Arcana Rising (The Arcana Chronicles Book 5)

by Kresley Cole

  He’d also read my own book. The information within had filled in blanks that had plagued him for centuries. Among a dozen other mysteries, he’d wondered how I’d defeated the Centurion, how I’d survived the Tower and the Angel’s fire, and what I’d done with the Magician’s chronicles after I’d killed him and Lark (burned after reading).

  He’d also suspected Lark could create animals, but he’d never been able to verify that ability until now.

  Just as he’d never been able to verify the Minor Arcana. Which made sense. The Minors had probably steered clear of him, letting him do his deadly thing. Would they repeat that strategy in this game?

  Even after all these weeks, I still couldn’t shake my ominous countdown feeling; maybe I sensed their approach?

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock. If not them, then what threat loomed . . . ?

  I’d told Aric about my sense. He’d replied, “We can’t possibly do more to prepare against enemies, so try not to focus on it too much. Remember: this game will try to make you insane.”

  He’d scratched his head at Gran’s cryptic writings in the back of my chronicles, promising to keep delving for answers.

  Since she’d passed away, I’d tried to focus on good memories of her. She had taught me a lot about my abilities, and not all of the information had been geared toward killing.

  She’d told me an Empress could fashion wood into whatever shapes she liked; in my pocket was a wedding ring for Aric that I’d painstakingly crafted.

  I’d figured the band would need to be as resilient as metal, so I’d chosen one of the strongest trees in the world: lignum vitae. Latin for wood of life.

  Aric would like that detail.

  After secretly measuring his ring finger—I’d used a tiny vine as he slept—I’d created prototype rings, honing my ability.

  Once I was satisfied with the band, I’d reinforced it with everything in me, making the wood as strong as steel. I’d darkened the grain and smoothed it, until the band was gleaming black.

  I might not be wielding the earthshaking plant powers I’d had in the past, but I could make a mean wedding ring.

  It would be as enduring as he was.

  But for some reason, I kept hesitating to give it to him.

  Because of Jack? I didn’t know. I tried not to think about my first love at all, figuring I could keep the tourniquet on a little longer. That noose around my heart might be limiting what I felt for Aric, but I probably couldn’t handle anything stronger than the crazy love I already had for him. . . .

  When we reached the front door, he stopped and pulled my hood back, assessing my face. “Perhaps you’re simply fatigued from lack of rest.”

  Sometimes the tourniquet slipped. Especially when I slept. “Yeah, maybe.” I still wasn’t free from nightmares about the Emperor’s attack. Last night, I’d shot up in bed screaming. Aric had been right there for me.

  “It was just a dream.” He pulled me against him. “You’re safe, love.”

  I shook in his arms. The Emperor had to be stopped. I believed Circe—Richter would usher in hell on earth.

  “Sievā, shh, shh,” Aric murmured, rocking me. “I’ve got you.”

  “Jack used to say that.” I tensed, couldn’t believe I’d uttered that aloud. Where’s your head at, Evie? “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Aric said firmly. “You should talk about him. He was a big part of your life.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Aric pulled me back to face him. “Do you try not to think about him?”

  After a hesitation, I nodded.

  “Jack saved your life and protected you when you were vulnerable. You and I would never have this time if not for him.”

  “I . . . let’s not talk about that.” I reached for Aric, seeking that oblivion. “Kiss me. . . .”

  Now I assured him, “I’ll get more sleep tonight.” Maybe I’d been too mentally damaged by everything. Maybe I should have taken more time to grieve Jack.

  No, no, I couldn’t have. I wanted—needed—to make Aric happy. And we were on borrowed time. . . .

  I had believed dying in a fight against Richter would be easier than simply accepting what he’d done. Now I knew what would be harder than both.

  Losing Aric.

  I couldn’t stifle a shudder.

  “Sievā, is there anything more distracting you?”

  I shrugged. “Just thinking about Richter a lot.”

  “We should train more in the coming weeks. We’ll add an hour each day.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me against him. “You have to be ready to fight. If anything happened to you . . .” He swallowed thickly. “I think I would lose my mind.”

  Bingo, Aric.

  That’s exactly what happens.

  43

  Day 499 A.F.

  “No male ever had roommates like this trio of females,” Aric said drily.

  He and I lay in bed, gazing at each other by firelight, trying not to notice how the entire mountaintop trembled.

  Circe’s moat sloshed with whirlpools and eddies, like barely contained violence. In fact, the river often swelled up into rapids, the castle all but waterfront property. Last week, she’d sent a geyser a mile in the air.

  All that pent-up energy, just waiting to be unleashed.

  I lowered my voice to say, “I caught you eyeing the river earlier with an uneasy look. She could swamp us as an afterthought.”

  Even worse? I’d seen the Priestess’s girl water-form moving in the fog—walking among us, like a ghost. When she’d gone still, she’d turned fully transparent. I’d looked right through her.

  The other night Aric and I had found wet footsteps leading out of the indoor pool, but no steps leading in. Circe had hydro-ported from one body of water to another, then had been loose inside the castle.

  He exhaled. “Swamp us? Or possibly erode the mountain right out from under us?”

  “Whoa.” I hadn’t thought of that. “I believe she genuinely cares about you. Looking back, I can see she was doing anything she could to help get us together. But will the heat of battle make her strike?”

  “She has garnered a lot of control over the games.”

  “Like you.”

  He inclined his head. “Yes. In any case, she’s never betrayed me.”

  “But I have betrayed her.” I’d finally gotten him to explain what had happened between me and Circe in the last game.

  After convincing her that I was different—from the previous times I’d backstabbed her—we’d become friends. But when I’d murdered my ally Fauna, Circe had grown suspicious. Before she could slip away to safety, I’d abducted her, chaining her in my cellar, delaying the kill so Death wouldn’t hear of it or see a new icon.

  Aric had found her down there—directly after I’d tried to poison him. He’d saved her life, earning her loyalty.

  I bit my lip. “Maybe she’ll only target me.” Had my countdown feeling been about Circe? Maybe I shouldn’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop; I should be waiting for the wave to crest.

  “Sievā, targeting you is targeting me.”

  Some beast roared in the night. The animal calls and cries were a constant reminder of Lark’s growing arsenal.

  “The longer the game stretches on, the stronger we each become.”

  Except me. “Does Richter?”

  “Yes,” Aric said quietly. “And Fortune and the Sun.”

  “Sol said he would be able to light up the entire world, controlling millions of Baggers. Could he?”

  “Possibly. But if Fortune alone realizes her full powers, then she has already defeated us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her luck-energy manipulation,” he said. “She could blindly affect a battle—before it even started. Her ability could guarantee that her alliance would win any conflict.”

  “The odds would always be fixed in their favor?”

  He shook his head. “Not odds. Fixed outcomes. We w
ould have no odds.”

  Maybe she was the root of what I’d sensed. Damn it, something was coming! I grabbed Aric’s shoulder. “I want you to wear your armor as much as possible. Please. If you died . . .”

  He clasped my face. “I need you to understand something. No matter what happens in the future, no matter what this game brings, these months with you have been worth all my loneliness and pain.” He gave me brief, hard kiss. “I would repeat those millennia, just for this taste of life with you.”

  “Again, I love you too, Aric. Now, wear your fucking armor.”

  His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “I’m likely to fall in battle.”

  “You haven’t in two thousand years.” Then I frowned. “Do you no longer expect us to have a life together?”

  “A long one?” He shook his head. “I told you the odds of us both living to eighty in this world was exceedingly slim, especially if the game toils on. We’re soldiers, and we’re at war. But we will return.”

  “Where will players come from in the future?” I asked. “Most of us have no family left.”

  “But every Arcana has a closest relative somewhere in the world. That person will continue the line.”

  Digesting everything he’d told me, I said, “If we’re soldiers at war, then let’s go out in a blaze of glory—together.”

  “Should both of us lose, how will we know not to kill each other in the future? The mere idea that I might hurt you again . . .” His eyes flickered with emotion. “We could write to our next incarnations, but who will deliver such a missive?”

  “When you asked me to be with you months ago, how had you planned for this?”

  “I would have trusted Lark to carry letters on,” he said. “Now we each have a target on our back.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do another seven-century stint.” He’d told me and Jack that immortality was the utterest hell. “But I couldn’t handle it either. I’m not built to be alone. Aric, if something happened to you . . . I couldn’t . . .” Losing them both? There was no tourniquet tight enough. “Winning the game would be my absolute worst nightmare.”

  Voice gone gruff, he said, “You truly mean that.”

  I nodded. “We need to figure out another way to preserve our memories.”

  “We could bargain with the Fool—”

  “Out of the question.” I inhale a breath, then softened my tone. “What about Circe? Maybe we could ask her to cast a spell.”

  “Though we might not even trust her not to kill us?”

  Good point. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “We’ll talk to her.” He reached for me, pulling me closer. “Come here.”

  I went into his arms, and for a time, I didn’t have to think at all. . . .

  44

  Day 511 A.F.

  “The unclean one!” Lark called when I stopped by her room. She was sitting on her bed, in the middle of a pile of animals.

  Aric was finishing up some other translations, so I’d told him I would go check in with Lark. Secretly I wanted to make sure she wasn’t planning our murders with all her animals and such. “Are you taking a break?”

  “A few minutes. Just to rest my wings. I mean, my falcon’s wings.” She waved to the bed. “Cop a squat.”

  I waded through animals, then scooted a grumpy badger family out of the way so I could sit beside Lark.

  “You’re making the boss happy,” she said. “Like a thousand times more happy than when you two hit it off before. I heard the man whistling the other morning. For real?”

  “For real.” I reached over and plucked feathers from her hair.

  With an irritated growl, she shook her mane out.

  I insistently tucked her hair behind her ears. “Your ears are getting pointed.”

  She slapped her claw-tipped fingers over them and hissed at me.

  “I think they’re adorable.”

  With a wary expression, she lowered her hands. “Whatever.” Fretting her lip with a fang, she said, “Do you think Finn’ll be cool with my changes?”

  “I do. In past games, he loved your animal attributes. I have a memory of him telling you so.”

  “Really?” That got her to smile. “I’m so ready to get back together with him. When he was at Fort Arcana, we passed letters via falcon, really getting to know each other. I’m a goner for that boy.”

  “Cyclops was supposed to lead him to you.” As soon as Finn’s leg had healed enough for him to ride. “What happens now if you find him?”

  Fidgeting with a claw, she said, “My falcon can reel him in.”

  “Reel him in . . . where? Back here?”

  More fidgeting.

  “Oh, shit. Seriously, Lark?” Aric would have an aneurism.

  She finally met my gaze. “Where’d you think we’d go? Either Finn stays or I leave. You wanna get rid of me?”

  “No, not at all.” I sighed. “I don’t know what I was imagining. Maybe that he would have a pad nearby, one as tricked out as his old one. You two would date.” If he was even still alive.

  “Will you help me with the boss?”

  “Once you find Finn, I’ll try to talk to him. But I can’t promise anything.”

  “Thanks, Eves.” She grinned widely, flashing her sharp fangs, reminding me why Aric would balk hard at this. Finn might be my ally, but he was still an Arcana. “So what’s it like to, uh, live with someone?”

  “I thought it would take some getting used to, but it’s been easy.” Because Aric and I fit together seamlessly. Plus he was turning out to be a perfect husband, no training necessary.

  This morning, I’d awakened to find a bloom in a vase beside the bed. He’d grown the rose himself, had planted the seed two months ago.

  Roses could be difficult to grow from seed, so for him to have made the effort . . . and to bring forth a bud . . .

  He’d given me the very first one.

  A white rose, like the one on his flag. I’d painted it; he’d grown it.

  Symbols, waypoints. The rose connection between us had spanned centuries and was ongoing. Just like Lark and Finn’s infinity connection endured.

  I tilted my head at her. “You’re not really asking me about living together, are you? You’re trying to girl-talk with me. About sex.”

  “Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never done it—girl-talk or the deed—and you have, so . . .”

  “So you want to know what sex is like?” Aric and I did spend a lot of time at it.

  Early on, he’d coaxed me to describe in detail every sexual dream I’d had about him—so he could recreate them. Last week in the dance studio, he’d fulfilled another one. After I’d danced for him, he’d peeled off my workout clothes, lifting me atop the barre so he could lick my damp skin, wedging his hips between my thighs. . . .

  I told Lark, “It’s exciting.” Understatement. As he and I discovered what our bodies could do together, we experimented a lot. Just this morning, that white rose had led to some kissing and then more.

  Much more.

  I nearly fanned myself, quickly diverting my thoughts from that memory. Clearing my throat, I said, “Imagine the thrill you get from flirting—when your stomach knots and your toes curl and you can’t catch your breath—and multiply it by a thousand.”

  Lark got a dreamy look on her face.

  “I think Finn will make you really happy.”

  Her pointed ears twitched. “Are you happy with Death?”

  I was madly in love with him. So why was his wedding ring still in my pocket?

  Yesterday I’d headed to the training yard early, determined to give him the ring. He’d been on horseback, looking as devastating as ever. . . .

  His body went tense when he caught sight of me. That’s my husband. He dismounted and stalked toward me, spurs ringing, his gaze gleaming in the dark like a shower of stars. “I missed you, wife.” His expression was possessive—and intent.

  Pulse racing, I stepped back. He moved closer. There I was, st
alked by Death, and I had to fight the urge to run into his arms.

  He maneuvered me till my back met the stable wall. He dipped down to kiss my neck, having quickly discovered how sensitive I was there.

  I sighed, just about to give him the ring . . . when snow started to fall.

  He felt me stiffen and pulled back to search my face. “What is it, love?”

  I gazed up at him and lied: “Not a thing.”

  Now I told Lark, “I’m crazy about Aric.”

  “That’s not what I asked, Eves. Are you happy?”

  “When I’m with him and I can forget everything that’s happened, then I . . .” I what? “Then it’s good.”

  Her expression said she didn’t really believe me, but she was going to let it go. “When I get Finn back, I wanna sleep with him. A lot.”

  “Paul’s got contraceptive shots.”

  “Sweet! I’ll leave the breeding to my animals.”

  I made a sound of agreement. Sing it, sister. “Why are you breeding them so much?” She’d been committed to it before, but never like this.

  “I’m nervous all the time, and it makes me feel safer. It’s like stress-eating. Consider it stress-breeding.”

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “Because we’ve got freaking Poseida out there, threatening to tsunami us! I’m not pointing a claw or anything, but I’m pretty sure the river ate one of my tigers.”

  “Come on, no, it didn’t.” I scoffed, but did I really know? Probably not a good time to tell Lark that Circe was . . . moving among us.

  “The Priestess might like you and the boss, but who am I to her? I don’t want to go the way of that tiger.”

  “The fictional tiger victim that was fictionally eaten?”

  She raised her chin. “If the water gets much higher, the menagerie will flood.”

  Waves did lap at the compound gates. Each time Aric had planned to talk to Circe about working a spell for us, the water had frothed. I’d held him back.

  “You saw her tidal wave,” Lark said. “How big was it?”

  I admitted, “As tall as a skyscraper.”