“The Star,” I whisper, a tear sliding down my cheek.
“We are the Keepers of the Grave,” Dr. Devane says. “Four emanations of the major arcana, sworn to protect magick and its many secrets from all who seek to destroy it. The Grave is a reference to the Fool’s Grave, an honorary site our forebears designated in the forest of Iron and Bone, the place that symbolizes our connection to the First Fool.”
“The majors are… are real,” I say, my mind whirling at the possibility, all of the pieces clicking into place. The secrets, the mystery, the magick, the darkness. “That means Phaines…”
“From what you saw when he drank your blood, we believe he’s the Hierophant, or High Priest. Trump five.” Ani removes his card from the deck, turns it upside down. “Gone dark. Just like trump one.” He pulls out the Magician.
He then removes two more cards—Seven, the Chariot. Twenty, Judgment.
“Based on your vision of the undead army,” Devane says, “we believe these have also turned dark, all in service of the Magician’s quest.
I recall my words, spoken through the haze of my fever.One, five, seven, twenty. Arcana devours, all and plenty…
Ani puts the dark Arcana back in the deck, but the mages are still holding their cards. I look at each one in turn. The Devil, trump fifteen. The Tower, trump sixteen. The Moon, eighteen. The Sun, nineteen.
Then, glancing down at my own, I shiver.
“Seventeen,” I whisper, gazing at my lady of the lake, pouring her sacred urns. “The Star.”
“You are the center holding us all together,” Kirin says.
“We are the Keepers of the Grave,” Dr. Devane repeats, then heads to the spare bedroom. He returns a moment later with his attache case—the same one I remember him having at the prison. He pops it open and retrieves a large black book, setting it on the coffee table.
Chills erupt across my skin, and a wave of nausea makes my knees wobble.
I sit on the couch, the others sitting next to me.
“Originally I thought that was the Book of Shadow and Mists,” I say. “That it was evil.”
I tell them about my flight with the owl, that I’d witnessed their meeting.
“This is the Book of the Brotherhood,” Dr. Devane says. “It’s not evil. It’s a reckoning of our accounts, our tasks, our solemn order. It’s been marked with the blood of all the Keepers of the Grave for generations.”
“Why does it make me feel like this… like I’m going to be sick, and it’s going to drag me right down to hell?”
“It’s calling to your blood. It knows you’re one of us—it wants the connection.”
“You’re one of us,” Ani says again, squeezing my hand.
My mouth is dry, but my eyes aren’t. My brain keeps searching for the flaw in their argument, for some other explanation. Majors aren’t real—it’s all just a legend. The Dark Arcana—they’re just crooked mages and witches, bent on power.
This is a trick, isn’t it? An elaborate prank, the hazing Ani swore they’d never do.
But no matter how hard my mind rails against it, deep down, I know they’re telling me the truth.
Finally.
“Your very name speaks to your destiny,” Kirin says. “A clue lying in stasis your entire life, waiting for the moment of discovery.”
“Starla Eve,” I say. “My mother used to call me her starlight.”
“It’s likely she knew,” Dr. Devane says. “She was a great seer, after all. And a major herself.”
I gasp, my eyes darting up to meet his.
“Your mother was The World, Stevie. Trump twenty-one. The end and the beginning. And you are only just beginning to understand her legacy. We all are.”
“But she’s dead,” I say. “Does that mean there isn’t a World now?”
