A great deception is upon us.
Death is only the beginning.
The moon casts not its own light; in its glow, nothing is what it seems…
In the other card, a youthful man in a tunic and forest-green wrap gazes up at me, a stick and bundle slung over his shoulder, a bouquet of mistletoe in his hand. He and his black dog skip happily—obliviously—toward the edge of a cliff.
The Fool.
I stifle a gasp as another message rushes through me.
A new journey awaits you. Leap, and the net will appear.
There is no question about what I must do now. No debate. Not even a pause for breath.
I close my eyes and call on Jareth, ordering him to hand over the Sword at once.
Seconds later, he swoops down and releases it. It arrows straight into the earth, vibrating with the force of the impact. Chariot jerks it free at once, then lays it at Kirin’s feet.
Reunited once again, all four objects emanate a faint magickal glow.
“Release them!” I shout, some part of me still holding out hope that maybe—just maybe—the cards were wrong. That I don’t have to make that leap of faith after all, and these Dark Arcana assholes will simply take their toys, fuck off into the sunset, and forget all about us.
But those are the hopes and dreams of a naive schoolgirl, not the reality of a spirit-blessed Arcana witch. One whose blood is the last ingredient in some arcane spell the Magician wants more than anything in this world—the spell that will allow him to reclaim his supposed birthright.
To control magick for eternity, forever dominating all who wield it.
He’s planning to do the ceremony right here. All the objects are in place.
All he needs now is me.
And he’s keeping me here, exactly where he wants me, paralyzed by fear. My greatest fear, as a matter of fact—losing the men I love, knowing there isn’t a damn thing I can do to save them.
In a flash, Judgment raises his Wand one last time, and I know what comes next. The horror of it crashes over me hard, driving me to my knees.
He opens his mouth, condemning my men to death.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
With flame and with fury, the ends are just
Cleansed by fire, Arcana must die
From Death we return, in Darkness we rise
He touches the Wand to the ground before them. The fire ignites at once.
My instincts tell me to close my eyes, to hold my breath, but I can’t. I force myself to watch. To take in every moment.
It’s the least I can do for the men I so desperately love.
My heart shatters.
Still imprisoned by the magick, I watch in stunned horror as white-hot flames devour the men I love. Kirin’s sunset-behind-the-saguaros eyes. The sound of Doc’s laugh breaking through his no-nonsense demeanor. The devilish grin that can only belong to Baz. And Ani, my sweet Gingersnap, singing 80s duets with me until the very end…
Skin and blood and bone turn to ash.
And in a matter of seconds, they’re gone. Just… gone.
