When Finn dropped down into a seat, he banged his bad leg, gritting his teeth. He lived with that pain every day, had only one hope of ever getting it fixed.
Yet I was standing in the way, which hadn’t improved my relationship with Lark.
Her single-minded pursuit had fixated on one goal. We’d had another clash earlier:
“Just admit you’re wrong about Paul,” she demanded. “He’ll forgive you. And then he can help Finn.”
“I’m not wrong.”
She studied my face. “Then are you right?”
Right in the head? Right in the definitive without-a-doubt sense? I had no good answer to that, so I asked, “Have you been talking to Paul when you bring him meals?”
She peered down at her claws. “Boss said not to.”
In other words, yes. “Lark, I believe that my grandmother was warning me against him—so he murdered her.”
She slapped her palm against her forehead. “That’s really freaking stupid, unclean one. Who the hell would kill the dying?”
Sometimes I wanted to strangle Lark. She was like an annoying little sister. And like siblings, we fought and made up.
“Got a joke for you,” Finn said between bites. “What do you call sixty-nining between two cannibals?”
I took my milk and dry toast to the table. “An exercise in trust?”
“No.” His lips curved. “The first course. But I like where your head’s at, blondie.”
“That’s really awful, Finn,” I said, though I had to fight a grin.
Looking pleased, he said, “The world might be different, but we’ve still got to find the humor. I’ve been working on Death. Talked to him today.”
“Did you?” Though Aric didn’t consider Finn a friend and likely never would, he’d gone so far as to say that the Magician’s heart was in the right place. “What’d you talk about?” I nibbled the toast, trying to decide if it’d stay down. Fifty-fifty chance.
“Guy stuff. I can’t betray the code. But the more I get to know the Reaper, the more I like him. You’ve got stout taste in dudes.” At my expression, he said, “Sorry. Boneheaded thing to say.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I considered asking Finn his opinion about Matthew’s message. No, he’d tell Lark, and she’d tell Aric.
“So, are you amped about becoming a mom?” Everyone seemed excited but me. Even Lark had said, “Maybe this could end the game. Finn and I might actually have a shot at a normal existence together!”
I gave him the look his question deserved. “I’m seventeen.”
“Maybe in this life. Lark said you’ve clocked more than a century between your incarnations. We all have, right?”
Technically, I was well over a hundred. I guessed I couldn’t view Aric as two thousand years old unless I copped to being a centenarian.
Taking another bite, Finn said, “Even though you’re hella old, I think you’ll make a great mom. Mothering is what Empresses are supposed to do, right?”
As a little girl, I’d played with baby farm animals—not baby dolls. I’d never even liked kids. “As the Empress, I think I’m supposed to kill.”
“But you’re the Arcana who pushed hardest to end the killing. I thought about you a lot when I was on the road with Selena. If you could ally with her after she tricked you, I figured I could forgive her for targeting us for elimination and all.” In a softer tone, he said, “I think that’s the most important thing to do as a parent—forgive.”
Finn’s parents hadn’t forgiven him for his involuntary pranks. They’d shipped him across the country, booting him from his beloved California.
“Speaking of forgiveness,” he continued, “Joules and Gabe are out there, starving. Lark’s falcon spotted them, and they’re looking rough.”
If Jack lived, was he starving?
And yet here I was again, holed up in this castle, not helping, not doing anything but biding my time.
Finn laid aside the remains of his sandwich. “Death hasn’t changed his mind about throwing them a bone?”
“It’s still a solid no-go.” When I’d broached it a while back, Aric had said, “If we feed the strays, they will never move on, and a larger convergence of cards could lead Richter here sooner. Plus, I make it a rule not to extend a hand to those plotting against me.”
I told Finn, “Maybe if Joules wasn’t so bent on electrocuting Aric.”
“True. I had to give it a try.”
“I’ll keep working on him,” I said, even though my influence on Death was negligible these days. I couldn’t even get him to jettison my grandmother’s killer until the weather turned. “What was it like being on the road with Joules and Gabriel?” The three of them had teamed up after the catastrophe at Fort Arcana and targeted Richter. To no avail.
“Besides feeling like a third wheel to their epic bromance? It was cool. Sometimes they’d open up about their pre-Flash lives. Get this: Patrick Joules, the great and powerful Tower, was a choirboy.”
“Brash, foulmouthed Joules?” Every other word out of his mouth was feck. “You lie.”
“I swear! Self-described goody-goody. At least, before he met Calanthe.” The Temperance Card had been the love of Joules’s life. Unfortunately, Death had killed her in self-defense.
While I struggled to picture Joules as a choirboy, I asked, “Wasn’t Gabriel born into a cult?”
“Kidnapped by one when he was a baby.”
“Jesus, how awful.”
“They worshipped him as an angel.” In the history of the games, Gabriel had been a righteous guardian, a protector of good. “Funny thing: Gabe wasn’t born with wings. On Day Zero, he had to leap off a mountain into nothing and hope those wings shot out of his back on the way down.”
“Holy shit.” That reminded me of one of my escapes from Aric, when I’d made a blind leap off a bridge, with no idea if I might hit debris in the water. He’d ditched his armor to dive in and save me—just in time for cannibals to fire on us.
Shot twice, Aric had ducked behind a boulder. I’d never forget the way he’d looked when he’d peered up at the sky, gaze stark. Had he been thinking that the Empress would always bring him misery? That she’d forever ruin his life?
I cleared my throat to say, “Um, Gabriel must be a big believer to jump without wings.”
Finn shook his head. “Not at all. If he hadn’t, he would’ve had some ‘help’ from the cult members. He was scared shitless, but he had no choice.”
“Not a leap of faith? And here I thought you were telling me this story to give me perspective with this baby.”
“I think you’re like Gabe—you got no choice but to leap.” Finn winked at me and said, “Might as well make it a swan dive, blondie.”
Would I ever get my wings? I forced a smile. “So, you and Lark are hitting it off like a house on fire. You guys barely left her room today.”
He blushed. “Taking advantage of the storm, since her guard duties are lessened. Eves, I dig her.” He pulled at his pajama collar. “To the point of, like, love and all.”
When I couldn’t stop a silly grin, he gruffly said, “Shut it.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t say anything! I’m happy for you two.” My smile faded. “What are you using for contraception?”
His face reddened even more. “Jeez, Mom. If you must know, I stored up on condoms when I was out on the road.” Relief. “When I arrived here, my worldly possessions consisted of one crutch, the clothes on my back, and a metric ass-ton of rubbers. Death would freak balls if we spawned, wouldn’t he? Hey, if we had a son and you had a daughter—”
“Don’t even go there.”
He held up his hands with a mischievous look.
“Finn, can I give you some advice?” At his eager nod, I said, “Try not to push it with Aric. He might seem like a normal, okay guy, but at heart, he’s still a knight from another era, still an assassin.” He’d made a fortune killing kings and toppling governments with just a handshake.
“I fe
el for the dude.”
I blinked. “For Aric?” The hypnotically handsome, supernatural billionaire? The man with the I have power over all I survey vibe?
“Sure. He’s got to be feeling stressed. He’s supposed to prep our defenses, manage our resources, guard you and the kid on the way and everybody under this roof. And he knows how unhappy you are. It’s got to be weighing on him.”
Then why wouldn’t Aric relent? I’d caught him staring at me, as if willing me to understand his position with Paul. He truly didn’t believe the man deserved banishment.
“I try to fly under the radar,” Finn said. “For instance, I didn’t tell Death that I ramble around his digs invisible and naked whenever the fancy strikes me.” Irrepressible Finn. “But sometimes Lark gets a little . . . aggressive.” Red of tooth and claw? “You mind if I pass on your advice to her?”
I nodded. “Please, try to get through to her. Aric’s patience has a limit.”
Yesterday, Lark had gotten snarky with him for the first time in, like, ever.
Aric had summed up the incident: “As her arsenal grows, so too does her attitude.” At times, I heard animal sounds on the mountainside that I couldn’t place—sounds that filled me with fear.
Just as they had Gran.
Now that Circe was weakening, Lark grew braver, especially after she’d used her faunagenesis to revive a sparrow a few days ago.
Amidst all the Arcana powers I’d witnessed, Lark’s resurrection ability was crazy even for me. I’d watched that bird’s first twitching movements in awe, only to shudder at the chilling blankness in its eyes.
She’d told me that she planned to send her wolves out to raid a Flash-fried zoo, scavenging for assorted bones: “I’m thinking about cooking up a bear. Wouldn’t a grizzly be wicked? Or maybe something for the moat to keep that water witch on her toes.”
But I’d also gotten the strangest feeling that Lark had already been doing this feat in secret.
Finn said, “So I’ll talk to Lark, and you can dialogue with Death about things. He hates that you’re hurting.”
Then maybe Aric should do something about it? I’d ask him again the next time we were together.
“You wanna hear something weird, blondie? I know we’re in a messed-up situation, but I’ve never been more stoked about life than I have been over the last two weeks.”
“Not even when you were living in Cali before the Flash? I know you dream about surfing.”
With a sappy look on his face, he said, “I dream about Lark a gazillion times more.”
A gust rocked the castle, rattling the windowpanes. A deep, percussive sound thundered from what was left of the river. Ice cracked, but no SLOSH came after it.
I swallowed. Circe’s domain here had frozen solid. Maybe we were all headed for a coffin of ice. What had Matthew once called the changing weather? Snowmageddon. “Finn, what if the world doesn’t come back? How will we explain the sun to this kid? Or what a day used to look like?”
“That’s what I’m here for. Follow me.” He rose, then hobbled into the adjoining den. Pointing at the couch, he said, “Pop a squat.” When I did, he channeled his inner ringmaster to cry, “Prepare to be astounded! And dazzled! By the greatest illusionist ever to live!” He waved his hand, and a new scene surrounded us.
Suddenly we were on a beach under the sizzling sun. “Malibu?”
Sly grin. “You know it.”
“This is amazing.” My greedy gaze took in all the details—the gulls, the foam on the waves, the haze rising off the shifting sands. “I could stare forever.”
Finn dropped down on the love seat, resting his crutch between his legs, but the scene continued. “Lark and I are gonna be your kid’s favorites. After pony rides and illusion-filled bedtime stories, we’ll fill ’em up with sugar then hand ’em a kazoo.”
As if he’d conjured her, Lark padded down the stairs in fluffy bunny slippers and flannel pj’s that matched Finn’s. A train of woodland animals followed her. She sat beside Finn, gazing at the spectacle. “Whoa. The details are unreal. Bigger waves, baby!”
“My girl wants bigger waves? Then we’re gonna get totally tubular here.”
Not long after, Aric entered. His eyes began to glitter when he saw me. He wore his chain mail, looking glorious. Once he took in the scene, he said, “Make us feel it, Magician.”
“Can I do that?”
“You know how the incantation begins, and you know what you want.”
The Magician closed his eyes and muttered some chant. Soon the crashing surf began to shake the room, drowning out the sounds of the blizzard. A balmy breeze carried the salty mist over our sun-warmed faces.
Careful not to get too close to the others, Aric sat on my other side. He took my hand in his, threading our fingers together, his lids going heavy from the mere touch.
As we gazed at a fiery red Pacific sunset, peace settled over the four of us, a rare sense of harmony among Arcana. I only wished Circe could have experienced it. If a breakfast had made her envious, what would this missed experience do to her?
I finally understood how I’d been able to lure her to land in the past . . . .
At my ear, Aric said, “Some wonders still await us, love.”
Hope was a sprout reaching for the light. Once Paul was gone, we could regain all we’d lost.
Finn slipped his arm around Lark, looking like he was about to burst from happiness. He sighed, “I freaking love you guys.”
6
As I got back into bed, Aric stood by one of the windows, gazing out at the lightning-lit night.
He wore only low-slung leather pants, his tattooed chest bare. He looked like a god in the silvery flashes.
Still searching for Kentarch?
He turned to me. “I need to talk to you about something.”
I sat up against the headboard. “Me too.” I waved him on. “You go first.”
“I realized something tonight.” He sat beside me. “There are no wonders I wish to see without you by my side. Yet I feel like I’m losing you. I can’t . . . I cannot lose you.”
“This future has been forced on me. But I can let go of my resentment”—where are my wings?—“once Paul is gone. And once there are no longer any trust issues between us.”
He nodded, as if he’d expected me to say exactly that. “I spoke to him today, even reviewed your patient file.”
My lips thinned. “That so? Was it a good read?”
“His notes are meticulously detailed and thorough, his explanation of events logical. In short, Paul’s account makes sense to me.” Aric took my hand in his. “But I don’t care. He will leave this mountain tomorrow, no matter the weather. I’ll carry him away if I have to.”
My heart sped up. “What’s brought about this change?” Then I frowned. “Because you realize you’re losing me?”
Nod. “I will trust you blindly, even against my better sense. If you say these things happened, then I will believe they did. Sievā, I’ll follow where you lead.”
In a perfect world, he would have said that he trusted me because I was trustworthy. Or because Paul wasn’t. Aric had all but said he was choking down my version—so as not to risk a breakup.
Still, I’d take what I could get.
Holding my gaze, he murmured, “I look into your eyes and wonder why I haven’t already done this.”
At last! All my tension was poised to melt away—as soon as Paul left. Only then would I confide to Aric my hopes about Jack’s survival.
He cupped my face. “Can we start anew? Will you come back to me?”
Could I? Yes. “I will.” With a wry smile, I said, “And I’ve even brought company with me.”
“So you have.” He reached for my still-flat belly. This time, I took his hand and placed it. His palm was warm through my nightgown.
Pinpoints of light glowed in his starry eyes as he said, “You asked me what I wanted most. My dreams are all of you—spending a lifetime with you. I want this child
because it will come from you.” His hand shook. “I can never forget that I was your second choice.” Before I could protest, he said, “But we could share a bond neither of us has ever shared. That is what I want most. Will you accept it?”
Back at Fort Arcana, I’d chosen Jack over him. Since then, I’d made a commitment to Aric. Looking at his noble face, I knew I would honor it—even if Jack lived. “Do you truly think this kid will be okay? Bagger funk and all?”
“I’m telling you that our child will be amazing. And I’ve never lied to you.”
As with Gabriel and his involuntary leap into the unknown, I was already falling. Maybe I should laugh all the way down? If I could get up and walk with ten swords in my back—the vision Matthew had shown me—I could survive a pregnancy.
“Do you accept this bond?” Aric was holding his breath.
The night felt momentous, that hope tendril sprouting into a white rose. “Hold on a sec.” When I pulled away and climbed out of the bed, he gave a disheartened sigh.
I headed to my armoire and retrieved the ring I’d crafted for him. The red ribbon beside it brought on a pang of longing, but I’d made my decision. I returned to take Aric’s hand and place the jet-black band on his palm. “I’ll take the leap.”
“You made this for me?” His expression was adoring.
I nodded. “From lignum vitae.”
He rasped, “Wood of life.” He slipped on the ring, his eyes gone starry once more. He murmured something in Latvian. The quiet intensity and urgency of those words affected me, even if I didn’t grasp their meaning.
“What did you say?” I turned the syllables over in my mind, wishing I could understand his first language.
“By all the gods, I love you as my life. I’ve trusted you with my survival, and I’ve trusted you with my heart—which, for me, is far more vulnerable. I asked you to have a care with it.” He kissed me reverently, then leaned down to press his lips to my belly. “And you have.”
The Dark Calling Page 5