A moment of calculation. Of panic. But this version of myself is still me. She does exactly what I would’ve done. “Clara Graysword.”
“Clara Graysword,” he repeats slowly. From the moment we first met, he savors my name.
“Clara Graysword,” the Kaelis at my side repeats softer, gentler. One is said with curiosity. The other with familiarity. An echo of the past that never was harmonizing with the future.
I glance his way, and the demand he posed earlier, that was left unanswered, still lingers.Tell me your true name.But he doesn’t ask again.
“Consider the name payment enough for the cards.” Younger Kaelis steps backward.
“You’re really not going to stop me?”
“Not today, Clara. Maybe next time, when I find out what you intend to use those cards for.”
My other self scoffs. “Your mistake, Prince; you never will.” She turns, walking away. Offhandedly, she says, “Luck is on my side, after all.”
This is how he knew…everything. He knew my name. My appearance. I can still feel the warmth of his breath on my ear as he whispered that luck is on my side right before the Fire Festival.
My shock is interrupted by the last person I’d ever want to hear.
“Do it,” King Naethor’s disembodied voice demands.
The young Kaelis blinks. The world seems to twist, just slightly, just enough that the colors are a bit too bright. The outlines of the wisteria have become hazier, almost pulsing.
It’s the moment he’s realizing that what’s before him isn’t reality.
“Do it,now.” King Naethor is relentless and impatient.
The younger Kaelis hesitates for a breath. He sucks it in and holds it, as if by postponing the exhale he could make time stop. Then, when his lungs are surely burning, he finally moves.
I don’t flinch as younger Kaelis’s swift card work annihilates this other version of myself. She puts up a good fight—it is me, or the specter of me, after all. But Kaelis has the upper hand with the element of surprise, and he doesn’t hesitate. Nor does he try to refrain from using more advanced cards, like I was forced to when my Chalice sacrifice was made.
The dying future begins to blur, condensing to a single focus: a younger Kaelis looming over my mangled corpse. It’s as though an unseen hand is snuffing all the lanterns that illuminate this vision—like we are watching the final moments of a stage play. One by one, the buildings fade, the shop disappears, it all vanishes, with the exception of us.
One last light against the darkness. One last moment of him studying my still frame not with mourning but with fascination. As if the secrets of the universe are wrapped within my form.
Then it all goes dark.
Chapter 52
The Chalice and Naethor come back into view. The younger Kaelis stands in the same position he did in the vision, staring at the floor, as though my mangled body is still there.
In the silence, I ask the Kaelis I know, “Why did you sacrifice your futures to the Chalice?”
The academy didn’t exist yet. Kaelis was a powerful enough Arcanist that he didn’tneedthe power of the Chalice to use the higher-numbered cards.
None of this was necessary.
“Do you think I had a choice?” The way he asks makes it clear that he thinks I already know the answer. I suppose it should’ve been obvious…“Had I refused, my father would’ve killed me.”
“Because you were the heir to Revisan?” I guess.
Kaelis dips his chin slightly. It’s part nod, part glower cast in the direction of the memory of his father.
“If he took my future, I couldn’t be a threat. By this point, I’d already gone to the fortress and found proof of my lineage.”
“How did he know what future you’d give up?” I ask.
Kaelis turns his void-like eyes to mine. “Do you believe in destiny, Clara?”
