That deck was at the center of his ability to perpetuate an upward spiral.
It dawned on me that I’d been walking into trouble this whole time.
Not walking into his prophecy, but something else entirely.
By giving him chances to show off the cards and make predictions, I was letting him score points. Every spirit that was nearby, maybe excepting the spirits inhabiting me, was getting to be very pleased with this young man who made it all simple for them.
His hand didn’t stop moving, cutting the deck, reordering it.
“She’s decided, with the counsel of her acquaintances. The cavalry is on the way,” Alister said.
The card he showed me was the Chariot. The white-crowned man, ostensibly Conquest or Conquest’s man, standing before a starry backdrop, a ruined city in the background, sphinxes pulling the namesake vehicle.
A little ominous, all things considered.
“You were the one attacking Hillsglade House,” Evan piped up.
“Yes. One of them, but very recently, I did send a few zeitgeists to test the metaphorical waters, ravage the windows and shutters with the vagaries of time.”
“I don’t know what a lot of that means,” Evan declared, “But I know that when someone attacks you, the rules say you can hit them back.”
“You’re not wrong. That’s-”
Evan flew past Alister. He only barely moved out of the way as the sparrow practically bounced off his face. Ricocheted like a flung stone.
Evan passed me, doing a wide loop to get his bearings and look for a spot to land. He was apparently not that keen on the post box where the snow was a foot deep and powder soft.
“The deck,” I said, my voice low. “If you can.”
“Got it,” he said.
Alister touched his face. There was a scratch at his eye socket, and a dot of blood on his nose.
“I thought you said you’d watch your eyes,” Evan said.
“I said I’d try to remember to,” Alister said. He used the side of his thumb to remove one drop of blood from the side of his face, but it was replaced a second later, fresh blood welling out.
He used his free hand to reach into his jacket.
Golden light appeared around him, realigning until it formed ribbons punctuated by Roman numerals, the edges serrated with zipper-like teeth. They interlocked, ran crosswise with one another, and parted, rotating around him, forming a faint, rapid tickticktick that blended in with the knell of Molly’s bell.
I heard a faint sound, like a great piece of machinery grinding to a sudden halt, the noise of the sudden stop playing back in reverse, followed by the tickticktick reversing.
A dot of crimson flew from Evan’s foot, darting to Alister’s face. No sooner had it made contact than the injury was gone.
The golden ribbons disappeared, becoming diffuse golden light, then regular light, then nothing at all, indistinguishable from reality.
“Don’t worry,” Evan told me. “When we took down the circle around the house, Rose was able to do it because chronomancy is mostly fake.”
“I know,” I said.
“I don’t think he can really reverse time to fix a tiny scratch,” Evan said.
But my eyes were fixed on Alister’s green eyes. I could read his expression, and I could see the slight smile.
“I can,” Alister said. “I did.”
“Generations upon generations of conservation of power, and you spend it to heal a scratch that could heal naturally?” I asked.
“It could leave a scar,” Alister answered. “Easier to turn back the clock six seconds than do it by a whole hour, when all of this is said and done.”
The bell continued to ring in the background. It was an odd sound, with a cadence that made it sound like it was constantly getting louder, but it wasn’t.
“Well,” I said. “I’m… almost lost for words.”
“That’s sort of the point,” he said. You’re-” Cutting the deck. Pause. Cutting the deck. Pause. “-Something of a container for spirits. You’re impressed on a level, the other spirits in the area here are impressed.”
“I’m more appalled than impressed,” I said. “I’m kind of glad I told the people I did that they should be wary of nominating you. If I hadn’t, they might have let the others nominate you without issue.”
“You put a roadblock in my way?” Alister asked. “And here you are, being appalled that I mismanaged my time.”
He was following me a little too easily, but he could be surprised.
How could I use that? The cavalry coming to aid me wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I needed to do something decisive fast, or his prediction could come true. But I couldn’t ignore the prophecies, either, or I’d walk right into that ‘ten of swords’. Bad ending.
This was a game, so to speak. It was all about framing things, positioning. Being in the right place. Evan had caught him off guard.
That he was willing to expend power to show off to the spirits said something. We might never burn through the entire Behaim stockpile, but if he did keep doing that sort of thing, I would very much like to be a little fly on the wall when he had to explain it all to the Behaim elders.
Assuming they had a form of accounting.
Positioning.
He’d outlined the rules of this little ‘game’. He’d spelled out what was going to happen.
If it did happen, he won. Somehow.
I needed to postpone.
I still had the book. It was still tied to its brother by sympathy.
I scrawled out a quick message to Rose.
‘Hold ‘help’ back’.
I cut off the cover and threw it.
“Didn’t change anything,” Alister called out. “It’s all slated to unfold.”
He was using his words to garner an advantage. Could I use mine?
“Alister,” I said. “What do the cards tell you about my sword?”
He didn’t look away, per se, his eyes still fixed on me, but he did lose focus. I’d seen him cut that deck a few too many times. I could tell when he hesitated a fraction.
The Five of Coins. A woman in a tattered shawl and a child, walking under a window of stained glass that displayed the namesake coins in the working of the window.
I used the hesitation the card provoked.
I didn’t move left or right. I moved through him.
If he was going to turn around to keep me in focus at all times, I’d make him turn all the way around.
He did a partial turn, and I moved again.
Just one tiny hesitation, and I had the slightest of edges. If we were making individual moves, I now had the benefit of the first move.
“What does it say, Alister?” I asked.
“Adversity. Loss.”
“What does it mean, Alister?” I asked, staying out of his sight.
He didn’t answer.
“You don’t know? That has to cost you points with the spirits,” I said. “Maybe Evan’s right, maybe what you do is a sham, and you’re just conning the spirits.”
“I know what it means,” he said.
“Prove it.”
“That’s alright,” he said.
He managed to find me, locking his eyes with mine. I raised my arm, and Evan took note of the signal, flying.
Evan went straight for the deck. Problem was, Alister was expecting it, and held the cards firm. He punched the bird out of the air with the same hand.