Zero begets the next, the One
Innocence lost, magick undone
Beware the rise when darkness falls
For magick corrupts, and blood trumps all.
“Zero is the number of the Fool in the major arcana,” I say. “One is the Magician. Zero begets the One—The Fool is the father, the Magician is his son. Innocence lost—that’s also the Fool, right? And magick undone—that could mean the magician reversed. Basically, the Magician going dark.”
“Beware the rise when darkness falls,” Kirin repeats. “The rise of the dark arcana, when that darkness falls upon us. Trump is another word for the majors. Blood trumps all—that could also mean the bloodline itself—the Fool’s and the Magician’s, or something else entirely…” He gazes up at the ceiling. “This is totally insane.”
“It’s all connected. All of it.” I turn and grab Kirin’s forearms, the ideas crashing into my brain so quickly, I know if I don’t get them out, I’ll lose them. “We keep looking for the bad guy in all of this, like some crooked mage making deals with humans and other crooked mages to wipe out the magickal population, maybe leave those few crooked mages in high positions, or pay them off, or whatever their deal is. But that doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would a mage willingly give up power to humans?”
“He wouldn’t,” Kirin says. “He might play along though, plan a double-cross in the end.”
“Right. This is bigger than a few crooked mages. Bigger than an inside job. This is a legend come to life.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we might just be standing here at the five-thousand-year mark, give or take. And maybe that motherfucker is coming to take his toys back.”
Kirin opens his mouth to debate, but there are no facts and figures to argue, no easily accessible statistics disproving my theory.
“And if that’s true,” I say, “then what I saw in my vision was probably just a glimpse of what he’s got planned. Death, mayhem, an eternity of darkness…”
I lean back against the shelf again and close my eyes, the enormity of all of this weighing heavy.
Kirin has gone silent, and after a few moments of that, I say, “Okay, geniusboy. That’s enough quiet for you. I know you’ve got a theory here—out with it.”
No response.
I open my eyes and find him standing before me, looking at me with an intensity I’ve never seen in him before. His pale green eyes are wild, his cheeks dark, his breath coming in short bursts, warm and gentle on my cheeks.
“What is it?” I whisper, gripping the shelves at my sides, preparing for the worst.
Kirin takes a step closer, erasing all the space between us.
“We’re standing here talking about death and mayhem and horrible legends that might actually be true,” he says softly, “and if they are true, a lot of people are going to die, including us, and all I can think about is… is…”
“What?” I whisper, my heart thumping, my own breath turning ragged.
Kirin reaches out, brushing his fingertips along my jaw, making me shiver.
“All I can think about is how badly I want to kiss you.”
Forty
STEVIE
My back hits the bookshelf, dusty spines pressing against my shoulder blades, the smell of old parchment and lemon oil swirling through my senses.
My heart is beating very fast,
“I’ve been dreaming about your lips since the first time I saw you smile,” Kirin says, tracing his fingertip across my bottom lip. “First day I walked into Kettle Black—you made me that tea with the peppers.”
“Toasted almond peppercorn,” I remind him, touched that he remembered the moment. I’ll never forget it either. The moment he walked into the café, everything about my life changed, as if my memories and future plans and everything in between were rearranging themselves to make room for this moment, right here in the library at the very place I swore I’d never, ever set foot.
I couldn’t explain it at the time.
