As for Kirin and Baz, they might not realize it yet, but they’ll be accompanying me back to my suite for a slumber party. There’s no way I want to be away from them tonight. Or tomorrow for that matter. In fact, I’m thinking this will take a good month at least.
Doc leads us to a small antechamber behind the main cave area, and we place the sword and pentacle on the ground. Powerful magick emanates from both of them, making my palms tingle, calling to that deep and ancient part of my Arcana soul that knows the sacred objects are part of my legacy. Part ofourlegacy.
By their awed expressions, I know the guys feel the same way.
It’s a shame we have to hide them like this—more secrets buried, more parts of ourselves denied.
But I also know it’s for the best. Our lives are at stake here. Magick itself is at stake.
“Stevie, are you ready?” Doc asks, and I let out a final sigh of regret, then nod.
Kneeling before the objects, I place a card at each cardinal direction, just as Professor Maddox instructed us—the Princes from each of the Tarot suits, four brave knights to serve and protect these most sacred artifacts.
Cards in place, I remove a small vial of dark, silvery liquid—a potion Professor Broome created for us.
“Even if their magickal signature has already put the Academy on the Dark Magician’s radar,” I explain, “the objects will be safe here. Aside from the five of us casting the spell, anyone who comes within a mile of the Fool’s Grave will be magickally turned around, wandering and confused for days.”
I unstopper the vial and pour the contents in an unbroken circle around the objects, just as Professor Broome instructed. The silver liquid bubbles as it hits the ground, glowing bright white when the circle is complete.
Vial empty, I rise and join hands with my brothers, the five of us forming a circle as I recite the final spell:
Arcana princes, one and all
We beseech you, hear our call
Sword and pentacle are protected
When our foes are misdirected
After the third recitation, the glowing white circle turns into a dome, enclosing the Princes and the objects inside.
“Assuming we did the spell right,” I say, “we’re the only ones who can see or sense the objects, and the protective shield can only be opened with our blood.”
“Any of us?” Ani asks.
“All five. The professor said it won’t work otherwise.”
He nods, and the five of us continue to stare at the glowing dome, at the objects inside.
“Does anyone else feel like we’re just moving chess pieces back and forth across a board for all eternity?” I ask.
No one replies. There’s no need; their heavy sighs are enough.
But it’s not just the futility of it all that’s getting to me. Something else is nagging at the back of my mind, and has been ever since Baz brought the objects back. Maybe even since we first figured out they were in the dream realm.
“Guys, something about this isn’t adding up,” I say, the nagging intensifying. “This stuff was hidden in the dream realm for decades. And before that, hidden on campus for what—centuries? And none of the Dark Arcana could find it. Nor could the scholars or even the most experienced treasure hunters who’ve madecareersout of tracking down legends like this. Yet I’m here at the Academy for a couple of months—total newbie, no magickal education, no knowledge, basically just a girl who loves tea—and I manage to put the pieces together? Then we just march in there and bring them out?”
“I wouldn’t say we just marched in there,” Kirin says. “It was hell.”
“It was, but we survived it,” I say. “Right?”
“You’re saying it was too easy,” Doc says, confirming my exact thoughts.
“You don’t think so?”
“We’re intrepid magickal adventurers,” Ani says, hopeful as ever. “Maybe something’s going our way for once.”
“Said no intrepid adventurer, ever.” I walk around the dome, peering down at the objects that have consumed our thoughts for so long. “I don’t know. Maybe we should’ve let sleeping dogs lie.”
