The Arcana Chronicles Book 3 - Page 55

“I’ve already heard the carnates’ staticky calls.”

“Then why did the twins tell me to go to Dolor?”

“A trap,” Jack answered. “The camp’s surrounded by snipers with dart guns, to take us alive.”

For our torture.

“I got no idea where Selena is.”

“Hmm. Luckily, I do.” Aric leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I can follow her call as long as it continues.”

Matthew had once explained that a call never stopped. When an Arcana got close enough to register it, the player could tune it out. “I thought it repeated on a loop. Wait . . . You mean, as long as she lives? You said they wouldn’t kill her outright.”

“There are other instances in which a call could go silent.” Before I could ask, he said, “I estimate she’s about two to three days north of here. I can find her, but that doesn’t mean we can reach her.”

Jack narrowed his gaze. “Why not?”

“The Lovers could be surrounded by a moat of flaming oil. They could have troops of carnates with machine guns and rocket launchers. Even I would have difficulty against rockets.”

“Then what do you suggest, Reaper?”

Aric’s smile was chilling. “A hostage of our own.”

32

DAY 377 A.F.

“It’s showtime,” Jack said.

Dolor was around the next bend. For hours we’d ridden hard to get here, giving me little chance to speak to either him or Aric. We’d followed a rail line, and had just stopped at the outskirts of an old working mine.

Flash-fried machinery—hoists, mine carts, conveyer belts—made for a ghostly junkyard.

Aric removed his helmet. “Where are your rebels?”

Jack shrugged. “In the camp.”

“I’m confused, mortal. I thought we were aligning with dissenters for an incursion. You told us we were taking this camp.”

“Ouais. We are.”

“Then we need men. We need modern weapons to combat the general’s.”

“We’re goan to ride right in.” Jack pulled his jacket collar up when a wet gust howled. “The general and the fake twins will be trussed up for us.”

Aric raised his brows at Jack’s casual a.s.surance. “That’s your plan?” Thanatos hoofed the ground with impatience.

Yes, Jack was becoming an incredible leader, but he was describing a fantasy outcome. I worried my bottom lip. “Say something goes wrong. Maybe we should have a plan B?”

His tone grew cryptic. “That rose crown you wore would look mighty nice when we arrive.”

Aric scoffed, “You think we can intimidate them with our gifts? They’ll be too busy shooting to pay attention.”

Jack ignored him, addressing me, “He’s got no reason to have faith in my plans, but you do. You know I got a good head on my shoulders.”

I’d told him I wouldn’t underestimate him again. If he said he had a plan, and he was this confident . . .

“Call ahead to your people, then,” Aric said. “Ascertain the situation.”

“Non. No radios.”

—He tests even my eternal patience. But I make an effort to keep the peace for you.— “Let’s pretend you achieve a bloodless rebellion, all it takes is one loyal soldier to signal for reinforcements.”

“You think I haven’t considered that, Reaper? It’s under control.”

Aric gazed at me. —You’re buying this?—

I just stopped myself from nodding. I am.

—I find it hard to believe he won’t be double-crossed for that bounty.—

You have no idea how good he is at reading people and taking their measure.

“You two are talking to each other?” Jack scowled.

“Just debating your ability to read people,” Aric said, “since we’re depending on it, and nothing else.”

“You trust me, Evie?” Jack asked, his eyes saying things I couldn’t fathom.

“I trust your judgment in this.”

“I’ll take it.” He cast a smirk at Death.

Aric drew on his helmet. “I can’t believe I’m going along with this folly.”

“You wanted a hostage. I’m taking you to get one.” To me, Jack said, “You ready?”

I nodded, crowning myself with my body vine. Blood-red petals and pointed leaves. I let the circlet move and writhe so no one would think it was fake. Plus, it tended to do that anyway whenever I was nervous.

If there were ever a time to be nervous . . .

Aric caught my gaze as we neared the corner. Another gust blew, sending those conveyor belts flapping, ratcheting up my apprehension.

We pa.s.sed the point of no return, the camp in sight. People were lined up.

Not with guns?

They cheered in welcome! Soldiers—and freed women—waved as if we were an oncoming Mardi Gras float.

I exhaled, hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Holy s.h.i.t, Jack.”

He just slid me a s.e.xy grin.

“A bloodless rebellion.” Death lifted his visor. “I’ll bite. How did you effect this, mortal?”

“Maybe the answer to a problem ain’t always more Death.” When I looked expectantly at Jack, he explained, “Last night, I gave the soldiers canisters of nerve gas to toss into the Milovnícis’ tents.”

“Nerve gas,” I repeated. “Taken from their own army across the river? That’s what was in the duffel bag!”

“Ouais. After Rodrigo’s men secured the Milovnícis, they told as many people as possible that I was coming, with some of my Arcana allies,” he said with a wink at me, a black look at Death. “When everyone found out that we’d liberated the other camp and were gunning for this one, I knew the chain of command would be undermined.”

“This is amazing.”

As we rode into the crowd, people gawked at Death and me, while they clamored to shake Jack’s hand.

All his life, he’d thought he had no reason to be proud. Now he was different. Jaw set. Shoulders squared. Eyes flinty with determination.

He had no otherworldly abilities, but look how powerful he was becoming. Look at all the people who admired him.

I turned toward Aric, glancing at him from under my lashes. My dream of him haunted me, a graphic reminder that he had no one. No hope of a partner.

Did I pity him? Yes. But last night had reminded me that there was far more to my attraction than pity.

He met my gaze, and I quickly looked away. Among the crowd, I spied a grinning black-haired boy of about twelve. With his wide-set eyes and the gap in his front teeth, he looked like a miniature Franklin. Had to be his brother. Soon they’d be reunited.