Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2)(67)

“Unless you do something, huh?”

“Bingo. You want me to forgive you? Then earn it. You’re going to give me Death’s schedule, a layout of the compound, and a map of this mountain. Right after you show me the garden.”

“Oh, am I?” She grinned, as if we were embarking on a new, fun pastime.

“Mark my words, Lark. You’re going to do it today. . . .”





29

DAY 272 A.F.

A week had passed and Lark had given up precisely not shit.

Whenever I demanded answers, she’d just chuckle, telling me, “Stop and smell the roses.” At least she’d been leaving my cell unlocked, not that I could ever ditch my unshakable guard.

This morning I was pacing in my turret, Cyclops snoring in front of the door. Seven days wasted, and I was no closer to escaping, no closer to taking out Death.

Matthew had been of little help. In each of his daily check-ins, he’d told me how desperate Jack was to find me, how much anguish the boy felt that he couldn’t save me from Death. Those check-ins made me crazed to reach Jack. I was worried sick about all of them out there.

If my only option against the Reaper was seducing him to trust me, then I was more than ready to play the up-to-a-point seductress.

Unfortunately, I was rarely around him. Most often he was either training in the yard or sequestered in his “unauthorized” rooms. The one meal Death always appeared for was breakfast, but he was usually engrossed in his newspaper.

I had asked him questions—about the weather, his home, the game, pet peeves, favorite food, anything—and he’d ignored me as if I were a pesky fly.

To my face, he showed no interest. Yet I felt his eyes on me constantly. When I took my daily walks outside to get the lay of the land, I would sometimes peer up and see him staring at me from his arched windows. And this morning, as I’d stood at the sideboard, I’d sensed his penetrating gaze on me. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I’d caught him raising the paper—with his hands clenched into fists. . . .

I stopped pacing and sat in the turret’s window seat. From here, I had a view of the entire compound, including the training yard where Death practiced every day. He never wore armor for this, usually didn’t even bother with a shirt. Which made sense—clothing was going to prove harder and harder to come by.

He was down there right now, training with his horse, Thanatos, charging a moving target: a shield suspended from a swiveling post, moving in the wind. Even at full speed, Death hit it every time.

Though gusts whipped his blond hair, he seemed oblivious to the cold and rain. Mud splattered his bare chest, across those runes, as if he were fresh from the fray. Even with his new scars, Death was breathtaking.

As he practiced, I found myself lulled by his precise movements and harnessed aggression, my lids growing heavy, as if with . . . satisfaction. As if I was right where I was supposed to be. Which freaked me out. Satisfaction when in the lair of a murderer? One who planned to kill me?

Unless I got to him first.

—Empress? You awake?—

I’m up. Matthew, give me some good news.

—The snow hasn’t come yet.—

Great. Is Jack doing any better?

—No.—

I squeezed my eyes shut. As much as I hated the thought of Jack suffering, I knew we couldn’t be together, not until I succeeded here. You’ve kept him off my trail?

—You’re in my eyes.— Matthew showed me a live vision. Through his gaze, I could see the interior of a run-down house, could see Jack there. God, I missed him!

His expression wild, he punched his fist through a plaster wall, then swung around to turn over a table stacked with maps. Even through the vision, I could feel his frustration, would give anything to ease it.

He stormed up to Matthew. “You know where she is, coo-y?n!” he bellowed at the boy. “Doan tell me different. You’ll find her, just like you did in Requiem.”

Matthew turned his head to show me Selena and Finn sitting in silence, as if waiting for this to blow over.

As if used to it.

I noticed Jack wasn’t drinking, and that departure from his normal behavior concerned me as much as everything else I was seeing.

He raked his hand through his hair. “Why woan you help me, boy? I told ma fille I’d be coming for her.” My girl. When his gray eyes misted wet, my heart lurched. “What the hell is he doing to her?!”

Matthew, you haven’t told him I’m safe! Do it now!

—Won’t lie.—

Another worry to put on the heap of them. But for now, all I could think about was Jack.

Voice gone raw, he asked Matthew, “Is that bastard . . . is he hurting her?”

Tell him I’m fine, just passing time until the storms end! Tell him I’ll meet up with you in a couple of weeks. Please, please don’t make him suffer like this.

Jack looked like he would go insane if this went on for much longer. Which put an even more pressing clock on my mission to win over Death.

Matthew, please, I’m begging you to help Jack.

—He’s tempted to beat your location out of me. But you asked him to keep me safe.—

I thought you couldn’t read Dee-vee-oh well.

—Doesn’t take a Fool to foresee this! Jack Deveaux talks with fists.—

You sound almost admiring.