Arcana Rising
Page 61
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“You will pick a place on the mountain, and we will have a funeral for her in the morning.”
I sat up to face him. “Bury her here? At your home? But she was awful to you.”
His brows drew together. “At our home. Where my wife’s grandmother belongs.” God, he was a wonderful man to overlook all the things she’d said about him.
Which reminded me . . . “When you went hat in hand to her that night, what did you ask?”
He hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“I sought her for two reasons: to give her my vow that you would be protected for as long as I lived.” Oh, Aric. “And to ask if she sensed this game was . . . different. Because I had.”
“How so?” I quickly asked, “Do you think it can be stopped?” When would I accept reality?
He shook his head. “I believe I sensed this”—he gestured from me to him—“our upcoming union. The marriage of Life and Death.”
The marriage that felt forbidden on every level. “What did Gran say?”
“She said this game was somehow different. But one aspect would always remain the same.” He pulled me back against his chest. “Only one can win.”
39
The Hunter
Closer still . . .
“Climb,” Matthew said, pointing to the top of a rise. “If you want to see her.”
Though we couldn’t be far from Fort Arcana, he’d insisted on stopping here. I figured this peak must be where Evie had radioed me the last time we’d spoken.
Her roses covered the face. And they were still alive.
When we’d first gotten here, I’d said, “She must be close! Is she at the fort?” Over all the time I’d spent with the Fool, no amount of threats or coaxing could make him come off her current whereabouts.
“Some time ago,” he’d answered. “No longer.”
So how had her flowers lived since then? I couldn’t imagine the power she must’ve used creating so many. It was almost as if she’d left part of her ability here as a generator.
I swiped rain from my face. Even in the dusky light, the bright red and green were stark against the ash. “If I get myself up to the top, you’ll finally tell me how to reach her?”
“Gaze out from the peak. Get a new viewpoint.” Then he started fiddling with his bug-out bag, ignoring me.
I wore my brace, was still limping with my crutch, muscles weak. But you better believe I would push my body and my leg to scale this mountain. In a worsening storm.
’Cause I was desperate to get to my girl.
I hooked my crutch under my pack to free up both hands, then set to climbing. Soon sweat mixed with rain, dripping in my eyes. Each time that brace pressed on my wound, pain sang through me, but I white-knuckled my way upward.
When I reached the top, I lurched, nearly tumbling backward. I yanked my crutch free and steadied myself. Then I gazed out with disbelief. Black rock and roses stretched from this peak all the way to the next.
Just when I had clawed my way back to the land of the living, Matthew had sent me to the valley of the dead.
My gut churned, and I almost threw up.
Unable to stop myself, I started out over the lava rock. Felt like I was stepping on graves in a cemetery.
Then came the scent of . . . honeysuckle? I followed the smell, limping farther across the rock toward the middle of the valley.
Vines began to tangle among the roses, but in the distance was a clearing. I hurried toward it, ignoring the pain in my leg. Within the clearing were two grave sites with epitaphs. One was circled with ivy, the other with blooming honeysuckle.
Evie had created these memorials. I read:
Selena Lua
The Moon
Treasured friend, ally, and guardian.
Loyal and strong to the end.
You will be dearly missed.
To the end. Had Evie known Selena sacrificed herself to save my life? Just like Clotile had done a year ago.
Each day after the apocalypse stretched out like a month of life before it. I felt as if Selena had watched my six and fought beside me—for years. Fitting that her memorial was beside . . . mine.
Jackson Daniel Deveaux
The Hunter
Beloved son, brother, friend, leader,
and intended husband.
I love you.
I dropped to my knees.
Evie smelled like honeysuckle whenever she was happy with me. She’d wanted it to bloom on my grave forever.
All my life, I’d figured I would die young, buried in a forgotten paupers’ cemetery somewhere. I never thought I would have been loved like this. She’d made me sound as if I’d made a difference, as if I’d be missed.
I reached for the stone to trace those treasured words. As soon as I made contact, visions appeared in my head.
From Matthew? The Fool was giving them to me, as he often had with Evie! I saw her in the days after Richter’s attack; I heard her thoughts.
In one scene, she was missing an arm, clinging to a tower. Her head whipped up as she lit on the idea of going back in time and saving me. All she had to do was find Tess. Evie’s grief transformed into a frantic determination.
More scenes played out. She stole from survivors and abducted another Arcana. She knew she was turning into a black hat, but she was ruthless to get to Tess.
To save me.
She made it to the empty fort. A shell of what it once was. I thought of all the work that had gone into building it—all the blood, sweat, and dreams I’d poured into that place. And I hadn’t even been able to provide a light to guide Evie’s way inside.
I sat up to face him. “Bury her here? At your home? But she was awful to you.”
His brows drew together. “At our home. Where my wife’s grandmother belongs.” God, he was a wonderful man to overlook all the things she’d said about him.
Which reminded me . . . “When you went hat in hand to her that night, what did you ask?”
He hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“I sought her for two reasons: to give her my vow that you would be protected for as long as I lived.” Oh, Aric. “And to ask if she sensed this game was . . . different. Because I had.”
“How so?” I quickly asked, “Do you think it can be stopped?” When would I accept reality?
He shook his head. “I believe I sensed this”—he gestured from me to him—“our upcoming union. The marriage of Life and Death.”
The marriage that felt forbidden on every level. “What did Gran say?”
“She said this game was somehow different. But one aspect would always remain the same.” He pulled me back against his chest. “Only one can win.”
39
The Hunter
Closer still . . .
“Climb,” Matthew said, pointing to the top of a rise. “If you want to see her.”
Though we couldn’t be far from Fort Arcana, he’d insisted on stopping here. I figured this peak must be where Evie had radioed me the last time we’d spoken.
Her roses covered the face. And they were still alive.
When we’d first gotten here, I’d said, “She must be close! Is she at the fort?” Over all the time I’d spent with the Fool, no amount of threats or coaxing could make him come off her current whereabouts.
“Some time ago,” he’d answered. “No longer.”
So how had her flowers lived since then? I couldn’t imagine the power she must’ve used creating so many. It was almost as if she’d left part of her ability here as a generator.
I swiped rain from my face. Even in the dusky light, the bright red and green were stark against the ash. “If I get myself up to the top, you’ll finally tell me how to reach her?”
“Gaze out from the peak. Get a new viewpoint.” Then he started fiddling with his bug-out bag, ignoring me.
I wore my brace, was still limping with my crutch, muscles weak. But you better believe I would push my body and my leg to scale this mountain. In a worsening storm.
’Cause I was desperate to get to my girl.
I hooked my crutch under my pack to free up both hands, then set to climbing. Soon sweat mixed with rain, dripping in my eyes. Each time that brace pressed on my wound, pain sang through me, but I white-knuckled my way upward.
When I reached the top, I lurched, nearly tumbling backward. I yanked my crutch free and steadied myself. Then I gazed out with disbelief. Black rock and roses stretched from this peak all the way to the next.
Just when I had clawed my way back to the land of the living, Matthew had sent me to the valley of the dead.
My gut churned, and I almost threw up.
Unable to stop myself, I started out over the lava rock. Felt like I was stepping on graves in a cemetery.
Then came the scent of . . . honeysuckle? I followed the smell, limping farther across the rock toward the middle of the valley.
Vines began to tangle among the roses, but in the distance was a clearing. I hurried toward it, ignoring the pain in my leg. Within the clearing were two grave sites with epitaphs. One was circled with ivy, the other with blooming honeysuckle.
Evie had created these memorials. I read:
Selena Lua
The Moon
Treasured friend, ally, and guardian.
Loyal and strong to the end.
You will be dearly missed.
To the end. Had Evie known Selena sacrificed herself to save my life? Just like Clotile had done a year ago.
Each day after the apocalypse stretched out like a month of life before it. I felt as if Selena had watched my six and fought beside me—for years. Fitting that her memorial was beside . . . mine.
Jackson Daniel Deveaux
The Hunter
Beloved son, brother, friend, leader,
and intended husband.
I love you.
I dropped to my knees.
Evie smelled like honeysuckle whenever she was happy with me. She’d wanted it to bloom on my grave forever.
All my life, I’d figured I would die young, buried in a forgotten paupers’ cemetery somewhere. I never thought I would have been loved like this. She’d made me sound as if I’d made a difference, as if I’d be missed.
I reached for the stone to trace those treasured words. As soon as I made contact, visions appeared in my head.
From Matthew? The Fool was giving them to me, as he often had with Evie! I saw her in the days after Richter’s attack; I heard her thoughts.
In one scene, she was missing an arm, clinging to a tower. Her head whipped up as she lit on the idea of going back in time and saving me. All she had to do was find Tess. Evie’s grief transformed into a frantic determination.
More scenes played out. She stole from survivors and abducted another Arcana. She knew she was turning into a black hat, but she was ruthless to get to Tess.
To save me.
She made it to the empty fort. A shell of what it once was. I thought of all the work that had gone into building it—all the blood, sweat, and dreams I’d poured into that place. And I hadn’t even been able to provide a light to guide Evie’s way inside.
