and his friends, the Reaper had sensed us. And didn’t I perceive a heaviness whenever he was about? “Until then, how do I know Death won’t try to prevent me from reaching Gran?” I asked, hoping that Matthew might confirm she was even alive.
“Bores Death. He doesn’t believe in her as you do.”
“Can you please tell me if she’s safe?”
“Define safe ,” Matthew said with a look at his hand. Subject done.
She had to be alive. I had to believe Matthew cared about me enough not to let me go on a wild-goose chase.
“Why does Death have such an interest in me, anyway? There are other cards to terrorize.”
Shrug.
“You know, but you’re not telling me.”
Smile. “Crazy like a fox!”
“Matthew, come on—” A branch snapped some distance to my right. I jerked around but saw nothing. A clammy feeling crawled over my nape. “Are we being watched?”
He blinked at me. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Are we in danger?”
He chuckled, shaking his forefinger at me. “Sense of humor.”
Yeah, I guessed we never got out of danger. I kept walking. “Is Jackson going to leave us?” As soon as I’d asked this, I regretted the expenditure of breath. I knew the answer to that question.
He’d been taking point, trudging onward, with his hoodie pulled up. All day his expression had varied between enraged and more enraged. Like he was getting pissed off anew every few minutes.
He wasn’t talking to me, but he also ignored Selena and Finn. Yep, he’d checked out mentally. I figured he’d get ghost as soon as we made the next town.
“Should’ve said good-bye. Arcana and non-Arcana mix poorly.” Matthew sighed. “Dee-vee-oh stares at you when you don’t see. Hunter. Watching. You’re the angel atop the Christmas tree that he can never reach. Gift beneath that he can’t unwrap.”
You’d have thought I’d be used to Matthew’s ramblings. I wasn’t.
“All his life, all false faces. Born of a false face. You showed him yours.”
Jackson still carried the scars of his poverty-stricken childhood. His father had refused to pay support, or even to acknowledge his destitute son. His mother had been an alcoholic who’d entertained drunken lovers. Those men had abused her—and beaten Jackson, teaching him not to trust.
Teaching him to be ruthless and to communicate with his fists.
All he’d ever known was deception and violence.
How could he not see me as deceitful and violent, as more of the same? Before his eyes, I’d turned into a viney-skinned, poisonousmonster—one who’d been cackling to slit some scrawny Irish kid’s throat.
Matthew said, “Think less about Dee-vee-oh, more about game.”
Toiling up a steep incline, I considered what I remembered about the cards. Last night, when I’d gazed at my new icon, memories of my grandmother had flooded me in a rush. They were still fragments, but growing more fully formed with each hour.
I could recall her telling me about players who controlled animals as I did plants. I remembered cards that could manipulate the elements.
Her voice seemed to echo in my head: “The details of the images are important. They’re to be read like a map.” “Study the cards. Memorize them. The symbols are all there for a reason, Evie. They tell you about the players.”
How I wished I could lay hands on a deck. I knew the cards were chock-full of dots to connect, threads in common. Some cards had animal images on them, some plants. Others had water or fire.
I recalled Gran humming as she’d shuffled her deck, preparing to quiz me. “Which cards are the best spellbinders?”
I’d chirped, “The Hierophant and the Lovers. And me!”
“The strongest in body?”
“The Devil! The Devil is so strong!”
No wonder my mom had gotten spooked.
At the top of the rise, Finn waited up for us. “Evie, I wanted to apologize again for making myself look like Jack and accidentally tricking you and making you run away and all. Forgive me?”
Was I still
“Bores Death. He doesn’t believe in her as you do.”
“Can you please tell me if she’s safe?”
“Define safe ,” Matthew said with a look at his hand. Subject done.
She had to be alive. I had to believe Matthew cared about me enough not to let me go on a wild-goose chase.
“Why does Death have such an interest in me, anyway? There are other cards to terrorize.”
Shrug.
“You know, but you’re not telling me.”
Smile. “Crazy like a fox!”
“Matthew, come on—” A branch snapped some distance to my right. I jerked around but saw nothing. A clammy feeling crawled over my nape. “Are we being watched?”
He blinked at me. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Are we in danger?”
He chuckled, shaking his forefinger at me. “Sense of humor.”
Yeah, I guessed we never got out of danger. I kept walking. “Is Jackson going to leave us?” As soon as I’d asked this, I regretted the expenditure of breath. I knew the answer to that question.
He’d been taking point, trudging onward, with his hoodie pulled up. All day his expression had varied between enraged and more enraged. Like he was getting pissed off anew every few minutes.
He wasn’t talking to me, but he also ignored Selena and Finn. Yep, he’d checked out mentally. I figured he’d get ghost as soon as we made the next town.
“Should’ve said good-bye. Arcana and non-Arcana mix poorly.” Matthew sighed. “Dee-vee-oh stares at you when you don’t see. Hunter. Watching. You’re the angel atop the Christmas tree that he can never reach. Gift beneath that he can’t unwrap.”
You’d have thought I’d be used to Matthew’s ramblings. I wasn’t.
“All his life, all false faces. Born of a false face. You showed him yours.”
Jackson still carried the scars of his poverty-stricken childhood. His father had refused to pay support, or even to acknowledge his destitute son. His mother had been an alcoholic who’d entertained drunken lovers. Those men had abused her—and beaten Jackson, teaching him not to trust.
Teaching him to be ruthless and to communicate with his fists.
All he’d ever known was deception and violence.
How could he not see me as deceitful and violent, as more of the same? Before his eyes, I’d turned into a viney-skinned, poisonousmonster—one who’d been cackling to slit some scrawny Irish kid’s throat.
Matthew said, “Think less about Dee-vee-oh, more about game.”
Toiling up a steep incline, I considered what I remembered about the cards. Last night, when I’d gazed at my new icon, memories of my grandmother had flooded me in a rush. They were still fragments, but growing more fully formed with each hour.
I could recall her telling me about players who controlled animals as I did plants. I remembered cards that could manipulate the elements.
Her voice seemed to echo in my head: “The details of the images are important. They’re to be read like a map.” “Study the cards. Memorize them. The symbols are all there for a reason, Evie. They tell you about the players.”
How I wished I could lay hands on a deck. I knew the cards were chock-full of dots to connect, threads in common. Some cards had animal images on them, some plants. Others had water or fire.
I recalled Gran humming as she’d shuffled her deck, preparing to quiz me. “Which cards are the best spellbinders?”
I’d chirped, “The Hierophant and the Lovers. And me!”
“The strongest in body?”
“The Devil! The Devil is so strong!”
No wonder my mom had gotten spooked.
At the top of the rise, Finn waited up for us. “Evie, I wanted to apologize again for making myself look like Jack and accidentally tricking you and making you run away and all. Forgive me?”
Was I still
Similar Books
