The Arcana Chronicles 5: The Dark Calling

Was the plank in our future?

In French, I muttered to Jack, "What are we going to do?" For weeks, I'd had a bad feeling about Lorraine. Yet after using my powers last night, I could barely manage to sharpen my claws.

He answered in the same, "Kentarch and Joules will be back soon. They'll find us gone and come after us. Just hang on."

News of my vines must've spread; as the guards had escorted us across the settlement, people had begun to gather outside the yacht, whispering and pointing at me. I'd heard the word witch a few times.

On board, we passed one stateroom after another, trudging across plush carpet toward the bow. Soft floor lighting guided the way, and warm air blew from the vents. I made out the faint hum of generators. Must be nice.

Cleanliness and order marked every inch, which made me doubt my suspicions about the Ciborium. How could villains have a lair like this?

I was used to subterranean dens--not rock-star megayachts. I'd descended into the Hermit's laboratory, the Hierophant's pantry, and the Lovers' shrine. Again and again, I'd emerged to the surface and lived. Like a plant.

Would we survive this next trial?

We passed the exit that led to the plank. The two spotlighted masts cast shadows inside. I held my breath as they wavered over us.

The guards forced us into an opulent ballroom, our steps loud. Chandeliers hung from exposed rafters, shimmering light across the empty space. A grand staircase curved from a balcony to the gleaming dance floor.

Atop a dais, Lorraine sat on that seashell-covered throne, more of her guards flanking her. Imperious in another silver dress, she'd braided her long brunette hair over one shoulder. Up this close, I saw her irises were so light a brown, they looked yellowish.

"Welcome to our court, my dear ones," she greeted us in her soft, singsong voice. An ornate gold chalice sat on one throne arm. On the other arm lay a jewel-encrusted blade.

Jack demanded, "What do you want with us?"

Ignoring him, she turned to me. "We had a little time before we send up our next flare to the faithful awaiting on the coast, and I wanted to meet the Empress in person."

I jolted at her casual mention of my title. "How did you know?"

With a dreamy expression, she said, "How could I not? I'm an Arcana."

I shared a shocked look with Jack as comprehension sunk in. Lorraine. La Reine. The queen. My gaze flitted to the chalice beside her. "You're the Queen of Cups." One of the two Minor Arcana my grandmother had specifically warned me about.

Why hadn't I put this together before? This ship's name--the Calices--was French for Chalices.

There were thirteen guards with armbands. Lorraine would make fourteen. "The entire suit of Cups is here."

"Correct, Empress."

Circe had said she'd found a suit on the coast. Bingo.

I'd learned that Major Arcana rarely encountered the Minors, but when we did . . . not good news. My grandmother's words: They can be as dangerous as Major Arcana. Especially the court cards.

Matthew had told me they watched us, plotting against us. Had that been what I'd sensed out on the road?

So what would Lorraine do now? "How did you recognize me?"

"Not easily. You look nothing like the Empress of old."

For now. "Why have you forced us here? You can't harm a Major Arcana."

She smiled sweetly, but her face resembled a mask. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see the cracks in the surface, the danger lurking beneath--like that trench on a calm day. Give it time. "I wouldn't dream of it. Though I do feel I should remind you that you can't aggress against us either. Else risk punishment."

"That depends on whether you'll let us go."

"Oh, we can't harm you--but your handsome companion doesn't warrant such consideration." Two of the guards seized Jack's arms. "A shame, since the Cajun is my ace salvager."

As he struggled against them, I said, "You do not want to hurt him." I had steel in my tone--as if I were still the great and powerful Empress. In reality, I needed help. Would Kentarch and Joules come for us?

"Relax, Empress. If you cooperate, the Cajun will emerge from this ship unscathed. You both will."

At that, Jack stopped resisting.

Wary, I asked her, "Where's the King of Cups? Shouldn't a Major Arcana like myself be negotiating with the man in charge?"

She gave a negligent flick of her hand in one guard's direction. "That's him." An older man with salt-and-pepper hair bowed to her. "But we're the Queendom. It works best that way."

Damn. I hate that I like that. "Where have the Minors been?"

"We watch. We endure. We prepare for the future. One day this game will end, and we'll be ready."

"Do you have powers like the Majors?"

"We all have sharply honed instincts. We knew how to survive the Flash and avoid the plague-stricken. And each suit has a specific talent."

"What's yours?" I asked, casting my mind back to some of Gran's mad ramblings. Hadn't she made a strange comment about the Cups and . . . blood?

Lorraine ran her finger over the rim of the chalice. "Soon I will demonstrate it for you."

That sounded ominous.

Jack gave me a subtle nod. Telling me to keep stalling?

Though we hadn't slept and I was still thrown from the events of the night, I would try. "Where are the other suits? Why are you not all living in one settlement?"

"We've been at odds. A little-known secret is that we each favor a Major to win, helping him or her behind the scenes."

"All of you need to band together to support one champion--who can go up against Richter. Otherwise, he's going to usher in hell on earth. I've witnessed his powers in person."

"We've seen them as well. Sometimes an Arcana really is his card. He's as immovable as rock. His wrath is as fiery as lava and just as destructive. But then, Major Arcana are born evil."

Many I'd met were. "I'm not evil." Not yet. In this game, I'd done vicious things for pure reasons: protecting my friends and loved ones or preserving my own life against deadly adversaries. I'd never harmed the innocent. At least, not maliciously.

I'd kept the red witch on a tight leash.

The Cups laughed at my statement. Lorraine looked delighted with me, as if I were a precocious child who'd just made a funny. "Are you saying the gods selected you all those eons ago because you were good-hearted? No, they each chose a predator to empower and sponsor."

Doubts flooded in, but then I recalled sweet Tess, who'd destroyed herself trying to undo Richter's carnage. Even Gabriel had dearly wished for the game to end. And Finn? He'd never wanted to hurt a fly.

"As for your concern," Lorraine said, "the Minors are banding together. We've been in contact with the Kingdom of Pentacles. They control the Sick House."

"The ones with that smarmy radio message."

"That successful message. Their settlement is even larger than Jubilee. They were most interested to know we've been housing three Majors, but not surprised." So the Cups were aware of Kentarch and Joules too. "We've begun talks with the Pentacles to unite, in order to move things along more quickly. We Minors are stewards of the earth. The earth won't return until the game is finished, until all the Major Arcana but one are gone."

"I take it by your attitude that I'm not your dark horse this time around."

"Some believe you'll be needed to reseed the earth." She rolled her eyes. "We can find seeds. Once the sun returns, we can grow whatever you could. In any case, we're associated with water. We favor the Priestess to win. That's what our hearts and dreams tell us to do."

"Yet you've never made her any sacrifices?"

"We make weekly plank offerings." She flashed me a new mask--self-satisfied Lorraine.

"So those men were telling the truth when they screamed their innocence?" All the way down . . .

"Of course." She shared a chuckle with her guards. "As I said, there's no need to steal here. We have a bounty. We even have plenty of offerings

."

Jack bit out, "You routinely murdered innocent men?" He looked sorry for doubting me.

"Not innocent. They were agitators who spoke out and threatened our harmony."

The Cups were serial killers. I'd known something wasn't right about them. "I talked to my good friend Circe about this very subject, and she complained that the settlers on the coast weren't making 'proper sacrifices.' Whatever you're doing, you're doing it wrong. It's not a sacrifice if you don't feel it. Maybe try dumping the King of Cups next time."

A flicker of doubt crossed Lorraine's mask as she gazed at the older man. He pulled at his collar.

Attention back on me, she said, "Your good friend Circe, is it? And yet you keep betraying her in every game."

Really sick of those reminders. "How do you know that?" Trying to sound cool, I said, "You must have chronicles." Want them.

"With our talents, we have no need of them."

Fatigue weighed on me, irritation growing. "What are these talents? You said you'd demonstrate for me."

"What do you want most in the world?" she asked. "I can tell you how to attain it."