With every word, more monsters spill from the rift. They snap and claw, chase and devour. Living witches and mages—students and professors alike—throw spells, weapons, and their own bodies at the attackers, desperate to beat back the encroaching waves.
But for every one they kill, more rise from the blackened ruins of battle.
“Stevie! Run!” A familiar voice shouts, and I spin on my heel to see Nat running straight for us. In a flash, I remember my vision. The arrows. Her death.
“Nat! Get down!” I charge at her, crashing in to her and bringing her down. Two arrows zip over our heads. I glance up to see three hooded mages nocking their arrows, preparing for another shot.
“Time to go.” Kirin hauls me up, Doc dragging Nat, and we all bolt into another half-demolished classroom building.
“Isla and Carly are gone,” Nat says, breathless. Her silver-and-teal hair is matted with dirt and blood. “We got separated, and—”
“Nat, listen to me.” I grip her shoulder, my voice firm. “They’re strong. They’re fine. I canfeelit.”
She swallows hard and nods.
“Where are the agents and the professors?” I ask.
“I don’t know. We never met up. I saw Agent Quinta running toward some of the mages a few minutes ago, but I was too busy trying not to die to stop and ask any questions.”
“Understandable.” I smile, then close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. In my hand, the Sword of Breath and Blade tingles, its magick stirring to life.
When I open my eyes again, I see them. Four Tarot cards face up on the ground before me.
My Princesses.
“Did you see Casey?” Kirin asks.
Nat shakes her head.
“Fuck.” Doc shoves a hand through his hair. “We are vastly outnumbered and completely out-magicked.”
“Notcompletely.” I look into his stormy-sea eyes, a smile touching my lips. The Sword glows faintly, and with it, the spell rushes into my mind.
I waste no time calling it into existence.
Swords and Pentacles, Cups and Wands
I call on you now to honor our bonds
By foes we’re outnumbered, by magick outspelled
So let’s send these assholes straight back to hell
“That’s one way to do it,” Baz says with a chuckle. “You sure they heard you?”
“Oh, they heard me all right.” I grin into the darkness behind us. And one by one, my Arcana Princesses appear, looking as badass as ever—Swords, dressed in her tattered blue gown, her sword and black raven at the ready. Cups, with her flowing red hair and golden chalice. Pentacles, curious and open, wise beyond her years. And Wands, rocking a fierce, fiery energy and a powerful staff to rival that of the Black Sun.
Suddenly, I’m overcome with a wave of emotion—gratitude, mostly. Grief for those we’ve already lost. But also—rising above all that—honor.
Fighting with my mages, my friends, my Princesses… It fills me with a sense of duty and hope and lightness that not even the darkest evil can dim.
“Whatever happens out there,” I whisper, but Doc cuts me off with a kiss.
“Whatever happens out there, Miss Milan, we will discuss it later.”
I nod once, borrowing a bit of his courage and certainty.
Later. The word is my new mantra.
