Stay focused, girl. You can do this. Keep him talking and distracted.
“So what happens after all that?” I ask. “You get your magick back, you’ve got the Arcana objects… What’s next on your vision board?”
He considers the question as though it’s a serious conversation between friends. “Well, the next logical step is to take care of the remaining Arcana. I may have to wait a few years to track down your next incarnation, but the others are easy enough to find.”
“What do you need them for?”
“To join me, of course. In darkness.” He says it so matter-of-factly, as if it’s just a forgone conclusion that all the Arcana—my Arcana—will jump on his fucked-up little dark side bandwagon.
The smugness and audacity in his tone turn my stomach. More than his torture plans, more than his past cruelty, it’s this smugness—this entitlement—that finally sets my blood to boil.
“You’llneverturn them,” I spit. “They would rather die than they join you.”
He clucks his tongue at me. “You say that with such confidence. Yet look how easily I was able to strip the Sun of his light.”
“I brought him back, though,” I say with a little smugness of my own. “I banished the darkness from him and called the light back.”
He looks at me with a cocky grin. “Did you? Are youcertain?”
The words have the intended effect, piercing holes in my confidence. All around me, fresh dahlias bloom in the pots, and the moonlight overhead dims.
“The darkness exists inallof the Arcana,” he says. “Light and shadow—that is our interplay. One cannot exist without the other. Some of you might cling to the light a bit more stringently than others, but ultimately, everyone has their price. Everyone is but one tragedy away from giving in to the darkness. Evenyou, little Star.”
I open my mouth to unleash a string of curses and denials, but quickly clamp it shut.
Maybe he’s right about that. Maybe thereisa darkness inside me, despite Kirin’s belief that my Star Arcana power is pure goodness and light.
But he’s wrong about one thing.
I willneverjoin him—not in this iteration or any other. He can torture me, he can spill my blood, he can ultimately kill me, but I will never go dark for him.
If there’s darkness inside of me, it belongs to me. Mine to claim. Mine to call upon. Mine to use as I see fit.
I close my eyes, and a new message appears—another Tarot card.
It’s the Moon again, bringing with it another conversation I had with Doc, this time in my first mental magicks class.
How and when did you learn to dreamcast?he asked.
Dreamcast? I’ve never even heard of it.
Well, you just did it. Dreamcasting is when you conjure a dream or vision for yourself, then pull your target into it by casting it into his mind. Hold him there long enough, and eventually, the target will have no idea that the vision is coming from another person. It’s powerful, complex magick, highly unethical, and advanced beyond even our graduate teachings… A person could literally go insane from magick like that.
It’s a long shot, but if magick is all I’ve got, then I’ll find a way to make it work.
Because I’m not going to die here. Screw that.
Keeping my eyes closed, I dig into the fear I’m feeling, the desperation, the hopelessness, trying to channel it into some kind of mental spell I can use against the Magician. But I know right away it’s not enough—I need to dig deeper.
Though it nearly shreds my heart to do so, I force myself to go back to the spiral cave in my memory, picturing the guys turning to ash. The image brings a spark of dark magick to life inside me, stronger than before, but still—I need more.
I go back to the battle on campus. The dead bodies. The blood.
Again, the darkness inside me flickers. Brighter this time. Stronger.
More,it whispers.More.
I go back to prison, to the abuse I suffered at the hands of the other inmates and guards. I go back to the crime scene photos of Luke’s murder. I go back to the top of El Búho Grande, where the dark mage possessed my friend and nearly killed me. I go back to my arrest, the very last time I saw my beloved Kettle Black.
