Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Final death. Atone.”
My tears started anew. “Oh, Matthew. You knew this would happen. You predicted this.”
He’d foreseen a straight line through to the future. And he was the endpoint.
“I stepped off the carousel. The last Matthew.”
He was talking about reincarnation. He would never be reborn again. “You planned everything.” He’d saved the world from another game, from another disaster that might have wiped us out.
“Matthew knew best.” Past tense.
He’d given us a gift from his heart, one that could never be equaled.
Love was the universe.
Tears coursed down my cheeks. “I-I understand now.”
“I will sleep forever and ever at the end.” His lids grew heavier, lungs laboring. Anguish marred the deep grooves in his face. “Empress was my friend.” Was. Again, past tense.
A sob left my lips. “There’s got to be another way. I don’t want to lose you.”
“We will never meet again.”
I wanted to fix this, to save the day. For a second, I thought I smelled roses, but I had no powers. Had Matthew retained all of his? If so, he’d probably foreseen anything I might have said, any plea I might come up with—
“Yes.” He managed a slight smile. “It’s okay. Tired of dying.”
I tenderly stroked the flop of gray hair from his forehead. “Oh, sweetheart, I guess you would be.” He’d lived through all the games, preserving memories of those lives and of each of his deaths. “I still don’t want to let you go. I’ve missed you so much.” Yet then I recalled Aric urging me so long ago: Empress, let him rest.
“Things will happen beyond your wildest imaginings.”
I remembered this conversation. “Good things?”
His voice grew hoarse as he said, “Good, good, good, good, good-bye. You are my friend.”
I swiped at my tears. “Always, Matthew. Always.”
He weakly drew me beside him on the bed. We lay, tucked together, as we used to do on the road. He kept my hand in his and murmured, “Sleep.”
I grew warm, unable to keep my eyes open, just like when he’d first shown me a vision of the game. Holding Matthew’s hand, I dreamed as he did—of symbols.
Vortexes and wolves and arrows and lightning. I dreamed of a scythe that made peace with cane. I dreamed of battles and daring, of magics and unity.
I dreamed of the end of an eternal life.
The Fool’s.
He would never live again, but that didn’t mean he was dead. In this vision, I watched him with a bundle over his shoulder, a white rose in his hand, and a little dog at his heels. As the sun shone down, serenity filled his expression.
When he tumbled off the cliff, he would embark on a different kind of journey.
Matthew Mat Zero Matto was finally free.
I woke with another sob. Beside me, he was gone. His unseeing eyes were open, a single tear streaking down his weathered cheek. But his face was at rest.
Like this, traces of the young man he’d been were visible to me. Yet that young man was now gone forever—the one player who would never return.
Unlike every Arcana who’d ever existed, he’d retained his icons in death. They remained; he didn’t.
I whispered, “Fair travels, my beloved friend.” I leaned down and kissed his cooling cheek, then closed his lids for the last time.
No one would ever know how one Arcana—who’d been written off by so many—had ended a lethal game and saved the entire world.
No, they would know.
Because I would tell them. Evangeline means to spread good tidings.
My mom’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Ivy, what is taking you so long? We’re going to be late.” She entered my room and stopped, blinked furiously. “Why is there a . . . oh, goddesses, why is there a dead man in your bed?”
“He’s the Fool.”
She narrowed her eyes with irritation and huffed in a breath, about to scold—until her gaze landed on his hands, on those icons. “It’s him!”
I stood, wiping my face. “Yes.” I grabbed some clothes and dressed for a long ride. “We need to have a funeral for him in the Arcana cemetery. Schedule it for Saturday.”
She nodded, for once bereft of words. Then she frowned that I was giving her orders.
Was she my mom reincarnated? I might never know, but I loved her regardless. Would my children return to me? Only time would tell.
All I knew was that Aric would arrive soon. To make the port by daybreak, I’d have to put my sorrow on hold.
I gave Matthew one last kiss good-bye, then I faced my mom. “I’ll be back soon. I love you very much.” Leaving her flabbergasted, I headed down the stairs and out of the house toward the stables.
After saddling a mare, I hurried to the Arcana museum. Had my mom followed me?
I strode inside and made my way to the Empress exhibit. Preserved behind glass were my private pictures and keepsakes. I passed the letter Lark had left me and the chronicles Tee had written for his father.