed, in the middle of a pile of animals.

Aric was finishing up some other translations, so I’d told him I would go check in with Lark. Secretly I wanted to make sure she wasn’t planning our murders with all her animals and such. “Are you taking a break?”

“A few minutes. Just to rest my wings. I mean, my falcon’s wings.” She waved to the bed. “Cop a squat.”

I waded through animals, then scooted a grumpy badger family out of the way so I could sit beside Lark.

“You’re making the boss happy,” she said. “Like a thousand times more happy than when you two hit it off before. I heard the man
whistling
the other morning. For real?”

“For real.” I reached over and plucked feathers from her hair.

With an irritated growl, she shook her mane out.

I insistently tucked her hair behind her ears. “Your ears are getting pointed.”

She slapped her claw-tipped fingers over them and hissed at me.

“I think they’re adorable.”

With a wary expression, she lowered her hands. “Whatever.” Fretting her lip with a fang, she said, “Do you think Finn’ll be cool with my changes?”