Kentarch checked the mirrors again. “Then how do we fight this new enemy?”
“The Priestess. Circe is a witch, so I’m hoping she can do a spell.” I recalled the sight of those towering ice shards. She’d been trying to get to me—but I wasn’t sure why. I took a steadying breath, deciding to believe in her. “She’s probably unaffected by the Hanged Man since she’s still safe in her abyss. I think she was trying to help with my escape.”
Kentarch’s demeanor turned contemplative. “Strange that she and I were allies throughout the games, but I have no memories of her.”
“She was always loyal to you.” To me as well. I just hadn’t returned that loyalty until this game. “We can try to contact her. She’s a friend of mine.” Surely she’d know how to defeat Paul, a player I hadn’t even been able to scratch.
“Friend?” Joules snorted. “We heard she attacked you outside of Fort Arcana.”
“Only a little. She didn’t commit to it.”
Joules rolled his eyes. “Oh, well, in that case . . .”
“If anyone has any better ideas, I’m open to hearing them.”
“How will we summon this witch?” Kentarch asked, making it sound like we were summoning the kraken.
Circe would get a kick out of that. I imagined us chuckling together. Then reality returned. My husband wanted to murder me, and Finn was dead. Laughter was a long way away, not even a glimmer on the horizon. “I usually just make a lot of noise and bat at the water. Doesn’t often work.”
Kentarch raised his brows. “I’d anticipated something more . . . formal.”
“We’ll have to find a body of water not trapped in ice. The larger the better. Preferably as close to the Bermuda Triangle as possible.”
“I can only teleport to places I’ve already been, and this is as far south as I’ve traveled in this country. We could drive to the nearest coast.”
“That would put us in the Outer Banks.” Right where my grandmother had been locked up. Seemed I’d always been fated to go there—except Jack was supposed to have taken me; that had been our plan. “We’ll contact Circe from the Atlantic.”
The idea of even more distance between me and Aric made my chest ache, but my MacGuffin awaited. What would I find? Probably something I’d been meant to discover since the beginning.
Glancing from the road to the GPS map, Kentarch said, “If our way is clear, we should make it in less than a week.”
“That long?” The man I loved was under the sway of an Arcana killer who betrayed for kicks.
“Yes, we must be vigilant against threats.”
“Whoa, hold up on our route,” Joules said. “We suspected that one of Richter’s lairs is between these mountains and the coast. And if Circe is under the influence, she could use the ocean to swamp us.”
I turned to Kentarch. “Not if the Chariot can teleport us out of the way.”
He nodded. “I will need time to recuperate.”
Impatience hammered at me. “Paul’s influence will probably keep spreading. And Aric and the others will be sitting ducks against Richter if we’re not all united.”
Joules asked, “Won’t Richter just get brainwashed too?”
“He might know what that yellow haze is and avoid it entirely. Plus, he and Zara don’t have to get close; they can strike the castle from afar. We need to get moving on this.”
Kentarch shrugged his broad shoulders. “Without food, I tire very easily.”
“You and me both.” Joules investigated a camo pouch. “You got any scraps in this truck?”
“Nothing. I haven’t eaten in days. With luck, we will meet other travelers. My hearing is acute, so I will know of anyone’s approach in advance.”
“To roll them?” To steal whatever supplies were keeping them alive?
“That’s right, Empress,” Joules said. “Some of us haven’t been living in that warm and holy castle. Out here, it’s dog eat dog. Survival of the fittest.”
“Don’t lecture me, choirboy. After Richter’s massacre, I was out on the road alone—with one freaking arm—rolling folks.” Of course, I’d reasoned that my robbing the innocent hadn’t counted, because I’d intended to go back in time and change the future. My thefts would never have occurred. The best-laid plans and all that . . . .
Kentarch said, “I prefer not to harm others, but I will do anything to reunite with Issa.”
I had to sigh. “You really love her.”
His voice dropped an octave. “Unreservedly.”
Without reservations. Aric had loved me, but he’d clearly had reservations.
“I feel as if time is running out.” Kentarch gripped the steering wheel harder. “The pressure to find her has been immense.”
Sooner or later, would Kentarch ditch us for Paul’s alliance?
As if reading my mind, Joules said, “If you returned to the castle, they could still help you. Brainwashed or not, Lark or Gabriel could pick up your wife’s scent.”
I shot Joules a look. Stop putting ideas into his head! I hastily told Kentarch, “If you joined them, Paul wouldn’t allow you or anyone else to leave his sphere in order to look for her. He’d probably make you believe that he saw her dead body or that she no longer wanted you.”
Kentarch said, “All my life I’ve strived for absolute mastery over myself and my fate. Again and again, I’ve wrenched victory from certain defeat.” Woe to the bloody vanquished. “The idea of surrendering my free will to another man, especially a craven murderer, strikes me as a descent into hell.”
“Then we’re on the same page,” I said. “Understand me: there’s no scenario where Paul helps you above himself.”
Joules’s stomach growled loudly. “I’m dying here.” He elbowed me. “You can make fruit. How about something for the road?”
“I’d expend as many calories as it would provide. If not more. And I don’t have a lot of reserves.”
He eyed me. “How come you’re skinny? You’re pregnant, and you’ve had all the food in the world.”
I shrugged. Ah, now the pain in my shoulder returned. “Can’t keep it down.”
“So what happens when we kill the Hanged Man? Gabe and I are still screwed. Death will never let us live in his lair. I say we gank Paul and the Reaper, then take over the whole place.”
“Really, Joules?”
“How’re you goin’ to get back together with Death after what he did?”
“Because I’ve felt how consuming Arcana mind control can be. The Hierophant nearly made me eat part of a man I’d just met. I can’t even explain how strong the pull was. Paul’s influence turned Aric’s card.”
Voicing my worst fear, Joules said, “I canna help but think the Reaper was reverting to form.”
According to Paul, that was exactly what’d happened. The look in Aric’s eyes . . . the way he’d crushed his ring . . . Could hatred that strong be manufactured by another?
If not, then Aric’s rage had always been there, simmering. The factory setting. Had he been conscious of it?
Even if I saved him, what kind of future would we have if a part of him harbored such animosity?