The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(81)

Lorraine nodded. “If the blood is freely offered, we will answer a single question.”

Matthew wasn’t the only one who could see far. That’s why the Cups had taken random samples in the quarantine. They hadn’t been testing for contagion; they’d been foreseeing whether those folks had an epidemic in their future.

Kentarch materialized fully up in the balcony. “Clairvoyants?” Joules blipped beside him.

Lorraine turned to them. “Ah, the Chariot and the Tower.” Her guards tensed, readying their rifles. “Do you mean the Cups harm?”

Kentarch shook his head, then teleported down to her. “My wife is missing.” He was already rolling up the sleeve on his bad arm. “I have searched for her for months. Can you tell me where she is?”

If Lorraine was surprised that he’d lost his hand, she didn’t indicate it. “I can tell you whether you’ll find her and where.” She positioned the knife and chalice.

I quickly said, “Kentarch, watch yourself with her. You weren’t here when she bragged about forcing innocent men off the plank. They’ve been executing a new victim every week.”

“Empress, I must know how to find Issa.” He said to Lorraine, “Please help me.”

She tilted her head. “Where did you last see her?”

He explained the situation at the penthouse, how his wife had disappeared from an impenetrable stronghold.

Lorraine listened intently, then said, “No wonder you’re desperate to locate her. All you’ve known is victory. How frustrating for the eminent Chariot, the card associated with bold excellence, to fail for so long.” She tsked. “All you want is a foe to vanquish.” Woe to the bloody vanquished.

He offered his arm. “I have no care for success or failure, as long as Issa lives.” His brows knitted when Lorraine drew the blade above the scarred skin of his wrist, but he didn’t make a sound as his blood poured into her chalice.

“There.” She smiled at the steaming contents. “That should do it.” She gazed into the cup, as if looking through a window. “I can seeeee you,” she murmured in an eerie tone. “I’ve found you here in the blood. You carry around a bottle of her favorite beer. Tusker, is it?”

His eyes went wide. “Yes! Will we share it? Please, tell me.”

Taking her time, Lorraine said, “Your modern penthouse still had electricity.”

Impatience emanated from him. “Is that where we will reunite? Will Issa return to our home?” How could she if he’d blocked all the exits? But then, how could she have left?

“The maddening puzzle of that locked stronghold will call you back there. Frantic for a clue, you’ll take a pickax to the very walls.”

For the first time, uneasiness crossed Kentarch’s expression.

“Behind a fa?ade, you’ll uncover a hidden panic room. Had she found it as well?”

He made a sound like a whimper. What was he fearing? What pain was coming his way?

“You’ll recall that the redundant power had failed that last day, and you’ll fear the outage triggered the door to close on her. You’ll imagine her running for the exit, only to be sealed in the darkness. You’ll suspect that even with your acute senses, you couldn’t have heard her screams through those slabs of blast-proof metal. Shuddering, half-mad, you’ll go intangible and walk through the wall. Inside the panic room, you will find . . . her remains.”

My breath caught in my throat as I shared a stunned look with Jack. Issa had been dead all along?

“You will read the letter that she wrote for you in the dark,” Lorraine said, as if discussing the weather. “You will comprehend that you abandoned your precious wife—you, the one person who could easily have rescued her from that tomb.” The queen gazed up at Kentarch. “And you, my dear one, will lose your mind.”

He shook his head violently “No. No. No.” He backed away from her, as if he could distance himself from her words.

I cried, “She’s got to be lying.” But how could Lorraine know those details?

Joules clambered down the balcony steps. “Easy, Tarch!”

Lorraine frowned into the cup, then jerked her head up. Was that a flicker of fear? She snapped her fingers, and two guards rushed in front of her. “This isn’t the future I’m seeing. This is the past. You’ve already done these things! Have already lost your mind! You returned and discovered Issa’s body right before you set out for Death’s castle.”

My jaw slackened.

Kentarch’s strong frame quaked. “That body I found cannot be Issa’s. My eyes must have deceived me. Which means this letter”—his voice cracked as he brushed his coat pocket—“cannot be hers. I would never leave her behind; Issa is everything to me.”

I tottered on my feet. “Kentarch . . .” He was a friend who needed help, a man broken by the Flash.

He’d asked me if I trusted the whisper of my hope. The Chariot had trusted his too much.

He ran his bloody forearm over his watering eyes. “She is out there. I will keep searching the Ash.” His outline began to waver. “I will never give up.”

Jack thrashed again. “Stay with us, podna!”

Joules lunged for the Chariot, catching his shoulder. “Don’t go, mate!” But Kentarch was already disappearing.