Aric, come back to me.
At Joules’s and Kentarch’s questioning looks, I said, “Gabe’s still there. The three are all still under Paul’s thrall. We’re still out here starving. My husband is being controlled by pure evil.”
Kentarch’s hands clenched the wheel. “Which means the Hanged Man is winning.”
16
Day 543 A.F.
For the last week, I’d hailed Circe with more and more desperation. Not so much as a ripple from her. Nor a flicker from Matthew.
Each time I tried to communicate with him, I wondered anew if I’d imagined Jack’s voice. As ever, I didn’t feel like I had a firm grasp on what was real/unreal.
Replaying Aric’s tone on the phone didn’t help my mental state. It’d reminded me of his hostility when he’d first captured me in this game. He’d threatened me constantly, taunting me with my demise: Is this the day I decapitate the creature?
Since then, I’d come to depend on him, counting on his love. He was my soul mate; we belonged together. So how could he say those hateful things to me?
If my mind was as screwed up as everyone kept thinking, then maybe the months I’d had with Aric in his castle were the dream. Maybe I’d been asleep this entire time and would wake up tied to Thanatos, a captive walking barefoot across a punishing terrain.
I’d probably prefer that to being pregnant.
Day 545 A.F.
Still no sign of Circe.
We’d started going stir-crazy in the Beast. Truck cabin fever. So whenever we found a decent-looking shelter, we’d overnight inside, starting a fire. Kentarch was handy at sourcing precious wood. A door. A chair. A cradle.
But nothing to eat. Cat food was beginning to look good.
Day 546 A.F.
I was right. Cat food tasted worse on the way up. As my best friend Mel would’ve said in my situation: “Somebody better get some mothertrucking filet mignon up in this bitch, or I will MUTINY.”
Day 548 A.F.
The big, bad Empress sobbed when we got down to our last cans of Sheba.
Aric, you bastard, come back to me.
17
Day 550 A.F.
“What can I do for you, Empress?” Death asked me in a pleasant tone.
Half delirious, I’d filched Kentarch’s phone from the truck, then sneaked back into our current accommodations—a firelit cave—to place a call. “Aric, I need to come home.” I’d feared that Kentarch would leave our fragile alliance, but here I was, breaking ranks first.
“Home?” God, how could he sound so snide? “Do you mean my castle?”
“You have to come get me.” I knelt beside the cave’s trash pile, picking up an empty cat-food can. Tears welling, I ran my finger along the edge for another crumb. Nothing. I’d already licked it clean.
At that moment, I despised Aric.
When I tossed the can away, my ring caught the firelight, the amber stone drawing my eye. The band hung so loosely on my finger I’d had to coat it with sap to keep it on.
“I burn to come get you, Empress. Alas, I can’t leave just now.” His voice was a perfect mix of good humor and callousness. “You see, I have a particular susceptibility to your charms.”
As he spoke, my gaze darted around the large cavern. No one was in here with me, and yet I again got that feeling of being watched. I told him, “I feel their eyes on me all the time.” It was driving me crazy!
“Whose eyes?”
“I-I don’t know. I feel them.” Matthew had told me to beware of Bagmen, slavers, militia, cannibals, and Minors. I’d fought every group except for the last. He’d said they watched us, plotting against us.
Could they be following us?
I’d asked Joules if Cally’s chronicles had mentioned the Minors. He’d said, “In parts. Basically the only way you’ll know they exist is if something goes really wrong with the game. They’re not allowed to hurt us, and we can’t hurt them.”
Aric said, “Your stint out in the Ash has taken a toll on you, Empress. You’re not making sense.”
“Not just the Ash. Against all odds, I’m still pregnant.” Dizziness was my new companion; sleep was all I wanted to do. “I can’t go on much longer.”
Late last night as I’d tossed and turned in my sleeping bag, Kentarch had murmured, “Enough is enough.” He’d sat beside me and unsheathed his knife. I’d felt a flare of fear until he’d rolled up his sleeve.
“You must have nourishment.” He raised the blade above his forearm. “Come, Empress, you are supposed to be bloodthirsty.”
“Uh-uh,” I said weakly. “Maybe this is the gateway drug to cannibalism. I don’t want to be a cannibal.” I’d only throw it up anyway. The thought of vomiting warm blood made me retch.
“My people would often drink the blood of cattle. And the Maasai were no cannibals.”
I told him, “You need it.” Kentarch’s enviable cheekbones had taken on a grotesque cast.
“If she doesn’t want it”—Joules looked sunken-eyed and skeletal himself—“I’ll toss my hat in the ring.”
Now I told Aric, “You promised me you wouldn’t stop until I was yours forever. That you wouldn’t ever rest. I am yours. But you’re throwing me away. Us away.” Tears spilled. “Take me back, and use the cilice to control my abilities until our kid is born. Then kill me if you still want to.”
“Ah, the cilice.” His tone held a grin. “I found it down in the rubble of the nursery after our battle with Ogen, with your flesh still attached to it.”
I’d forced Lark to carve it off me so I could fight. At the memory of that pain, I heaved, but had nothing in my belly to throw up.
“If you only knew the story behind it . . . . Come to my castle, and we will discuss your proposition.”
“I can’t get th-there!” I scarcely recognized my defeated voice. Hunger was reversing my personality. These days, my emotions barreled back and forth between weepiness and seething anger.
I felt like a drunk ex, sobbing in one breath to get back together and railing in the next. Come pick me up at the bar I hate you.
“Are you crying?” he asked with a laugh. “By all the gods, your tears cheer me. Of course, they’ll dry as soon as you hang up the phone. You always were a talented deceiver.”
“Aric, Es tevi mīlu. I love you.” He’d said I kept his soul within me, right next to mine.
“The sentiment is no longer returned.”
“Do you want me to beg?” The red witch would never beg; she still seemed to be enjoying her nap.
“Yes, Empress. I would like that very much. Beg me, and I’ll consider the cilice.”
Biting back my pride, I parted my lips to say—
“Oi, bait, c’mere!” Joules called from the cave entrance. “You’re on deck. We’ve got a live one, so leg it down to the road.”
Was I relieved to be interrupted or pissed? Both.