Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles) (4 page)

I stumble to a stop. I’ve reached a dead end. Trapped. I spin around as the Reaper comes into view.

He is alone, astride a white stallion with red eyes. He wears black armor, a helmet covering his face. Two swords hang from his belt. A polished scythe juts from a saddle holster. “Empress,” he intones.

“Death,” I bite out, trying to disguise the severity of my wound.

“I watched you battle the others today,” he says, his voice deep and raspy. “Your powers are monstrous, creature.”

“And yours are not?” He can kill just by touching another’s skin. Other Arcana whisper that he
prefers
to kill with his touch.

But I want to live! I have only eighteen springs, am far from ready to leave this world.

Death tilts his helmeted head. “Your flesh repairs itself. I wonder if the others could even kill you at all.”

“They cannot,” I lie. “Nor can you. So leave me.”

As if I haven’t spoken, he removes his helmet, revealing a shocking sight: his face.

He is . . . beautiful.

His masculine features are even and bold, with a proud brow and nose. His tanned skin and light blond hair make his amber eyes stand out. I guess his age to be no more than seventeen.

He dismounts with a lethal grace. As he stalks closer, I have to crane my head up and up to hold his gaze. He must be over six feet tall. His bearing bespeaks arrogance. Obviously highborn.

His gaze falls on the bloody hand I use to clutch my side. “So many icons. Soon to be mine.”

If he murders me, those images will appear on his hand, my kills becoming his own. Whichever Arcana has all the marks at the end, the last one standing, wins.

Lions roar in the distance. Fauna with her beasts.

Where are my allies? Fool, have you forsaken me?

When Death draws a sword, I spit blood at his face and run to the right; he cuts me off with unnatural speed. I run to the left, the same. I splay my fingers and slash at his armor, expecting to furrow the metal with my indestructible thorn claws.

Sparks flicker, but my claws dull, leaving nary a scratch.

Gasping for breath, I shake my head wildly, thrashing my reddened hair. No poison whispers from my tresses. I raise my free hand and call upon my lotus to appear. Nothing. I press my lips together, licking them. They are numb, cracked. No toxin covers them for a fatal kiss.

I’ve used up my powers earning the four icons on my hand, my glyphs gone dim in this hated desert.

“Beg me for your life.”

I jut my chin, even as my lungs struggle for air. “I am the great Empress . . . the May Queen, a killer of the first order. . . . I will
never
beg.”

He gives me a grudging nod, as if he respects me for this. “You’ve earned an honorable death, creature.” He meets my gaze; his eyes begin to glow, as if filled with stars. I can’t look away. “This will not hurt for long.”

Without a sound, he thrusts his sword, stabbing me through. I shriek in pain, clutching the blade that pins me to the rock. My screams die when I begin to choke on blood.

There is no sympathy in Death’s starry eyes, nothing but resolve as he secures my wrists, pinning them with one gloved hand. He raises the other to his mouth, using his teeth to tug off the gauntlet.

To touch me.

And it is then that I know: this boy will win the entire game. . . .

4

DAY 247 A.
F
.

—I’m coming for you, Empress.—

I woke, shooting upright. Death was in my dreams and in my mind. It was as if I could sense his presence in my head, a heavy feeling.

Like being possessed.

That dream with him had been so vivid, I pressed my hands to my stomach, expecting to feel a sword.

The details of his handsome face floated at the edges of my memory. He’d looked younger in the dream than he was now, and his black armor had been different, appearing ancient. Was this some kind of vision from another, even earlier game?

Just as Death’s presence faded, a draft ghosted over me. I raised my head, gazing around with unease. I was alone in the lab? With the moldering corpse? Were my surroundings or my nightmare to blame for this ominous feeling I had—

“Get dressed, Evie,”
Selena yelled as she bounded down the cellar steps, lobbing a waterproof pack to land right at my feet. “Quickly!”

“What’s going on?” I knelt beside the pack, digging in to find a navy parka, jeans, thick socks, T-shirts, even a supply of undergarments. Leather lace-up boots too. They looked to be about my size.

Under the clothes were Mayday bars, MREs, and energy gel packs—an apocalyptic lunchbox.

As I yanked off my ragged shirt, Selena filled me in. “Baggers are gone for the day, but Matthew foresaw Arcana company approaching. Cards following a kill, as I predicted,” she added in a superior tone.

“Which ones?”

“The Tower, Judgment, and the World.”

I’d seen the first two in battle in a vision Matthew had shown me. Even if I were eager to play the game, I wouldn’t want to tangle with them, especially when I was still so weakened from yesterday. “Have you heard their calls?” Had I slept right through them?

“Not yet. Think they’re still too far away. We were ransacking the Alchemist’s supplies—bastard had everything—when Matt started muttering about jamming the frequencies. Does that mean anything to you?”

I shook my head.

“He said these cards are coming in fast, that we have less than an hour.”

“So we can slip away?” I wondered if I would have time to drain the oaks, or would they be my parting gift to Requiem? At Selena’s nod, I said, “Why are you so keen to avoid a fight?”

She stared me down. “Because today we’d lose.”

Good reason.

She held up a laminated map of the Southeast, dappled with burnout holes. “I’m going to plan our exit out of this valley.” Like a gazelle, she bounded back up the steps.

I drew off what was left of my pants, relieved to see my skin had healed. After I yanked on the new jeans—too long in the legs, too tight in the ass: story o’ my life—I laced up the boots. At least those fit.

With one last glance around, I shouldered the pack and hurried upstairs. Even in the midst of this crisis, I realized I was nervous about seeing Jackson, wondering how he would act today. I wished I’d dreamed of him instead of Death.

In the morning’s dim light, the house looked even stranger, with Bagman slime everywhere and furniture tossed. Drizzle misted my hair
through the gaping roof. Wispy clouds sped across the muted sun. After months of either blue skies or brutal dust storms, this gray haze was freaky.

Not to mention Matthew’s prediction that we’d be weak in the rain while our enemies grew stronger.

As Selena pored over the map, Finn helped Matthew stuff supplies into a pack. I noticed Matthew had on a new coat. A relief—he’d been in sore need of something warm to wear. Like most clothing we’d been seeing A.F., it had dark-ringed bullet holes in it, from the previous owner’s demise.

I suspected Finn had sourced it for him. Was the Magician being helpful to make up for his trick? Though pissed at him for his illusion, I did think the boy had a decent heart.

But where was Jackson? I had a moment of panic, wondering if he’d bailed. Surely, he wouldn’t leave me without a word. Not after all we’d been through.
It’s you for me, peekôn.

Still, I was about to ask when Selena announced, “We’re in a valley with mountains on three sides. Two sides are too high to scale. The third leads to cannibal country.”

Finn swallowed hard. He’d seen the cannibals when he’d crossed the mountains in the past.

Sensing Finn’s distress, Matthew patted him on his head. “There, there.”

Selena continued, “The only road out of here is a bottleneck. If we can squeeze out before the other Arcana show, I say we head south back to Finn’s cabin. Lure Death to our foxhole, fight him on our home turf. Evie’s powers work best when she can dig in and prepare.”

Finn wiped mist from his face. “You assume I’m inviting you back to my pad, Selena? I’m not leaving this town with you. We’ll be fine on our own.”

She shoved the map into her pack. “Listen, you deceptive little shit, Evie’s the linchpin. I go where she goes—”

“The linchpin’s still going to find her grandmother,” I interrupted.
“Like I said, I’m heading to the Outer Banks.” I gazed around. “Where’s Jackson?”

Finn zipped Matthew’s pack closed. “Um, Jack bugged out before we woke up,” he said, his demeanor guilty. “He’s gone, Evie.”

“Not a card,” Matthew said. He’d never felt comfortable with Jackson, a non-Arcana, around.

“
Gone
gone?” No, I refused to believe he would abandon me without so much as a look back.
Like you abandoned him?
my conscience whispered.

Selena rolled her eyes. “What’d you expect? J.D. witnessed you go full-on Empress, all
Little Shop of Horrors
. I think he got the message: we’re—not—human. Not to mention what he heard in the cellar, about us being in Death’s crosshairs. If I were him, I’d be sprinting away from us as fast as I could.”

That was . . . fair. “I’m surprised you didn’t chase after him.”

“If he’d liked me back, I might’ve asked him to run with me,” Selena admitted. “Even though I’ve accepted that an alliance with you is the single thing that might keep me alive.”

I asked Matthew, “I don’t suppose he’s coming back?”

Matthew gazed at the cloudy sky. “He should’ve said good-bye.”

I surveyed the yard, seeing the Bagmen bodies from the night before. Jackson had collected his arrows from those corpses—on his way out.
Ever practical, Cajun.

My eyes watered, but I forced a blank expression on my face. “It’s for the best anyway.” I hated that he’d left! “He didn’t belong with us.” He belonged with me.

Never to see him again? The idea hurt me worse than a sword to the stomach. I asked Matthew, “If Jack is still nearby, will he be safe from other cards?”

Matthew nodded. “Not Arcana.”

Yet we were, which meant we were all in danger. I couldn’t afford to think about Jack right now—I needed to figure out how to survive the next hour!

“All right, Evie, what do we do?” Finn checked a new watch. “We’ve got company in less than forty-five minutes.” He looked at me like I was his leader, like he’d listen to whatever a girl like me had to say.

In the past, no one had consulted me about anything. And I’d been okay with that.

“We run out of the valley, threading the needle,” I said. “But if you want to go with me, then we make a pact not to harm each other, and we make it fast.”

Selena and Finn scowled at each other.

“What are our options?” I demanded. “Say we go back to Finn’s, and Death comes. Say we somehow defeat him. Do we even take a fiver to celebrate our team’s victory—or do we start wiping each other out directly?”

When they remained unconvinced, I said, “Matthew showed me a vision of another alliance of three. They fought Death. They were organized, skilled, and committed. They never would’ve hurt each other, which means they had to be planning an exit from the game.” I turned to Matthew. “Right?”

He didn’t deny it, just said, “System the game, game the system. There’s a heat in battle.”

“There is,” I said. “We might need to fight, but that doesn’t mean we have to kill each other. If we all commit to this, then we don’t have to become murderers. Your hands are clean.” Unlike my marked one.

Finn asked Selena, “Think a pact’s even doable for you?”

“If we can come up with a viable way to get out of this game, then I won’t hurt any of you,” she said. “Otherwise, we’re back to the take-out-Death alliance.”

I shared a look with Finn.
Best we’re gonna get.

He tapped his watch. “We’re getting close on time.”

Which meant I’d be leaving my trees.
You’re welcome, Requiem!
“All right. First order of alliance business: run.”

They both grabbed their packs, like I’d given marching orders.

Grasping Matthew’s hand, I hurried toward the yard. “Can you see
how far away the other cards are?” We crossed over the front porch—the place where I’d finished the Alchemist. There was no sign of his blood. Baggers must’ve licked the boards clean.

“You need to stay here and fight, Empress.”

The mere idea made me queasy, my legs feeling rubbery. “We’re taking off, honey. It’ll be safer for you.”

His big brown eyes were solemn as he said, “I hope you are terrified and angry and sad for as long as it rains.”

“Matthew! Why would you say that?” I cast him a hurt look. “Never mind, we’ll talk about this later.”

“Death watches. Strike first, or be first-struck.”

He kept saying that, but even if I unleashed my full arsenal, I didn’t know if I could kill Death. He would slice through my barriers and vines with his swords. His armor would protect him from my thorns and claws. Just like in my dream. Now that I wasn’t all roided out on Empress juice, I didn’t have high hopes for my chances. “One threat at a time, okay?”

We hadn’t made it out of the yard when everyone froze midstep; Arcana calls sounded.

—Eyes to the skies, lads, I strike from above!—

—I watch you like a hawk.—

I’d heard these before, had seen their owners in Matthew’s shared visions. The first call belonged to the Tower Card, Joules. The second was from Gabriel, the Judgment Card, a winged boy.

Shit, this was happening! “Matthew, you told us we had an hour!”

“Less than. This is less than.”

“They’re already in the valley.” Selena scowled. “And if we heard their calls, you better believe they heard ours. We can’t get past them now. The bottleneck’s too narrow.”

Just as Finn said, “The four of us can handle a pair, right?” we heard another call: