“Some of us place a higher power in these cards than just money,” Cain answers. “I learned about Perilli’s decks from my dad. He taught me how to be a Wanderer. All he ever wanted was to find one of Perilli’s missing cards before he died. He… didn’t get to do that.”

Grief then plays across Cain’s face, raw and unmistakable.

“When I got the call today from Maggie, only days after my dad… Well, it felt like a sign. Especially when I heard you all were so close to my age. And that you inherited the deck from someone you loved, too.”

Cain’s eyes turn to connect with Amelia, next. He can probably see it in her just as strongly, the desire to honor a legacy left behind.

“I came here to help you find the Prince of Wands, as a tribute to my dad.”

As moving as these sentiments might be, I try to remain skeptical. “How do we know you won’t just take the card from us once we find it?”

Cain turns back to me, looking like I’ve asked an offensive question. In response, I glance down at the lighter and bat on his belt. Cain understands.

“Perilli believed in finding physical expressions of our deepest beliefs. These were my dad’s,” he explains. “Baseball and phoenixes were his favorite things. I’ve carried these both with me everywhere since he gave them to me.”

“Is the phoenix part of this whole Perillian Wanderer thing?” Logan asks.

“Phoenixes fit, but being a Wanderer is about more than that,” Cain answers. “Perilli taught that the reverent throughout history have wandered the desert seeking—”

Cain then stops himself, looking around as if he has somehow said too much. I suddenly picture the phoenix painted on the Death card in our deck, its fiery wings unfurling as it rises from a mound of ashes. The card scared me when I was younger, but eventually I began to find comfort in the Death phoenix. It symbolized that death could always be about rebirth, in a way.

It wasn’t until recently I learned that phoenixes always burn themselves out, agents of their own demise.

“I’m sorry. Perilli believed knowledge worth having should be earned,” Cain says. “I can tell you more if you find the Prince.”

Staring back at Cain, I think: Of course, we have to pass some kind of test to be let inside the circle. It’s unclear whether this all smacks more of the occult or an actual cult, but I do know this: the most dangerous people on the planet can be the reverent, if properly armed and improperly motivated.