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Gabe said, “All the confirmed Swords are dead. Does this mean you will never know for certain?”

My stomach clenched. “Never.” My own identity was a puzzle that would go unsolved—for the rest of my life.

Yet some things made me believe it. When I’d first met Dominija in person, he’d told me more than once that something wasn’t right about me. And what if my dizziness in Paul’s sphere wasn’t due to hunger alone? I might’ve been sensitive to an Arcana’s power. “Kos had been on her way to verify me when Richter struck. She figured I’d been killed.”

Joules said, “You have to tell the Reaper this. It’s clear he’s got big plans for you and his family. Bet those plans’ll change when he finds out what you are. After all, Minors now hurt Majors and vice versa.”

“The Swords wanted to take out Richter, ouais, but who doesn’t? They feared he’d destroy the earth. Dominija knows I’m in love with Evie. I’d die before I ever hurt her.”

With a carnival sneer, Joules pulled out another piece of paper from his jacket. “It’s true the Swords meant to grease the Emperor, but they’d identified a bigger threat. Boyo, your lass was target number one.”

Though Kos had said as much, I snatched the page from Joules and found a transcription of a radio call from the King of Pentacles. That fils de putain had blamed Evie for the premeditated murder of fourteen Cups and the “wanton destruction” of an entire settlement of innocent people. He’d also stated that the Empress and her allies would be coming for the rest of the Minors to destroy them as well.

I glowered at Joules. “Of course the Swords marched out to act based on intel like this. Their job was to protect humans from Arcana.”

Sol asked, “How can we ever know if your suit was decent or not?”

Joules raised his chin. “Canna. Dead men tell no tales.”

I narrowed my eyes and gazed up toward the bunkroom. “Doan they . . . ?”

Later that night, we sat down to a dinner sourced from the hangar’s stockroom. Though we were glad to be eating something other than MREs, the mood was somber.

I’d called Dominija and Evie to come clean about everything, but she’d been napping with Tee. The Reaper had been coolly collected as he’d asked me questions I couldn’t answer.

Do you feel like you are a Sword? Do you think the game steered you along your path? Will another potential Page of Swords target the Empress?

But in the end, he’d said, “The hangar is a win. Good show, mortal.”

We’d arranged for Kentarch to go to the castle tomorrow to swap out supplies. Dominija had offered us fresh food, seeds, and livestock. We would send rockets and launchers.

After that call, the guys and I had investigated the Swords’ lockers to see what kind of people they were. We’d learned about them through everything from personal letters to highlighted passages in philosophy books to video diaries. Our conclusion? The Swords had been good people who’d given their lives to a cause they believed in.

Saving the world.

Even Joules had been convinced.

Here in this hangar, the Swords had trained and studied and strategized together, and then they’d left to go do battle—and to die.

I couldn’t help but feel like history would repeat itself for any people who made this place their home.

Yet the more I’d learned about the Swords, the less I felt like one. These had been exceptional people—scholars, doctors, architects, engineers. I’d never even graduated from high school!

While they’d remained altruistic, my thoughts and instincts had gone really dark, really quick after the apocalypse. I’d given Evie grief when she’d waved at strangers out in the Ash, telling her live people were the worst kind.

Not so with the Swords. As the earth cratered, they’d just worked harder to help others.

Afterward, none of the guys felt like talking much, the high of the hangar discovery dampened. We sat at the table where the Swords had eaten, each lost in thought.

“The mission,” Kentarch suddenly said, his words like a bomb blast in the quiet, “is everything.”

29

The Empress

Day 806 A.F.

“I’m going to train,” Aric abruptly announced from his desk. He’d been analyzing ration and fuel reports while I played with Tee in front of the fireplace. With a glance up at the clock on the wall, he rose. “Jack is calling in five minutes.”

“Huh?” It’d been four days since I’d learned he might be a Sword. Jack had told Aric they were slammed going through all the hangar’s records and settling in, so I’d given him space, even though I’d yearned to talk to him about this new development.

“He has a computer set up for a video call.” Aric kissed my forehead, then Tee’s. “You can connect via my laptop.” And with that he left us.