Endless Knight(15)

For now.

As the afternoon wore on, my foreboding feeling grew and grew. I was dragging ass, huffing and puffing, the acrid scent of burned wood stinging my nose. I’d trained as a dancer for years, but compared to the boys and Selena, my stamina was laughable. The ongoing drizzle provided enough moisture for the ash and mud to congeal like glue.

I’d toppled over so many times, my hands were coated with globs of it, my hair as well. Remains. In my hair.

Finn was just ahead, Matthew at my side like a pilot fish. Selena and Jackson were staggered, far in the lead as we headed for the next valley to the south. She’d mentioned seeing a town there on her map; I supposed we were heading toward it. Jackson must have been as well.

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, I struggled to process it all. Arthur’s defeat, the return of some of my memories, the showdown with Joules, the dream of Death.

Jackson admitting what he thought of me.

Selena had been bang-on when she’d said he was disgusted. I would have given anything to talk to him, to explain that I might not be right, but it wasn’t a choice I’d made to hurt him. It wasn’t a choice whatsoever.

“You okay back there, Evie?” Finn asked with a worried look. “Maybe we ought to stop for a minute.”


“I’m fine.” I’m dying! “Got to keep moving.” I would chop off my right, marked hand to stop. We’d never had to contend with mud before. I hoped it would slow down any zombies—or Arcana—who decided to pursue us.

“Okay. Cool.” He carried on ahead as if I’d told him the truth or something.

I could barely talk, but questions were swirling in my head. Under my ragged breath, I said, “Matthew, last night I dreamed of a time when Death stabbed a past Empress with a sword. Did you send me that dream?”


“Yep.”


“Why now? I’ve already learned about my abilities.” I’d used most of them yesterday and today.

“Learn to defeat Death. You will fight him with your powers.”


That Empress in my dream hadn’t been able to use any powers for me to learn from. “All of those dreams have seemed familiar, but in this one, I could feel Death’s sword entering my body.”


“You felt it.”


“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”


He nodded, effortlessly meandering beside me. “You felt it in a past life.”


I turned on him, gritting out the words: “Past life?” He’d never told me that the nightmares I’d had were in fact about me. “You never said that we were reincarnates.”


Of course, he’d never said we weren’t reincarnates. Hadn’t I suspected? From the visions Matthew had revealed, I’d witnessed a past Empress so horrific, I’d dubbed her the red witch.

But hadn’t her deeds felt like memories?

“The Empress has a sense of humor this time,” Matthew said, repeating a comment he’d made weeks ago.

This time. Because I was the same card, just a different version. Hundreds of years ago, she’d been a vicious killer.

I hadn’t been anything less with Arthur.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. In a past life, I’d suffered that blow. Was that what awaited me in my present one? “The Empress from last night’s dream seemed different from the one I’ve been seeing since before the Flash.” The one who’d used sea plants to destroy whole galleons and spores to murder entire villages.

“Going back farther, farther,” Matthew said. “Two games before. You were the May Queen then. Red witch was Phyta. You are Poison Princess. You are all of them: Lady Lotus, Mistress of Flora, Queen of Thorns.”


He’d told me these names before, but I hadn’t thought they’d referred to individual Empresses. “Why go back to another game? I’ve already hit my limit with dreams—with memories—of the red witch.” Or Phyta, or whoever.

“This Death first met you then.”


“You mean Death in this reincarnation?” His present life had started thousands of years ago. I might have come back as three different Empresses since then, but he’d simply endured and survived year after year, game after game. “Okay, fine, so you want me to have these memories. Then why are you piecemealing this information, Matthew? Why not just give me all the memories?”


“I did. Two games’ worth. Your mind resists. Dreams relent. Safety valve.”


“Wait . . .” I was struggling to keep up physically—and topic-wise. “So I have all the memories from two games, I just have to dream them? Why can’t I see them all at once?”


He gave me an indulgent look. “Then you’d be like me. Crazy. You are Death’s weakness.”


“So you keep telling me. Does he happen to know my weaknesses?”


“As well as his face in the mirror. Pay attention to your dreams. I’m in his pocket, so he’s in my eyes.”


It wasn’t the first time Matthew had told me that, but I hadn’t understood him. Now I did. Death could see me through Matthew’s eyes, so he always knew what was happening with me. And though I didn’t understand how, Death could drop in on my thoughts at will. Our last exchange had been during this morning’s harried climb: