Page 77

The Three of Swords Trials are a little more than twenty days away. Since next week will be the recess right before the trials, all the initiates are frantically cramming in as much preparation and study as possible. The nervous energy rattling the air has even found its way under my skin.

I wander the aisles of the library, searching for books on tarot iconography.

The reading test is what I’m most worried about.

I’ve managed to coax my inking and wielding style to fit the strict guidelines of the academy, but reading was always my weakest area.

My hunt has taken me to one of the farthest back corners, where three shelving units come together to form a dead end.

It’s so secluded that even the lamplight is dimmer here.

Military records…History… Nothing particularly useful.

I run my fingers along the shelves, skimming the titles just in case there’s something on older reading practices.

Perhaps tarot spreads I hadn’t considered.

Given how particular Professor Rothou is about reading, I’ve no doubt she’d place a lot of value in “how it was done ages ago.”

My fingers brush over a set of letters carved into the side of one of the bookshelves. N+E. I can’t stop a slight smile. I wonder if these lovers were from an earlier year of the academy, or if they haunted this secluded section for a moment alone ages ago.

“Clara?” Sorza stops me from formulating a whole love story in my head about two people who are probably long gone.

“Over here,” I call.

She rounds one of the shelves, crossing quickly. Three books are heavy in her hands.

“Oh, good, you’re alone. Luren and Dristin are holding the table. I offered to get what they needed so I could catch you alone since someone isn’t coming around the sanctum very often these days.” She slides up next to me, her voice falling to a hush.

“I’m focused on the Three of Swords Trials, as you should be, too.”

“Yeah, so you say. But you know what you were also very focused on? Inking your card. And you know what I haven’t seen you nearly as focused on lately?” She pauses.

The silence extends until I sigh. “What?”

“Inking your card. So I can only think that you figured out how to do it.” She looks at me like Priss might a piece of fish on my plate.

How can I lie to that face? “Yes, I figured it out.”

Sorza snatches both of my hands with a squeal. “Well done, you! Have you tried wielding it?”

“No.” I’m not counting when Eza attacked me. That was hardly a controlled experiment.

“I haven’t tried mine, either. Prince Kaelis said that we shouldn’t explore them too deeply yet.” Did he now? This is the first time I’m hearing either of them mention the other. “But I was thinking, maybe you and me sometime, we could…”

“Absolutely.” I follow her logic with a slight grin.

“Excellent! After the Three of Swords Trials, maybe? Oh, has Prince Kaelis taken you to the—”

“Well, isn’t this a lovely picture?”

Sorza pulls away, and we both look to the source of the voice. Cael, the Emperor and one of Eza’s favorites, leans against the bookcase at the end of the row. His strip of hair down the center of his head has been teased and fixed upright today, instead of being its usual half-hearted mess.

“Cael, I’m surprised to see you here,” Sorza says, collecting her books.

“And why is that?” He bites out the words.

“Because I didn’t think you could read,” she quips easily. He glowers. I fight a laugh.

“Go, Sorza. I’m not here for you,” he commands gruffly.

“Oh? Here to keep doing Eza’s dirty work for no good reason?” she snaps back. “Isn’t it embarrassing as a second year to be ordered around by a first-year initiate?”

Cael closes the gap between them. He’s an imposing force, with his sharp jaw and piercing violet eyes. His clothes are perpetually grungy, as if he doesn’t want anyone to forget that he’s one of the common-born students. It almost seems to invite a challenge.

“I’ve business with her.” Cael nods in my direction.

“Then you have business with me, too.” Sorza doesn’t move.

Cael’s eyes dart to me.

I shrug. “I’m not her keeper. She can do what she wants.”

“Unlike how Eza treats you,” Sorza adds.

“Just wait.” Cael looms over Sorza. But she doesn’t even flinch.

“When you get your clan assignment next year, see how long you last before you realize you need to start making the right friends, and practicing the right skills. Not all of us have the luxury of a prince guarding them. And, given what I hear Justice is able to do, I suspect you’ll be headed right to the royal court with me. ”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Sorza says bravely.

“You should be.” There’s a glint of something damaged in Cael’s eyes, like a door that’s been ripped off its hinges. He’s seen things he wishes he hadn’t. Done things he probably wishes he hadn’t.

“What do you want, Cael?” I try to refocus on the moment at hand. I’ve always been leery of Cael because of his proximity to Eza. But this is the first time that I’ve seen him as a danger in his own right. Something’s hanging by a thread inside him, and I don’t want to see it snap.

“There’s something you should know about Eza.”

“Eza’s good little errand boy.” Sorza just doesn’t know when to quit, and part of me greatly appreciates her for it. The other part of me is pretty sure it’s going to get her killed sooner rather than later.

Luckily, for now Cael ignores her. “Eza has asked Thornbrow to be your opponent in the wielding test, and Thornbrow agreed.”

“Oh, lovely, even more to look forward to. Can’t wait.” I step to the side and go to move past him. “Now, if that’s all…”

In a flash, Cael grabs my arm and pushes me against a bookcase. I have a card spinning midair by my hip in an instant. Sorza sets her books down so quickly that I’m amazed all the pages are still attached. Her own card is at the ready.

“You don’t want to do this.” I lock eyes with Cael, ensuring he knows that I’m not threatening him—I’m promising him what’s about to come next if he keeps this up. “I’m not the half-starved, skin-and-bones woman you jumped months ago.”

“You don’t get it. They don’t care what happens to initiates who don’t pass. The wielding trial is the last one. And you’ll be encouraged not to hold back.”

“Good. I want Eza to come at me with all he’s got…so I can beat him. Again. ” Tension hangs in the air, thinning it.

Just when I think Cael has had enough, he leans forward, breath warm and frustratingly sweet smelling. It’s almost like he’s trying and failing to be unappealing.

“He knows all of your weaknesses.”

“And I know all of his.” My confidence startles him. Cael’s grip loosens some. “As you said, I’ve the prince—and luck—on my side. What do you and Eza have?”

“Fail inking,” he whispers, so soft that I barely hear it. Sorza is oblivious. Before I can react, he releases me with a slight noise of disgust. “Fine. Be ready; if you go into the arena with Eza, he’s not going to fight fair. The king already has your card, it’s not like he needs you anymore.”

He strides away. My card returns to the holster on my thigh. Sorza gathers her books after returning her own cards. “What an ass. Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just trying to scare you.”

I’d have to agree. Fail inking? Was that his way of trying to convince me to throw one of the other trials so if Eza beats me I’m out?

Yet, something about that interaction felt genuine…like he really was trying to warn me of something. But why would Cael, out of all people, try to help me?

Tonight is the first night I’m ready to return to the Fool’s workshop.

There’s only so much I can do with the supplies we have in my or Kaelis’s study.

Kaelis is insistent that the only way we’re making any kind of convincing forgery of a Major Arcana card is with the supplies from the Fool himself.

And, I must admit, I’m curious about what these legendary items can do.

This time, knowing what’s about to come, I pay even closer attention to Kaelis’s actions. I count the steps between the openings in the walls of fire. I keep control of my thoughts in the water room.

But I can’t stop a shuddering inhale when I see the final room…and not for the reason I’d been expecting.

“They’re gone,” I breathe. Every last bone has been removed from the soft earth. My attention spins to Kaelis.

“You were right, they deserved a proper burial.” Kaelis shrugs. “Whatever paltry sentiments these hands could offer them was their final send-off.”

“You…” I can’t find the right words. “You did this?”

“No one else comes down here.” The words sit uncomfortably on his tongue.

I look to Kaelis, and he holds my gaze for a long minute. I can imagine the prince coming down here, alone, during all the days I was avoiding him. Collecting the bones one by one, painstakingly slowly to avoid the Duskrose opening.

“I’m not a monster,” he says softly. “Even if I must act like one sometimes.”

“I know,” I reply, just as soft.

“We should carry on, there’s work to be done.” Kaelis moves before I can say anything else, ready to abandon his discomfort and the topic entirely.

I don’t press.

Past the final room, we now traverse deeper than I ever have before.

The hall descends to a final antechamber with one last door.

Kaelis reaches into his pocket with his right hand, pulling out a card.

I don’t see what it is before he rests it against my forearm.

My fingers grip his left hand gently and he stretches out my arm.

“There’s a trick to get through this final door—a barrier that will only open for individuals with certain magics.” His eyes flick up to mine. “May I?”

“May you what?” I ask uncertainly, the card resting on my forearm, acting as the thinnest barrier between our skin.

“I’d like to give you a marking that shows you are friendly to the Fool—that will allow you to pass through his barriers.”

“How do you know how to do this?” I ask uneasily.