Arcana Rising Page 66


She’d told me an Empress could fashion wood into whatever shapes she liked; in my pocket was a wedding ring for Aric that I’d painstakingly crafted.

I’d figured the band would need to be as resilient as metal, so I’d chosen one of the strongest trees in the world: lignum vitae. Latin for wood of life.

Aric would like that detail.

After secretly measuring his ring finger—I’d used a tiny vine as he slept—I’d created prototype rings, honing my ability.

Once I was satisfied with the band, I’d reinforced it with everything in me, making the wood as strong as steel. I’d darkened the grain and smoothed it, until the band was gleaming black.

I might not be wielding the earthshaking plant powers I’d had in the past, but I could make a mean wedding ring.

It would be as enduring as he was.

But for some reason, I kept hesitating to give it to him.

Because of Jack? I didn’t know. I tried not to think about my first love at all, figuring I could keep the tourniquet on a little longer. That noose around my heart might be limiting what I felt for Aric, but I probably couldn’t handle anything stronger than the crazy love I already had for him. . . .

When we reached the front door, he stopped and pulled my hood back, assessing my face. “Perhaps you’re simply fatigued from lack of rest.”

Sometimes the tourniquet slipped. Especially when I slept. “Yeah, maybe.” I still wasn’t free from nightmares about the Emperor’s attack. Last night, I’d shot up in bed screaming. Aric had been right there for me.

“It was just a dream.” He pulled me against him. “You’re safe, love.”

I shook in his arms. The Emperor had to be stopped. I believed Circe—Richter would usher in hell on earth.

“Sievā, shh, shh,” Aric murmured, rocking me. “I’ve got you.”

“Jack used to say that.” I tensed, couldn’t believe I’d uttered that aloud. Where’s your head at, Evie? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Aric said firmly. “You should talk about him. He was a big part of your life.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Aric pulled me back to face him. “Do you try not to think about him?”

After a hesitation, I nodded.

“Jack saved your life and protected you when you were vulnerable. You and I would never have this time if not for him.”

“I . . . let’s not talk about that.” I reached for Aric, seeking that oblivion. “Kiss me. . . .”

Now I assured him, “I’ll get more sleep tonight.” Maybe I’d been too mentally damaged by everything. Maybe I should have taken more time to grieve Jack.

No, no, I couldn’t have. I wanted—needed—to make Aric happy. And we were on borrowed time. . . .

I had believed dying in a fight against Richter would be easier than simply accepting what he’d done. Now I knew what would be harder than both.

Losing Aric.

I couldn’t stifle a shudder.

“Sievā, is there anything more distracting you?”

I shrugged. “Just thinking about Richter a lot.”

“We should train more in the coming weeks. We’ll add an hour each day.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me against him. “You have to be ready to fight. If anything happened to you . . .” He swallowed thickly. “I think I would lose my mind.”

Bingo, Aric.

That’s exactly what happens.

43

Day 499 A.F.

“No male ever had roommates like this trio of females,” Aric said drily.

He and I lay in bed, gazing at each other by firelight, trying not to notice how the entire mountaintop trembled.

Circe’s moat sloshed with whirlpools and eddies, like barely contained violence. In fact, the river often swelled up into rapids, the castle all but waterfront property. Last week, she’d sent a geyser a mile in the air.

All that pent-up energy, just waiting to be unleashed.

I lowered my voice to say, “I caught you eyeing the river earlier with an uneasy look. She could swamp us as an afterthought.”

Even worse? I’d seen the Priestess’s girl water-form moving in the fog—walking among us, like a ghost. When she’d gone still, she’d turned fully transparent. I’d looked right through her.

The other night Aric and I had found wet footsteps leading out of the indoor pool, but no steps leading in. Circe had hydro-ported from one body of water to another, then had been loose inside the castle.

He exhaled. “Swamp us? Or possibly erode the mountain right out from under us?”

“Whoa.” I hadn’t thought of that. “I believe she genuinely cares about you. Looking back, I can see she was doing anything she could to help get us together. But will the heat of battle make her strike?”

“She has garnered a lot of control over the games.”

“Like you.”

He inclined his head. “Yes. In any case, she’s never betrayed me.”

“But I have betrayed her.” I’d finally gotten him to explain what had happened between me and Circe in the last game.

After convincing her that I was different—from the previous times I’d backstabbed her—we’d become friends. But when I’d murdered my ally Fauna, Circe had grown suspicious. Before she could slip away to safety, I’d abducted her, chaining her in my cellar, delaying the kill so Death wouldn’t hear of it or see a new icon.

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