Page 55

“No.” Kaelis looks up at me from behind his desk. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but he’s doing a very good job of making himself look important while doing it.

Meanwhile, I have taken up residence on the settee.

I’ve put an upside-down tray on two stacks of books as a makeshift table where I work on sketching out my Major.

The memory of the symbol I inked when I fought with Eza is in my blood now—literally and figuratively.

But it’s all so…rudimentary. There are no flourishes.

Nothing that would truly suit a card of its nature.

Hence why my ink has yet to dry silver. I can feel the card demanding more from me to fully master its magic, and I am determined to rise to the occasion.

Priss is curled up next to me, a bit offended that I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs to the point that my lap is not a viable sleeping option. I scratch her chin on occasion with my free hand to try to mitigate her fuzzy wrath.

“It makes the most sense, and you know it.” The plan I’ve suggested is a good one.

Kaelis sighs in a way that tells me he knows it, too.

“You said your father never shows anyone the cards. But you’re also certain he’s never without them.

The only way he might give us a clue as to where he keeps them on his person is if we give him a new card.

With any luck, I’ll get a glimpse of the rest of them when he stores it.

” If King Oricalis is that paranoid about the cards he has, then he’ll want to store a new one right away. I hope.

“And what if you don’t? He ends up with another golden card.” Kaelis rests his temple on his fingertips and stares at me in a manner that could make paint peel. “That’s the opposite of what we want.”

“I’m stealing them at the Feast of Cups anyway, aren’t I?” I shrug and lean back into the cushions. Priss wastes no time seizing the opening in my lap. “What’s one more card to forge and take at that time?”

Kaelis points his quill at his four-legged companion as I give her a good scratching around her entire face. “Opportunist. Traitor.”

“Don’t be bitter just because she likes my chin scratches better.

Don’t you, Priss?” I give a few extra for emphasis.

Then I turn back to Kaelis, briefly catching a smile directed at the feline, before the tone shifts to serious once more.

“If there’s one card I’ll be able to make a convincing fake of, it’s my own.

” I’d give him a fake to begin with, but I’ve been so focused on making my own card that I haven’t even started trying to figure out how to make fakes of the other legendary Major tarot.

“And if I fail to steal them for you at the Feast of Cups, it doesn’t matter if your father has one card or five cards. ”

Kaelis rubs a palm over his face, suppressing a groan. His hair is even more of a mess than usual as he rakes his fingers through it. The same fingers that now twitch as he pulls them away from his mouth before he can bite on them—a habit I’ve just noticed over the past few weeks.

“It’s the best opportunity for me to see the cards that doesn’t involve us concocting a reason for me to be around your father again after All Coins Day.”

“I know.” He sighs and hits the desk lightly with the side of his fist. “I do…But my father will kill to keep those cards a secret.” Kaelis’s attention darts to me with a look that could cut diamonds.

“You trust these people?” He’s referring to the members of the club.

I’ve mentioned bringing them in for the job.

The last time I worked on my own, it got me caught. I’m not making the same mistake twice.

“With my life and then some. Besides, they managed to thwart your brother once by surviving and escaping his attack on the Starcrossed Club—something not even I managed.” I had to tell Kaelis that I had found a way out of the school to more easily plan with the club.

But he hasn’t asked for too many details.

The headmaster seems pleased to remain willfully ignorant when it comes to when and how I’m breaking his rules.

Which is good, because if he did ask, I’d outright lie to protect Silas.

“And they have the skills to get these cards if my father doesn’t show them to you?” Kaelis slowly stands.

“I think so. It’s not the first dangerous thing they’ve done.” I focus on Priss for a moment to avoid the overwhelming guilt that follows. I know the danger I want to put them in. And I still need to get Bristara to agree to it.

“This will be the most dangerous thing they’ve ever done.” Kaelis crosses to me.

“I know,” I say, softer.

He stops in front of the makeshift table. Wordlessly, he reaches for the paper I was sketching on. His eyes dart to mine, almost like he’s asking for permission to look at it. I don’t move, other than continuing to lavish affection on Priss. He lifts the paper and studies it.

“Beautiful.” The feeling behind the word is deep.

Never have I seen anyone admire anything I’ve created the way Kaelis does. It is as if the secrets of the world are wrapped in my rough lines and hasty inking. As though he is entranced wholly and completely.

I wish someone would look at me that way.

The rogue thought has me ducking my chin to look at Priss rather than Kaelis.

It’s been so long, too long, since anything like that has materialized for me.

I’ve been busy focusing on keeping myself and Arina alive, then proving myself to Bristara.

Liam was a fluke, an error that should have never happened.

It’s been too dangerous to entangle myself with anyone outside of the club, and I decided early I wouldn’t sleep with the people I worked with. Which now includes Kaelis…

“All right.” Kaelis sets the paper down with another heavy sigh. He turns to the window opposite his desk. “We’ll go with your plan.”

“You’re sure?” If he’s not fully on board, I don’t want to move forward. That’s a recipe for sabotage.

“No.” His hands ball into fists at the small of his back as he stands a little taller, as if every muscle in his body is tensing.

“I loathe the idea of my father having another card— your card.” The way he says it—shifting his feet to half face me, his stare—suggests that the latter might be even more unpalatable to him than the former.

“But you’re right, it is the best approach.

The best we have. And…I have faith in you.

And because you trust them, I will have faith in your friends, too. ”

The last admission makes me completely still. The warmth from him is so strange that I’m instantly on guard. In the absence of any other response, arrogance becomes my defense. “I agree. My plans usually don’t fail.”

“Here’s hoping we have your luck, rather than mine.

” The sun is setting behind him, outlining him in gold.

For once, he looks touchable. Warm. Human.

“The main hall is far, and our time is short. How about dinner here, with me? You can continue working. The dining table in my apartments would be a better space anyway; you’d have more room. ”

“Sure.” The word slips from my lips before I can think about it too much.

This morning, instead of the wielding classroom, Professor Thornbrow has taken us to one of the academy’s rooftops.

It’s one of the largest towers and so has ample space for us all to spread out and practice.

Given how close we are now to All Coins Day, these rehearsals for the tests we’re going to face feel so much more real.

Allegedly, this rooftop is where we will be dueling in the Three of Swords Trials, too, which seems to have put everyone a bit more on edge.

Luren stands opposite me. We square off. She shuffles her deck for the seventh time.

“You can’t be afraid of your own cards,” I say under my breath, glancing toward Vaduin. The professor is on the opposite side of the circular rooftop. “You made them, with your own magic.”

“My inking isn’t the best, what if—”

“What if it goes off perfectly and you’re the best wielder to ever step foot in the academy?” I arch my brows and give her a pointed look.

“You know that’s not the case.” Luren sighs. “If anyone is, it’s you.”

“Four of Cups, Luren.” I harden my tone and my stare. From the corner of my eye, I see Vaduin begin rounding back toward us. He’s been relentless today, demanding that everyone practice with Threes and Fours only.

“I don’t want to—”

“Now,” I interrupt. Then add, gentler, “Please.” For your sake. Vaduin pushing her will be a lot worse than me doing it.

With trembling fingers, she draws the Four of Cups from her deck. I refrain from scolding her for not summoning it with magic. Getting her to just draw the card is progress. She returns the deck to the oversized pocket of her knitted coat and holds out the card.

Luren closes her eyes, and the card quivers like a leaf in the autumn breeze that now cools the backs of our necks.

I feel the moment her magic surges. But it’s too much, too wild and uncontrolled.

The ink on the card shifts, as if alive—sentient.

Frost coats it and then hisses into the air.

As the ice disappears from the card’s surface, a new image appears.

It’s similar to the old image but subtly changed: What was once right side up is now upside down.

The card has reversed.

“Luren!” Her name is nothing more than a gasp. I dash forward, casting an Ace of Swords. It’s probably futile. An Ace couldn’t stand up to this magic. But I try anyway, even though I already know it’s too late.