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Jack gave a low laugh. “I suppose we have talked about him a bit, huh?”
“The battle details were intense though! I can’t believe you guys did all that stuff.”
“Ouais.” Jack took my hand under the table. “Intense is the exact right word.”
I asked Tee, “What about how you view me?” Though Aric had justified or downplayed all my actions, they were still there.
Another shrug. “In the past, you were raised to play the game. Then in this life, you turned your back on it. You undid any harm you’d ever done. Mom, you and the other Arcana saved the world.”
Jack said proudly, “Man’s got a point.”
I was relieved until a thought occurred. “Have you read mine?” We didn’t lock them away. Maybe I should have. There were some private moments. . . .
Tee shook his head. “That’s different. I wouldn’t until you say I can.”
“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” I’d ask him to skip a few passages.
“I do want to see Castle Lethe one day though. I dream about it a lot. If half of what Uncle Sol wrote is true . . .”
“We’ll see what we can do,” I said. “Did you read Aric’s letter to you too?”
“I did.” Tee grew more subdued. “I loved him, didn’t I? Even as a baby?”
“You did,” I answered, voice gone hoarse. Under the table, Jack squeezed my hand reassuringly. “And he knew it. He told me once that he felt your love as strong as a battle-tested shield.”
Tee swallowed thickly. “Good.” He looked like he’d say more, but after glancing at my emotional face, my teenager stood. “I think I’ll head into town too and make sure Clo and her friends stay out of trouble.”
Jack and I shared a glance. We suspected Tee had a crush on Clo’s best friend, a sweet girl who would probably be delighted to have caught his eye.
“Good idea,” I said. “Please make sure everybody’s back for dinner. Circe will be here at six.”
“And remember,” Jack said, doing his customary send-off, a tribute to Aric, “if you can’t speak your deeds . . .”
“Don’t do them,” Tee finished for him. “Got it, Dad.” But at the doorway, he paused. Bathed in sunlight, he looked so much like Aric that I almost gasped. “Maybe I’ll write my own chronicles, and you can give them to my father in the next game.”
I could only wordlessly nod.
51
The Empress
“How are you holding up?” Circe asked me through her water form at the river.
It was just the two of us, after the sun had set and all the hubbub had died down. Jack, Tee, Clo, and Kent were on the porch talking about the new museum, while my hellions had gone to bed—in theory.
“I’m hanging in there.” Birthdays were tough. Every year the multiple Arcana lived, we each risked winning the game, which would mean entering the next one older and weaker; every second I remained in this life was one less I could spend with Aric.
He would be young and strong, and I wouldn’t be the girl he had fallen for. I’d be a mature woman—who couldn’t use her powers. All vanity aside, what kind of ally would I be for him against our foes?
Circe’s water form canted her head. “Still no word from the Fool?”
“None.” She always asked me this on my birthday, part of our ritual. As I did every year, I grew dandelions and braided the stems into two crowns. “He’s the wild card.” Crazy like a fox.
“Just as he is in Tarot.”
“Witnesses last spotted him and the Wise Mothers in western Canada. The Minors have passed us by.”
“Hmm. Perhaps they were afraid to challenge Majors.”
“Those women aren’t shy about mixing it up,” I pointed out. “They’ve challenged some of the worst gangs up there.”
“Do you think the Fool is looking out for us?”
“I think it’s because of him that we’ve had this time. No MacGuffins, no game, no Minors.” How to explain my evolving thoughts about Matthew?
He’d told me that I listened poorly, so I’d replayed everything he’d ever said to me. Above any other sentiment, he’d invariably expressed one: You are my friend.
After too long wondering, I had decided I would trust him; I’d taken the leap. The Fool guides your way. . . . “Circe, what if all that happened was part of his plan? What if he was the one who positioned us to stop the apocalypse? Maybe he did the legwork, and we just put the bow on top. He trusted us.”
Sounding contemplative, Circe said, “If that’s true, then what is his current plan?”
Good question. “I have no idea.” But I suspected my friend continued to play for no less than the survival of humanity.
“I hope you’re right about his intentions,” Circe said with a cough.
I’d noticed she seemed off with the kids at the barbecue earlier, her energy flagging. “Are you okay?”
