When her breathing slowed to a more normal rate, Darius drew her off her stool. “Let’s find a quiet room for you, shall we?”
She nodded shakily.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gray eyes somber. “Tori, will you please tidy up her cards? You can leave them in Clara’s office.”
“R-right.” I watched numbly as he led her away, but before they got more than a few steps, I launched off my stool. “Wait!”
They paused. I stumbled over and grabbed Sabrina’s hand. “That future you just—the things I saw on the—Sabrina, can I change it like last time? Will my choice change it?”
Holding Darius’s arm for balance, she closed her eyes again. “No,” she whispered. “The Wheel is turning. It’s his choice now, and you can’t change it.”
“But—” My panic sharpened. “Sabrina, that can’t—”
“Draw the last card, Tori. You’ll see.”
Darius guided her away. I stood there, hands trembling as I watched them cross the room and start up the stairs. The pub bustled with activity as teams prepared for the coming confrontation with the Court of the Red Queen, grimly cheerful in their determination to protect their city.
I rushed back to the bar. The five cards in the cross spread had returned to their original states, no more than mundane bits of cardboard and ink again. I stretched my hand toward the deck, waiting in two piles.
My fingers hovered over the next card. Steeling my heart, I plucked it off and tossed it down. A familiar illustration filled the card’s face, a single word inscribed beneath it.
Death.
Chapter Three
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until—”
“It’s fine, Aaron. We’ll be fine.” I plucked the keys from his hand. “Quit worrying.”
Standing beside the open driver’s door of his SUV, the pyromage frowned at me and Ezra, then sighed. “Okay, fine. But be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” Ezra said in that somber tone that gave no clue as to whether he was teasing or not.
Aaron’s frown deepened. He squinted between us, then turned on his heel and stalked toward the guild’s front door to join the other officers for an early morning meeting.
Meanwhile, Ezra and I would complete the job Robin had given me.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled the SUV into the Capilano View Cemetery parking lot. When we’d shown up two weeks ago in search of the cult’s lair, it’d been a ghost town—no pun intended. Today, however, a dozen cars waited for their drivers to return.
I parked at the farthest end and climbed out. The early February wind nipped at my cheeks as I checked that my combat belt was hidden under the hem of my jacket. Though I’d returned Justin’s gun last week, I wasn’t lacking in weapons.
Not only was my belt reloaded with alchemy bombs and a new paintball gun, borrowed from Lyndon, but I finally had an artifact back—after Friday night’s meeting, Lim had delivered my brass knuckles, a force-amplifying spell imbued into the metal. Weldon, being significantly less reliable than the Arcana scholar, had yet to produce a replacement fall spell for me.
Ezra, unfortunately, had no weapon to carry—though considering his dual magics, he probably didn’t need one.
I linked our arms as we walked onto one of the many paths that led through small fields of flat gravestones. A middle-aged couple meandered past us, their faces heavy with grief. Farther out, a family was gathered around another marker. An old man sat alone on a bench, a bouquet of white daisies in his hand and his weathered features holding a thousand memories as he gazed toward the distant trees.
I slid my hand down Ezra’s arm and entwined our fingers. I’d never lost a loved one to death. There were no graves in the world that meant anything to me, but at just sixteen years old, Ezra had lost everyone he’d ever known.
“What happened to their bodies?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Ezra glanced at me. “Whose bodies?”
“Your … your parents. Do you know?”
“Unclaimed bodies are buried on private land managed by the MPD. I don’t know where … in Oregon, probably.”
“When this is over, would you like to find out where they are?”
He considered my question as we roamed down the path, heading toward the forest at the northern end of the cemetery. “Maybe someday.”
My fingers tightened around his. Against my will, the Death card slid into my mind’s eye, followed by the Hanged Man, his face blank and peaceful in death. Sacrifice.
It’s his choice now.
“Ezra …” Words failed me.
“What is it?”
We stopped at the edge of the forest. The cemetery’s other visitors were distant figures, and the rustle of branches in the cold wind was the only sound.
Searching his eyes, I opened my mouth—but again, I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say. How could I demand he make no sacrifices? I might as well ask him to stop breathing. If his friends were in danger, he’d do anything to protect them.
He brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth as though to rub away my frown. “What’s wrong, Tori?”
“I … I just …” I sucked in a breath. “It’s nothing. But I do have a question.”
“What question?”
I headed up the path, searching for the spot where we’d hacked our way into the underbrush. “Did you know all that stuff Robin explained about demons powering up with heat?”
“I knew everything always goes cold when I tap Eterran’s power, but I didn’t know why.” He shook his head in exasperation. “If I’d realized demons could turn fire into magic, I would’ve mentioned it a long time ago.”
“Nice of Eterran to fill you in.”
“He’s never been free with his knowledge.”
No kidding. Dick move, Eterran.
Ezra arched an eyebrow. “Now tell me what’s really wrong, Tori.”
Crap. I should’ve known I couldn’t derail him that easily.
Luckily, we’d just located our two-week-old trail into the forest, and I pushed through the branches. Crunching steps and snapping twigs confirmed Ezra was right behind me,
