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Aric and I had both tried to communicate with him, but he’d never answered, not even after Tee’s birth. We knew he still lived as of a few months ago, because Sol had confirmed that neither of his former allies wore Matthew’s icon.
I pictured the Fool’s symbol, a zero with a diagonal line through it. I’d have to wear it if I won this game. I shuddered.
Aric had sketched all twenty-two icons in his chronicles—a no-nonsense history of battles and strategy. Within those precisely handwritten pages, he’d downplayed his own heroics and explained away my betrayals.
One night, as we lay together in bed, he’d summed up his chronicles: “A record of a life too long, with too much bloodshed.”
“Don’t say that,” I’d whispered, knowing he’d completed them because he believed he would fall in this game. It was like a manual for how to win, written by the reigning victor. . . .
Lark snapped her beclawed fingers. “Earth to Evie?”
I blinked to attention. “Sorry. Woolgathering.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You’re not preggers again, are you?”
“What? Good God, no.”
“You and Death have been making up for lost time, though?”
Yes, we have. My face flushed. “No more kids for me and Aric.” Between the rhythm method and my breastfeeding, we figured we were covered for now.
“Smart. I love being an auntie, but it’s time for Mama to go back to work now, you know, killing evil Arcana like Richter.”
Since Tee’s birth, my powers had grown stronger every day. Yet so did the red witch—she seemed to be readying inside me to face the Emperor.
Even with Sol’s help, four possible outcomes awaited me from that battle. Richter would defeat me. I’d burn out and die. I’d destroy the world. Or I’d somehow rein in the witch.
Fresh from one of my continual nightmares, I’d finally remembered what the Queen of Cups had whispered to me: “You’re just as evil as Richter—but at least he isn’t cunning. Your red reign will mark the end of humankind forever.”
No wonder it’d taken me so long to reclaim that memory.
The red witch was cunning and evil; but freeing her—temporarily to protect my loved ones—didn’t mean she would replace me forever.
It didn’t.
“Mama’s back at the desk,” I told Lark. “Now we just need to find Richter again. Were you able to do any surveillance this morning?” The snow had briefly cleared, but it was even colder.
“Not a lot. Taka can’t get out ahead of the blizzards. Looks like you’re our eyes and ears for now.”
Despite Snowmageddon, my vines kept growing out from the castle, slithering across the icy surface for miles, a shadow mirror to my nightmares.
But they were handy. I picked up on any intruder—from a rare rat to a Bagger—giving us a PEWS array like never before.
“If you and Death would lay off the no-resurrection rules,” Lark said, “I’d revive some cold-hardy arctic wolves.” At my look, she raised her hands. “Kidding. Got no plans to rock the ark here.”
“Definitely not.” Aric had mended fences with her and was doing his best to draw her out of her depression. Tee helped with that as well. Though Lark couldn’t touch him, she had her baby animals put on shows for him. Like living stuffies. She loved spending time with him.
We all did.
Aric wanted to change every diaper, soothe every cry. He acted as if time spent with his son was an empty tank he intended to fill—a lifetime of interactions in a limited window.
Last night, I’d watched a movie with Lark. Returning to our room, I’d found Aric standing over the crib, a tear wetting his face as he beheld Tee sleeping. When he noticed me, Aric hadn’t wiped his face, hadn’t turned away. He’d just offered his hand.
I’d crossed to him and taken it.
“Look at our child, Evie,” he’d murmured. Tee had appeared surreal. Lips parted, lashes on his pinkened cheeks. “All our toils and troubles have meaning. It all led up to him.”
I didn’t know if I believed that. Sometimes I could buy that destiny was playing a part; other times not.
Mainly I just worried about what kind of world we’d brought Tee into. Would he never see the sun shining? Or kids at the playground? Would he never fall in love—
Lark bolted to her feet. “I scent something. Evie, it’s in the castle.”
Just as she said the words, I detected movement near Tee’s crib. My claws sharpened as I ran for the bedroom. Over my shoulder, I yelled, “Go get Aric!”
I tried to sense through the crib’s vines and attack . . . but they didn’t perceive a threat?
In the hallway, I spied water on the floor. Then another puddle. And another. All leading to our bedroom.
Wait—these weren’t puddles; wet footprints made a trail.
“Circe, are you here?” She must have hydroported to the castle. What if Tee did possess the Touch of Death? I sprinted for her, slipping in the water. “Don’t pick him up! Don’t touch him.” I lurched around the corner and burst through the doorway.
