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“I’ll stay behind.” Joules dug through a filing cabinet. “Sniff around here some.”
“All right. Stay sharp.”
“Me javelins always are.”
Dieu aide-moi. The rest of us headed to the remaining door. It led to a stairwell, so down we went—into an area that slackened my jaw. “Kos didn’t overplay her hand.”
Crates of weapons and ammunition were stacked with military precision, each group labeled. Racks of shining guns stood ready for action. We found tactical riot gear and comms equipment so high-tech they made Death’s look outdated.
Sol turned in a circle, beaming. “Our new lair is apocalypse-proof—and Batman-approved.”
Kentarch slid me a look of respect, but I hadn’t done this alone. We’d all fought to make it here.
Gabe inhaled deeply. “I don’t scent anyone.”
“Let’s separate and clear the area just in case.” As we explored, I realized this hangar must be heated geothermally. The floors were warm, the air downright toasty. I also found valves for underground fuel tanks. All full.
I called, “Clear.”
The guys echoed the word from every corner. Even Joules would have to say no strings were attached.
When we met back at the stairs, Kentarch said, “I found four antiaircraft rocket launchers that are reloadable and self-cooling—so advanced they weren’t available to most military. There are crates of munitions. If we have to hit Fortune and the Emperor a hundred times each, those would do it.”
Sol punched my shoulder. “Not bad for a little road trip. Looks like the hunter is outfitted to change the course of the world.”
“We will change it,” I corrected. “I say we divert half of those rockets to the castle, prepping both here and there for war.” Dominija had wanted a bolt-hole. We could finally give him that.
Sol said, “If we brought in fertile dirt and seeds, I could grow crops in that windless valley.” He’d need to practice with his powers every day anyway. “We could maintain a goat or a cow from the castle.”
“Fresh milk?” Gabe’s eyes brightened, his appetite as strong as ever.
All my misgivings about the other things Kos had told me faded away. “I’ll call the Reaper, let him know—”
“Oi.” Joules stomped down the stairs. “Hold off on your victory lap, Cajun. Seems you weren’t tellin’ us everything.”
Merde.
“Like the fact that you’re a feckin’ Minor!”
Double merde.
“You forgot to tell us the Swords had been searchin’ for their missing Page Card!” He marched up to me and waved a piece of paper in my face.
It was titled Page of Swords Potentials and had a list of ten names. Right at the top: Jackson Daniel Deveaux, the Cajun General.
Someone had written in the margins: Built Fort Arcana. Seized command of the Azey. Presumed KIA in Emperor strike.
Before I could skim more than a couple of the other names, Joules yanked away the paper and showed it to the guys. Sol frowned. Kentarch remained cool. Gabe tilted his head, hawklike.
“Where’d you find that?” I asked.
“A lot of records in that office. Grand reading.”
Sol looked disappointed in me. “I thought we were all allies now. Why didn’t you tell us you might be a demigod?”
“We’re not . . . they’re not . . . Minors aren’t demigods. And I didn’t tell you ’cause you all kept yammering about not trusting them. Not a great time to be revealing that I might be one.”
“Might?” Kentarch said. “You didn’t see Kos’s tableau?”
“Minors doan have them. The only way for a Sword to confirm another was through touch, and I couldn’t take her hand.” I’d been tempted to, but she had refused: I’d rather you be alive and active in the fight than sure and dead.
Gabe asked, “Are you related to Kos? The Cups were blood-related, and the Pentacles looked as if they were as well.”
I shook my head. “The Swords weren’t kin. They sought out each other based on certain characteristics.”
Joules crossed his arms over his chest. “This I have to hear.”
Biting back my frustration, I said, “According to Kos, all of the Minors survived the Flash, either because they prepared, or because fate stepped in. So the Swords were looking for someone still kicking. He or she would be a leader of the people, and like the Chariot, they’d be talented with weapons. That’s one of the Swords’ powers.”
Kentarch’s brows drew together. “That leaves a lot of potentials.”
Words dragged out of me, I said, “Swords also like to build strongholds, centers of order.”
“Like a fort!” Joules said in an ah-ha tone. “Fort Arcana.”
“Kos thought I was the page, but other Swords had different opinions. There are nine other names on that list.”
“Your feckin’ name is Jack, also known as a knave, also known as a page. Admit it—something was driving you to find her and then this place.”
The Lovers had called me their knave. Had they somehow sensed it? “Maybe there was. But I meant what I said in the avalanche. I was also driven because we had nowhere else to go. We never could have built a place like this in Louisiana, not in this weather.”
