Page 3

An hour. Not a lot of time. But enough to collect myself and plan my next moves.

I swallow thickly and lean back into the chair.

Panic is only going to waste precious minutes on careless actions.

Arina needs me to be collected and strategic.

Getting out and warning her might be the only thing standing between her and a horrible death at Kaelis’s hands or, worse, being Marked and sent to the mills.

I move first to the cabinets. They’re locked, of course, but the locks are so flimsy they’re almost merely decorative.

Returning to the chairs, I pry out an upholstery nail from the satin.

It’s just long enough to reach the simple locking mechanism on the cabinet door.

With the nail and some brute force, the lock breaks and the door opens.

In the first cabinet are rows of wine bottles covered in dust. I move on to the next cabinet. It’s full of books on arcana that I have to stop myself from immediately leafing through.

Well, if I’m going to die anyway, I’m going out with a good book in hand and drunk halfway to a stupor.

On to cabinet three …

“Victory.” I’m instantly beaming from ear to ear as the third cabinet swings open.

It’s been so long since I really smiled that it actually hurts.

“Kaelis, you fucking idiot.” Arina always griped that the prince overlooked nothing, making her plotting in the academy difficult.

Based on the evidence before me, I’d beg to differ.

Unless…he wanted me to find this, and this is why he’s left me here unattended. It’s a possibility. But, even if he did, that won’t change my actions when the alternative is certain death. I’m taking my chance when I have it.

The cabinet is filled with inking tools: Human-hair paintbrushes in all sizes. Canisters of rare pigment and bottles of oil, ready to be mixed with a palette knife. And my favorite of all…inkwells and pens.

Taking up an entire shelf are blank cards. I run my thumb along their edges, savoring the feel of the paper. It’s an inker’s dream.

I don’t bother trying to cover my tracks. There’s no time. My only chance is to get as far away from Halazar as I can, as quickly as possible.

Inking one card—even a simple, bare-minimum design—will take me nearly ten minutes. As I lay out the supplies on the floor, I think about which cards I have the greatest skill with. I have time to ink three, I decide, and set to work.

I pull out two canisters of powder, one for Coins and one for Cups. But they’re both empty. Cursing, I grab for a third, Wands, also empty. The only one to have any inking powder is the fourth. I stare at the iridescent obsidian powder. Swords…useless for what I need to do.

But I’ll make it work, even though it shouldn’t.

Each suit requires its own unique pigment.

Every other Arcanist I’ve ever met can ink Swords only with the dust of falcon feathers from the Barren Mountains, Coins with the dried and crushed berries from the Desert Reaches, Wands with the ash of yew trees from the monster-infested Blood Forests, or Cups with crushed crystal from the depths of the Drowned Mines.

Being able to ink any suit with any powder is a gift, as Mother would say.

Not even she could do the same. No matter how hard I tried, it was a skill I’ve never been able to pass on to anyone else.

I scoop the powder into two inkwells and then mix it with a few drops of water from a bottle also in the cabinet. Then I dig a fountain pen into my fingertip. A drop of blood bubbles around the nib. I hold my finger over the inkwell, dripping blood into the ink.

Blood isn’t a necessary part of the process for Arcanists, but it’s the only way I know how to use a pigment designed for one suit to ink another.

Mother taught me to let the magic flow organically and allow the cards to be an extension of me.

Discovering this approach for pigment blending was a lucky break.

The ink charged with my power, I set to drawing. Even with a clock ticking in the back of my mind, my hand is steady. I’ve done this so many times it’s second nature. Before I could even read, I was drawing.

Inking cards became my lifeline. The first time I was ever alone and hungry, at thirteen, Arina’s hand in mine, our father long gone and our mother dead…I realized that I could turn my skill into food and protection. Arina followed my lead, the capricious little rebel.

As soon as the three cards are finished, I tuck two into the binding around my breasts. The third I press into my chest, and with a burst of emerald light, the card sinks into me. Magic floods my body, filling it, fueling it.

The Page of Coins grants expertise in a task for one day. And, right now, I need to be an expert in climbing. What I lack the strength for, I’ll make up in skill.

I throw back the curtains, blinking into the gray light. In the distance I can see the glittering silhouette of Eclipse City. The city is close enough to swim to, but just far enough that only fools would dare to brave the eternal white water where the Farlum River meets the sea.

Today, I’m one of those fools.

I open one of the other windows, stare down at the sheer prison wall, and swallow hard. The water below seems to stretch farther and farther away the longer I stare at it. It’s much too far to jump.

As I swing my leg over, I think—even with my abnormally good luck— this is suicide. But I’m out of options and desperate. Even if I’m playing right into the prince’s game, I’ll take my chances and go out fighting.

I can feel the magic from the Page of Coins surging through me as I begin to climb down.

The frigid rock numbs my fingers, and still I hold fast. My toes find purchase in the cracked and wind-battered stone.

Thanks to the card, I know just how to shift my weight and lock my trembling muscles to make up for the strength I’ve lost. I progress little by little.

But then the wind whips up the side of the building and the wall crumbles beneath my foot.

Off-balance, I swing. A scream rips up my throat and I swallow it.

The world spins as I look down and realize just how high I still am and just how far away the jagged rocks and river are.

I strain, slamming my body back to the wall.

My nose explodes with blood. But it’s still better than the alternative.

Had I not possessed the skills to feed Arina and myself by illegally inking cards, as the oldest in our household I would’ve been climbing like this, scrambling up and down the giant chasm known as the Descent to collect the feathers of the rare falcons that roost there, to be turned into ink.

Climbing until my nails fell off and my toes broke.

Until my fingers gave out and I fell into the canyon, my name and face lost to the mists of the Descent’s abyss forever.

That was Mother’s fate, or so the enforcers told me—a lie I’ve never believed. She was murdered. Her rope was cut. But by who, and why? I still don’t know. Even though trying to uncover the truth and exact my vengeance is what got me into this mess.

I continue my descent, trusting in the Page of Coins, in my own magic and strength. And as my muscles quiver and threaten to give out, I think of all the ways Kaelis could harm Arina. Even if I know my headstrong little sister would never admit it, Arina needs me.

At long last, I reach the bottom of the wall.

All I want to do is collapse and catch my breath, but I force myself to keep moving.

I guess I’m about forty-five minutes into my hour, and Prince Kaelis is the sort of man who would come to gather me early.

If I’m on Halazar Prison Isle when he realizes I’ve fled, I’m dead within minutes.

My only hope is to get into the river before he knows I’m gone.

Not far away, I spy a boat. The one the prince arrived on, perhaps?

It’s small enough that I could possibly row it solo, and I don’t see anyone nearby.

I’m about to make my way to it, thanking my lucky break, but then I stop: It’s too easy.

If he’s toying with me, it’s a trap. Even if he’s not, a boat will make me too noticeable.

Swimming is insanity in my weakened state, and yet somehow safer.

I reach for one of the two remaining cards, pulling forth the Ace of Cups.

Resting the card on the surface of the water, I touch it lightly.

Droplets rise and arc around me, enveloping me with raw power.

My eyes flutter closed as I inhale the ancient magic of the Ace of Cups, the first card in the suit. Its power gives me dominion over water.

Each Minor Arcana is governed by an element. Wands are fire, Swords air, Coins earth, and Cups water. The cards Two all the way through King of each suit have their own unique properties…but the Ace? That’s the beginning. The primordial essence of the suit.

Taking a bracing breath and exhaling with a mantra, “Luck is on my side,” I jump in.

The water is like ice and knocks the wind from my lungs.

Yet, I kick my feet and fight to keep my head above the surface.

Exertion warms me just enough. With the power of the Ace giving me a slight control over the element of water, I can cut through the smaller waves effortlessly. But the larger ones still overpower me.

I lose track of time. Surely, Prince Kaelis knows I’m gone by now. He’s looking for me. He’ll see the evidence and he’ll assume what I’ve done, if he isn’t tracking me already.

Keep. Swimming, I order myself with every gasp. My strength is leaving me, and the magic with it. The current is threatening to pull me under. And the city is still so far away…

Memories of the Starcrossed Club and all its comforts give me strength.

My friends. No, my family. Bristara took Arina and me in, gave us hope.

Even on the darkest of days in Halazar, my thoughts went to Arina, Gregor, Ren, Jura, Twino, Bristara…

Even when my mind said they’d given up on me, my heart refused to believe it. They’re waiting for me. Counting on me.

A wave crushes me. I’m pulled under to a place where only cold, oppressive darkness awaits. There in the swirling waters my nightmares lurk and become reality, threatening to rip the last breath from my lungs.

But no matter how dark the night, I refuse to give up hope of the dawn.

I touch my breast where the final card is waiting. My most popular inking. By now I must have done thousands of this one card. Nine of Cups—the wish card, a chance to make a small alteration to your fate.

Save me.

The Nine of Cups mixes with the last of the power from the Ace. The water parts, and I surface once more with a flash of purple-blue magic. I inhale deeply, catching my breath, and keep kicking. The shore isn’t so far away anymore, and if I keep my head above water, I can make it. It’s so close.

And that’s when I feel the zing of magic from across the waves, hear a hull cutting through the water, and see the grim light fleeing from the creature that it cannot bear. My luck was bound to run out, eventually…

It’s my worst fear proved true. The bastard knew I would escape. I bet he knew he’d kill me from the day of my trial and just let me rot in Halazar because he could. Everything Arina ever said about him was right.

My life is nothing but a game to him is my last thought before a snap of magic strikes me and, with a surge of agony, my muscles seize, a wave overtakes me, and the world goes dark.