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Every suit in the deck is missing its later cards, ending at fives.

First years are supposed to be able to use only the first five cards in each suit and are limited thusly.

The expectation is that first years have no real training with tarot before their entry, despite nobles getting a clear advantage by early exposure within their families.

Additionally, a first year’s magic is too “immature” to handle more than the first five in a suit without the card reversing and becoming dangerous, twisted, and uncontrolled power.

The mere suggestion of anything more being possible is forbidden.

Liam’s eyes widen. Then his brow furrows, almost angry. “Still hiding behind tarot when you’re scared, I see.” Then, everything about him softens once more. “Don’t do this, please.”

I didn’t know that this was what I would be sacrificing when I threw that card into the Arcanum Chalice. I thought that I would be destroying any chance of Kaelis thinking there could be a peaceful future between us. Not a second chance with the first man I ever truly loved.

“I must do this,” I say, more to myself than to him. He’s not real. None of this ever will be. What I’m about to do is akin to cutting off my own arm. Fate must be killed with force.

As I swing my hand, the Five of Swords magically lifts from among the cards that hover around me.

I catch it with two fingers and move it across me.

There’s a rush of wind. The card is enveloped by a silvery glow that hardens into a rapier; the light vanishes as I grip the sword’s hilt.

The second my hand closes around it, in the back of my mind, the weapon screams for blood.

Rapier in hand, I lunge for Liam. Reality bends and twists with a nauseating tilt. The room distorts like wax figures left out in the sun.

Liam’s expression contorts as well. The specter who’s taken the shape of the man I once knew shows his true form. A smile too wicked. Eyes too sharp. This is not Liam but a shade of him created by the Chalice. The monstrosity lifts a hand and calls upon his own card from his jacket pocket.

The Ace of Wands. The card summons a wall of fire from his feet.

I reel, stumbling and falling to the ground.

The flames lick at my exposed hands and lap at the side of my face as I fall.

I drop the sword with a clatter, and a deeper, sharper agony than the burns shoots through my body.

The Five of Swords is a weapon that demands bloodshed, and if not heeded, it will exact that price of its own accord from its caster.

Before I can get to the rapier again, Liam follows up with the Six of Swords.

“Listen to me.” His magically enhanced voice soothes the furrow of my brow. It’s a balm to the stinging ache of my heart and the growing pain from my abandoned rapier. “Give up this crusade and let go of your hurt. Together we can achieve great things. We will be happy.”

For a moment, I falter. The Six of Swords and its magical ability to smooth over the heart’s pains overtakes me.

The strength in his voice, the love that’s so apparent in his eyes…

it nearly sways me. And there’s the ghostly memories of his body on mine.

Visions of nights that I have never experienced—that I might experience if I make a different decision—dance across my mind.

Every hasty kiss. The feeling of his mouth on mine, my nails in his flesh.

All the words I could possibly say reduced to one: more.

My fingers close around the sword I’d called upon, and the pain abates as the cry for blood returns. “I will not give in.”

I push myself off the ground and almost collapse again. I’m exhausted. My muscles are already spent. Even my magic falters.

But my will doesn’t. I have one more card in me. One more attack before I’m spent physically and magically. I must make it count.

I grit my teeth and steel myself. A flick of my wrist, and the Ace of Swords sends a gust of wind that leaves him reeling. It’s my one window of opportunity. I lunge.

My blade meets its mark, plunging straight through his chest. Our bodies crash into each other. My grip goes slack on the rapier and it vanishes, finally getting the blood it was so hungry for.

“I would’ve loved you well, Clara,” Liam murmurs, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

“I know,” I whisper back as I grip him tightly. The bright lights of the chandeliers go dark. One by one.

We collapse to the polished marble floor of the Fatefinders Club. It cracks under our weight. I pull him to me as he goes limp.

Ripping my future—my once destiny—from the fabric of my soul was never going to be easy. And somewhere beyond the realm of my perception in this fabricated reality, all the students and faculty of the academy are watching. Including Kaelis himself.

The room fades as the light leaves his eyes. Dancing figures evaporate like mist on the morning’s light. The final chandelier goes dark. Liam is the last to vanish, from my arms.

I am alone, kneeling before the Arcanum Chalice. The vast room is as silent as a grave.