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Hesitation. “I do have some . . . bad news. I won’t be able to visit here again.”

I stilled. “Why?”

“I can’t sustain this water form, not like I used to.” She gave a wobbly arm wave. “Even such a small outlay is too taxing for me. And, as you know, the more I use my powers, the faster I age.” Circe’s tone grew distant, and I pictured her surveying the star-lit ocean from her home on the shore. “As my abilities ebb, my Arcana life becomes like a dream. Surely I wasn’t once a creature who lived in an abyss. Surely I didn’t relish sacrifices. But I was and I did. Perhaps I did enough good to offset my crimes.”

“Enough good? Everyone who lives in Port Edwin thanks the gods—and you—for its existence.” I frowned. “But you’re right; you shouldn’t be making this water form.”

I was already planning a trip for the family to go see her when she said, “I need to talk to you about something else as well.” Her voice sounded apologetic as she revealed, “I have . . . cancer.”

Her news stunned me to silence. When I regained speech, I said, “You’re barely forty.”

“I believe I poisoned myself when I first communed with the ocean. Turns out the waters were polluted even before the Flash. Using my powers has just made the cancer worse.”

“How bad is it?” I’d explored plant-based treatments. If caught early enough, I could slow the spread.

Circe sighed. “I’m eaten up with it. I can sense it in all the watery cells of my being.”

No, no. “Come stay with me here.” I had the urge to wrap her water form in my arms. “Or I can come to you. You belong with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“As in murder?” She gasped theatrically. “I thought we’d gotten past that!”

“You won’t make me laugh. How long do you think you have?”

She clucked her tongue. “Half a year. And Sol’s not doing so well either. The last time I checked in with him, he told me that his heart hurts every time he shines. But he’ll never stop.”

“Never.” Solomón Heliodoro was the ultimate showman, and the sun was his shtick.

Circe’s confession devastated me, sadness like a lead weight on my chest. She’d once told me she wanted to be cremated upon her death and returned to the sea. Would she make that final journey within half a year?

“Now, now, none of that,” she said. “I’m sorry to tell you these things on your birthday. But I wanted to deliver the news in waterperson.”

“I’m glad you did. Never hold back anything you need to tell me.”

“In that case, I want you to start planning for the future. You can’t be the last Arcana. We’re already too old, our powers too compromised. Sister almighty, you must consider strategy. You have to think about ending this life.”

To go through what we had without our youthful strength and abilities would have been grueling. Still . . . “I can’t leave Jack. I’ll never leave him.”

“But he will leave you. He will die. Evie, you’re so caught up in this life that you’ve forgotten you’re meant to fight in another one.”

“I can’t. It’s not just Jack. It’s the kids too.”

She sighed again. “I worry about you. I will die worrying about you.” Voice conveying her sorrow, she said, “You have to face reality.”

As I’d told her years ago, I said, “Not my strong suit.”

“What about Death? You promised him you’d be there for him in the next game.”

“He didn’t foresee this many of us living on. But he would understand that I can’t abandon my family, that I can’t leave behind our sixteen-year-old son. And more, I can’t do that to Matthew.” If the Fool had a plan for the world, I’d do my part.

I would never be the Betrayer again.

Words echoing a long-ago conversation, Circe said, “It figures in this game you’d be a glutton for loyalty.”

When her water form wobbled again, I said, “We’ll talk about this another time. Rest up, please. I’ll leave for Port Edwin at dawn. I can be by your side in a couple of weeks.”

“We’re not there yet, sister. I will call for you. . . .”

I’d just said good-bye to Circe when Jack joined me at the riverbank. “I’m sorry, bébé.”

“You heard?”

He nodded.

“I’m going to travel to the port as soon as she gives me the okay.”

“Mais yeah. We’ll all go. If you think it’s safe for two Arcana to be near each other.”

“Circe will never hurt me.”

“I know, I know.” Jack kicked a stone by the bank. “She raises good points about what living on could mean for you in the next game. Dominija said immortality would be the utterest hell. I finally understand how awful it would be. And every year you live, the more likely you are to ‘win.’” Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “With Circe and Sol sick, it’ll be you and Matthew left. Is coo-yôn also feeling the effects of his powers? He might not have quit ’em like you did.”