Once we were far enough away from the inn to be sure we weren’t followed, Chase and I filled Logan and Cleo in on what happened with Cain and the Prince of Wands. Well, Chase mostly did. I could still feel the emotions and the nerves rattling my veins, jumbling everything. I didn’t actually speak much, but I figured Chase had already taken it upon himself to act on my behalf…

After that, Charvan fell eerily silent. It was like we were all drains, opened and emptied. The only conversation we had was agreeing to drive all night to our next destination, in case any Wanderers picked up our trail. This pointed us toward Solvang, a tourist town near where Anwar moved. I then pulled my phone out of the shoebox to check the location of the shop Cain mentioned, Azure Tarot, the supposed hub of Perillian knowledge. One quick search confirmed Azure Tarot is located in Summerland, a town just south of Solvang.

This new town sounded familiar to us, so we rechecked the coordinates for the next missing card, the Princess of Cups. Sure enough, we pinpointed its location off the coast of Summerland, on the chain of Channel Islands. Those islands are supposed to be uninhabited, but this was another mystery we filed away for later. For that moment, it was enough to know our next steps all converged in one place.

I knew we should keep talking about what happened, but I just felt so exhausted. I kept trying to process things, but every time I grabbed hold of anything, my thoughts seemed to evaporate. I knew I was in no condition to talk to Chase about the choice he took from me.

Everyone must have felt the same way, because our silence stretched deep into the midnight drive. Chase and Cleo eventually managed to doze off while Logan drove, fueled by podcasts and gas station coffee. But I certainly didn’t doze. Residual adrenaline supercharged my limbs, making my heart pound long after our departure. I tried to tell myself that this was normal, at least for me. That it was just my fight-or-flight reactions lighting up long after they were actually necessary.

Still, I spent much of the drive warding off a panic attack with breathing exercises, pulling my hand away from my hair every time I began twirling strands. I learned the hard way that tugging at my hair was one of my automatic coping mechanisms. To their credit, both Cleo and Chase woke up at some point and checked to make sure I was okay, knowing the deal with my panic disorder. But I just nodded at them both—there wasn’t much anyone could do once I got like this.