The Arcana Chronicles 3: Dead of Winter

“Selena was taken! Two soldiers did it. I walked in on one of them giving her an injection. His partner sneaked up behind me and shot me up. I just came to.”

Gabriel’s wings snapped open. “How did they get her out of the fort?”

“You tell me,” Finn said, baffled.

“We suspected we had traitors planted in this camp.” Jack bit out a vile curse in French. “How long ago was this?”

“Five or six hours?” Finn turned to me. “Right when I was going under, one of them was bitching about the wolf guarding you. I think you were also a target.”

“Whose target?” Jack said.

I feared I knew. “It might be General Milovníci. The Lovers told us they wanted to take me and Selena north to someone they called ‘the First.’ Maybe they meant their father?” The thought nauseated me as much as it had last night.

“I can catch them by air,” Gabriel said, “before they reach the other half of the army.”

Jack shook his head. “They’ll be spotlighting the skies for you. They’ve got truck-mounted rifles that can cut you in two.”

Gabriel turned on Matthew. “You had to have seen this, Fool!”

Finn raised his crutch to defend Matthew, but Jack blocked the archangel. “Just back off, Gabe! We’re goan to get Selena back.”

Right at that moment, a staticky call sounded in my head. —We will love you. In our own way.—

Every Arcana stilled in shock.

“W-wasn’t that the Lovers’ call?” Tess adjusted her baseball cap, her still-thin body trembling.

“That can’t be,” I muttered, though I’d heard it.

“Are you sure you guys ganked them?” Finn glanced from one of us to the next. “Yeah? Then I guess their Arcana power is resur-freaking-rection.”

Matthew gave a low cry. “They’re calling.” He stiffened and his voice changed, seeming to vibrate as he vocalized a message: “Empress, we’d planned to make you a prisoner of our love, but it didn’t work out. Luckily we’ll have Selena to keep us company. Will you let her suffer for you, for the crimes you committed?”

“What crimes?” Joules asked, but everyone shushed him.

Matthew continued: “If you’re truly as different as you say, you’ll come for your ally. We’ll release her in exchange for you—and the hunter. We camp outside the Dolor Salt Mines; be here within four days. No Arcana can travel with you. If we sense another’s call—like the archangel’s—we’ll give Selena to our army. It’s your choice, a test of your ‘alliance.’ When to enter, when not to honor . . . Four days, Empress. We will love you ever so much.”

Matthew slumped, the message delivered.

“Vincent and Violet are alive? They have her!” Gabriel started for the exit.

I headed him off. “Just wait! You can’t jeopardize her. We’ll plan another rescue. Maybe Matthew can block our calls.” I turned to him—sucked in a gasp at the blood pouring from his nose. “Sweetheart, what is this?” I reached for him.

Jack was right beside me. “Coo-yôn?”

Matthew rocked forward and back, blood soaking his shirt. “Beware the lures . . . strike first . . . or be first struck.”

I yanked a bandanna from my pocket and held it against his nose. His eyes pleaded; for me to do what? Why couldn’t I figure out how to help him? When Matthew’s blood saturated the material, I didn’t think, just cried, “Aric!”

“Why you call for him?” Jack sounded like he was about to do murder. “I’m the one who’s been looking out for coo-yôn for three months. Me.”

I sat beside Matthew. “Aric knows things. Arcana things.”

An instant later, Death silently entered.

Joules went bug-eyed, producing a javelin. Gabriel’s wings flared anew. Tess floated to the back of the tent.

Finn’s recent illusions glimmered over him. “Wh-what the hell, people?” He’d been unconscious, didn’t know Aric was here. Up went the Magician’s crutch again.

“Death is in the trues,” I said.

Jack’s jaw clenched until I thought he’d grind his molars to dust. “You like to go where you’re not welcome, Reaper.”

“Often.” Aric’s pale blond hair shone in the firelight, his breathtaking face highlighted.

“This is actually happenin’,” Joules sputtered. “We’re in a tent with this rotten, bloody bastard.” Speaking to everyone else, he said, “You realize he’s killed us all at some point in past games.”

Death’s lips curled. “Some of you more than once.”

Like me.

“Bugger this, I canna be in here.” Joules cast Aric a look of scalding animosity. “That demon killed my lass, my Calanthe.”

Death’s amber eyes narrowed. “Your alliance attacked mine.”

Gabriel reached for Joules’s shoulder, saying under his breath, “Stay. Know thy enemy.” He jerked his hand away when the Tower’s skin sparked.

“Feckin’ Reaper.” But Joules did remain, directing his fury toward Jack. “You should have plugged his skull when you had a chance!”

“You think I doan regret that?”

I gazed up at Aric. “Do you know what’s happening to Matthew?”

“In past games, the Fool occasionally did this—when someone was about to die. Someone he’d much rather not.”

All eyes turned to me. Was I on the chopping block? Or Selena?

“Plus, he must be overloaded,” Aric said. “I’ve seen this before midgame. His mind is simply full.”

“What does that mean?” I smoothed Matthew’s hair from his damp forehead.

“It’s unusual for so many Arcana to converge for extended periods. Our calls would blare like constant megaphones in his head.”

The Arcana switchboard.

“Not to mention that he’s been seeing all of our futures, deciphering and acting on constantly updating information.”

Matthew had tried to tell me he needed a respite. He’d known his mind would be hurt like this?

“Mad and struck.” Saliva dripped from his mouth. “System the game. Eddy. Eddy. Now I go over the edge, the dog at my heels.”

Jack clasped his shoulder, holding him steady. “Coo-yôn, you got to rest now. Prend-lé aisé. Comprends?” Take it easy. Understood? “And press this against your nose,” he added, handing Matthew another bandanna.