Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2)(78)

“You’re lying.” You can trust me alone, Evie. “Matthew would’ve told me about this.”

Death tsked. “Such trust you have in the Fool. How do you think I learned what my armor would do to your powers?”

I tottered on my feet. “H-he wouldn’t!”

“It’s nothing personal with him, just strategy and scheming.”

I’d thought Matthew an innocent, wide-eyed boy.

“The Fool knew that I’d kill you if I had no means to control you. In essence, he’s saved your life. So far, at least.”

Not all bad is bad, Matthew had said. Endgame, endgame.

While I digested this gut-wrenching information, Death continued, “Deveaux didn’t even like you, but he pursued you.”

“You don’t know anything!” I cried, though I could hear Jack’s words: Even when I hated you, I wanted you.

“One benefit of my endless life? I have quite a grasp on human behavior. How triumphant the mortal must have felt to claim you, to steal you from his dead brother.”

Though everything Death had told me hurt, I refused to let him undermine what I’d found with Jack. “Maybe he did target me. But his feelings grew from that. You’ll have to do better than this.”

“Do better? As you wish, creature.” With an evil grin, he said, “Deveaux killed your mother.”





34

MATTHEW! Answer me this minute!

I’d just reached my tower, was nearly hyperventilating from Death’s reveal.

In his mocking tone, the Reaper had explained that not only had Jack ended Mom’s life so I’d run away with him, but that Matthew—my supposed best friend and ally—had known all along and decided not to tell me.

I’d stormed out, calling Death a liar and much worse. But I feared deep down that the bastard had spoken the truth.

—Empress?—

Death told me things about my mother. About Jack. Did the Reaper lie to me?

—No.—

I squeezed my eyes shut. Matthew, why didn’t you tell me? Why let me be with Jack? I replayed his behavior the morning Mom had passed away. He’d been shaken, almost stunned. Though the Army of the Southeast had been closing in on us, he’d tried so hard to give Mom a decent burial—I’d thought as a kindness to her, or even to me. Now I realized it might have been guilt that had driven him.

I’d slept with that boy, had given him my heart. And all the while he’d known what he’d done. He’d berated me for keeping things from him? Then he’d looked me in the eyes and said, “I got no secrets, peek?n.”

Other than escorting my mother to the other side? He was worse than Death!

When I’d explained to Jack that nothing was more important than trust, he’d assured me that I could trust him alone. No wonder Matthew had called him Dee-vee-oh. Devious!

Maybe you could’ve given me a heads-up, telling me not to fall in love with him?

—Whenever he helps, he hurts.—

How many times had Matthew told me that?

—Your mother wanted you gone before army descended. End was near.— Unless I could’ve gotten her help! Yes, she’d been in dire straits, but surely there had to have been a better way. So Jack assisted her suicide while I was asleep in my bed? And he did it so I’d leave with him?

Silence.

Because he’d been hard-up for me since learning I was his brother’s girl! So how’d he do it? Suffocated Mom with a pillow? I stifled a sob. Helped her OD?

—I looked away.—

Fury blazed inside me. Even with the cuff, my hair began turning red, my claws struggling to bud. Looked away as she died? It was like he’d . . . he’d deserted her. You bastard! Why didn’t you foresee what would happen to her, before she’d even gotten hurt? Maybe warned me not to let her go out?

—Matthew knows best.—

His tone was eerie, his words a disturbing echo of his mother’s—“Mother knows best”—when she’d been about to drown him. This is unforgivable. What else have you kept from me? I trusted you!

—The Empress is my friend.—

No longer! Don’t ever contact me again!

—I won’t talk so loud.— Then his presence in my head vanished.

I had never felt so betrayed and alone.

Since my mother’s passing, Jack and Matthew had been the only constants in all this terror and misery; now those anchors were gone.

I was completely adrift, trapped in the Castle of Lost Time.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I let them fall.





35

DAY 307 A.F.

Nearly a month had passed since that night of revelations, and I remained a wreck.

Hair tangled, face puffy, I sat on my bed in a nightgown, staring out the turret window into the dark. I absently petted Cyclops, who was sprawled beside me, and reflected on the days that kept passing.

The first week after, I’d tried to block out everything. The next week, I’d replayed Jack’s behavior countless times. Since then, I’d been spiraling even lower, imagining how he might have done it. . . .

Walking in a fog, I’d wandered the halls of the manor. I hadn’t felt the pouring rain as I scuffed across the grounds, shadowed at every second by Cyclops. I’d never cried again, but only because I sensed Death was always watching me, or Lark through the wolf.