Ryber nodded, and with an arm to keep Stix steady, she guided Stix down to the limestone bowels of the Ring. The dank halls carved a honeycomb beneath the main arena. Firewitched lanterns mingled with smoky torches, and none of the tunnels were straight or flat. Every ten steps or so, rats skittered in their path. Icy water dripped off the stone ceilings onto their heads, until eventually they reached a fork in the main path.

Instead of cutting right toward the subterranean carriage entrance, Ryber hauled Stix left, toward the prisoners Stix didn’t think she could stomach seeing. It was bad enough watching them die in the Ring by lion claws or crocodile fangs, but to have to see them in their cells? To see so many faces and know she could do nothing, that their fates belonged to Kahina and the other Masters of the Ring? Stix feared she might destroy the arena and every raider in it.

Maybe you should, her heart nudged. Maybe that is what you are here to do.

But what if it isn’t? she countered. What if I destroy it and then the voices never leave?

Her heart had no time to argue before Ryber towed Stix into an alcove littered with rat droppings. Hidden it certainly was, but filthy too.

“What happened?” Ryber asked, and Stix shoved aside thoughts of the prisoners. In broad strokes, she sketched out what Kahina had said—as well as the memory she’d seen inside the Ring.

Ryber’s face dragged long with horror. “You think she is this Paladin called Lovats?”

“Who else can she be?” Stix attempted a shrug, but her burned shoulder barked in protest.

Not that Ryber noticed. Her attention had already been claimed by a deck of taro cards freshly plucked from her pocket. Some had torn edges, some were creased and frayed. But that didn’t matter to Ryber, who handled them with the tenderness of a mother. She drew them for everything—to learn tomorrow’s weather, to be ready for today’s surprises, and to answer whatever big questions might come her way.

She flipped over three cards. “The Queen of Hawks,” Ryber said, handing the first to Stix. “The Queen of Foxes and the Giant.” She handed off those two as well, and Stix held the cards toward the dim light from the main hall.

On the Queen of Hawks was a flame hawk fanned orange and yellow across the paper, an iron crown hovering at its heart. The Queen of Foxes was similar, but a sea fox coiled around a golden crown with starfish points—a crown that was eerily similar to Vivia’s actual crown. And on the Giant card was a snow capped mountain silhouetted against a starry sky.

“What question did you ask?” Stix returned the cards to Ryber, only to find the other girl massaging her temples.