Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Circe gave a weak laugh. “Of course, you believe we can defeat deities. I’ve often joked about how highly you think of yourself.” Growing serious, she said, “Still, the fact remains that your powers are vast. You are as unfathomable as the Fool is.”
She’d once told me that Mother Earth had powers of birth and rebirth that we couldn’t know. “Unfathomable. That’s exactly how I would describe the red witch in me.”
“We both have our witches, it seems.” Though Circe was a legitimate spellcaster.
I let drop the subject of the game and any curse until she felt better. “I always thought witches got a raw deal. All they wanted was to be left alone to practice their craft.”
She looked pleased with me, her lips curving. “And if it harms none, do as thou wilt.”
I smiled back. “In one game, men tried to burn me at the stake. A wooden stake. Needless to say, it didn’t take.”
Her smile widened. “That anecdote was funnier the first time you told me. Back then . . .” Her expression hardened, the moment of bonding over. “Run along and feed my godson. If I die before I wake, I’ll come back to haunt you in the next game.”
I sighed. “It’s a date. . . .”
Returning to our room, I found Aric holding a sleeping Tee. I gave them both a kiss in greeting. “Circe is very thankful to be here.”
“Hmm. Giving to her means taking resources from this one.”
“We either figure out how to end this game—and Snowmageddon—or we’re doomed anyway.”
I expected him to pull another card from his pocket, a new idea for our survival. Instead, he said, “I don’t disagree.”
Now that I’d given birth, Aric had stopped shielding me from bad news. Sometimes I wished we were back in those buffer Evie days.
He lowered his voice. “Perhaps we don’t need Circe here or anywhere near this place for any reason. She destroyed an entire settlement.”
“Accidentally! And she only lost control because she was trying to save me and Jack.”
“Lost control of her powers? Or her appetites?”
“You think the heat of battle overwhelmed her? You told me she’d garnered a lot of self-restraint over the games.”
In a measured tone, he said, “She has. But the Priestess’s gifts will always be dark among the Arcana. She is an uneasy mix of sea witch and sea monster.”
The monsters will keep coming—invited into our pool house?
With a challenging lift of his brow, Aric added, “You know this. You’ve seen the inside of her temple.”
When I’d spied depictions of tidal waves engulfing ports and monsters devouring ships, I’d asked Circe if she’d controlled the monsters.
I averted my gaze from Aric as I remembered her answer:
Of course not, Empress. I was the monster. The terror from the abyss.
28
The Hunter
The door to the hangar opened with ease. I flicked on the indoor lights, revealing a lair to end all lairs.
As we slipped inside, Sol breathed, “Ay, fíjate. Whoa.”
Joules glared. “Too good to be true.”
For once, I had to agree. Everywhere I looked, the view was better than the last. A kitchen along one wall had gleaming countertops and modern appliances. Across the cavernous space was an indoor basketball court and gym. In the living area, couches beckoned us to sit in front of a big-screen TV, and a jukebox switched on automatically to play a golden oldie.
We headed into a hallway that led to bunkrooms, a communal bathroom, an office, a massive library, and an oversize stockroom.
Kentarch’s gaze roamed over the food stores. “This would keep us for years.”
“Years,” I echoed in amazement, almost licking my lips at all the boxes and the full freezers.
We secured each room, then returned to the office. Inside were a computer, filing cabinets, and a ham-radio station. A plaque above the station read:
Salute to all those who build and fortify.
To all those who learn and lead.
To all those who right the wrongs.
You shall know your place among the Swords.
A sense of recognition hit me. A sense of pride. . . .
Pictures lined the walls. I closed in on the largest one, a captioned photo of thirteen adults, each holding a different weapon—a sword, nunchuks, an automatic rifle, even a rocket launcher.
The suit of Swords.
One woman, fourth from the right, caught my eye. Dressed in a Navy Seal uniform, she had a thick braid, muscles, a cocky smile, and a resemblance to the plague-ridden woman in the Pentacles’ cell.
The caption listed her as the K.O.S., the Knight of Swords.
So she’d been legit, the actual Knight of Swords. And apparently, she’d been a badass.
I beckoned Joules over. “Meet Kos.” I gave him a how you like me now? look.
Still, I shouldn’t celebrate yet. In the Arcana game, a find like this hangar usually spelled trouble.
“We’re not in the clear, Cajun. There’s more to secure.”
Only one door was left at the end of the hall, but he was right. “Let’s go.”