by Laura Powell
There was a slightly breathless pause as they took in the steepness of the steps, and the darkness of the waiting shadows below. Toby was the first to recover. “Can I go first?” he asked.
It must be his every dream come true, thought Cat as she went after him. Hidden chambers and secret passages. Dungeons and dragons …! Then there was a click from behind, and the stairwell plunged into blackness. Flora had locked the door behind them.
“Are you crazy?” Cat hissed. “Now we can’t see a thing!”
“I’d just prefer to reduce the possibility of anyone creeping up behind us,” Flora replied. “We’ll have to feel our way. Unless … Toby, what about your flashlight?”
“Er, back on my bedside table. Sorry.”
They shuffled on down the steps. And down, and down, and farther down again. Though the walls pressing on either side were cool and smooth, Cat’s heart banged hotly against her ribs. She soon lost track of how many floors they must have passed. It seemed as if the blindness would last forever, a descent without end.
But at last the black turned to gray, grew softer and warmer, until they stumbled out into a lit room. The floor was checkered black and white; the walls were woodpaneled and set with alcoves where old-fashioned oil lamps burned. On the wall to their right was a large gilt frame that reminded Cat of the paintings in the gallery upstairs; its canvas, however, was so dark with age or grime that it was impossible to tell what was depicted.
The only furniture in the room was a circular table covered with green felt, displaying a triangular die, and a card with four more cards set around its corners. The faces of the die were blank, and the five cards were similarly featureless, both sides patterned with a design of interlocking wheels. It was as if, thought Cat uneasily, they were waiting for a game that hadn’t yet been made, let alone begun. Across from the stairs was an archway hung with a curtain of gold brocade; the lettering above read regnabo, regno, regnavi, sum sine regno.
“I shall reign, I reign, I have reigned, I am without reign,” Flora said. “It’s the inscription around the spokes of Fortune’s Wheel.” Unlike the other two, she showed no outward sign of nerves, or even much curiosity about their surroundings. Instead, she waited by the archway, impatient to be moving on.
When they drew back the curtain, they saw how far down they had come. They were below even the foundations of Temple House, among roots of ancient stone. Through low arches and squat pillars, a maze of chambers lay before them, lit by more oil lamps set in alcoves along the walls. A faint scent, as of incense, sweetened the air.
“We must be in some kind of crypt,” Toby marveled. “Come to think of it, we’ve already had werewolves, so we’re probably due a vampire or two. Or a mummy.…”
“Oh, drop the melodrama.” Cat was damned if she’d let Toby get to her. “If it was a crypt, there’d be inscriptions. Tombstones. Bimbos in black leather doing kung fu and waving crucifixes.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“This is a sacred place,” said Flora quietly. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Yes! It’s like that Mithraic temple they excavated under the City.” Toby was determined not to be outdone. “I read a book about it once. The ancients built it underground for secret rites. Maybe we’re going to meet a pagan god!”
“Yeah, and maybe we’ll have to offer you up as a blood sacrifice.” But in spite of her flippant words, Cat was wondering who had lit the lamps and put the cards on the table. There was no sign of dust—someone must have been here—yet she had the feeling this place had lain undisturbed for a long, long time.
They moved on, slowly and cautiously, among crude columns and under shadowy vaults, following the path lit by the lamps, until at last they came to a circular chamber with a high domed roof. In the center of the room a tree was growing. At the end of one of its branches was a noose, from which hung the motionless body of a man.
All three drew in their breath. The tree sprang strong and green from the bare stone. Its glossy leaves were rustling, although there was no breeze here in the depths of the earth, and the flame in the lamps burned straight. The limp body weighed down its branch like some kind of monstrous fruit.
Then the man opened his eyes and smiled. “Ave Fortuna, Imperatrix Mundi!”
Cat tasted blood. Without realizing it, she’d bitten hard into her lip. Beside her, Flora was rigid as a statue. Even Toby was, for once, lost for words.
“Do not be afraid,” the man said, his voice as peaceful as his smile. “I can do you no harm.”
After the initial shock, Cat realized that although his body hung unsupported from the cord around his neck, some invisible force must be holding him up. He was suspended in the air, as if weightless, about three feet off the ground.
The eyes that regarded them were astonishingly wide and a vivid blue, set in a gentle, childlike face. His skin was drained of all color, and his hair, which came down to his shoulders, was neither the blond of youth nor the white of age, but something in between. His clothes were plain black, of indeterminate style, and his hands were bound behind his back.
Toby had recovered the power of speech. “Er … shouldn’t you be upside down, like on the card?”
Now the man looked amused. “Since the Triumph of the Hanged Man was first created, my fate has known many representations.” He sighed, and the tree’s leaves murmured as if in response; in the dim light of the chamber they had acquired a coppery tint. His eyes shone innocent and blue. “Would you like to know,” he said softly, “how the Game of Triumphs came to be?”
“THERE WAS A CITY,” he began. “Long, long ago, like in the fairy tales—though it was real enough. A city of art and power and learning, much of which has been lost. And each year, on its great festival day, the city held a lottery, when the people would pay to receive a token. Most of these tokens were blank, but a number of them could be exchanged for prizes. Some of these were practical and others decorative, but a few were precious.
“Many citizens played this lottery, but the leisured classes did not, considering it beneath them. Until one year, the authorities decided to introduce something different. The four leading guilds within the city, the ones who administered the lottery, announced that they were going to include penalties among the prizes. Just a few. Small fines or trials, to be performed in honor of the gods. And to their surprise, subscription to the lottery doubled. To play now required an element of daring and so became a matter of prestige.
“The next year, the lottery was not open to all. Invitations were issued at random. The rewards were more glittering, the penalties more dangerous. As a result, the guilds were obliged to form an order whose purpose was to enforce the fulfillment of the lots, and give worship to the goddess Fortune and her Wheel.
“And with time, the workings of the lottery—or Game, as it was now called—grew yet more elaborate. The heads of the four guilds met in secret for its operation. The symbols on the lots became so complex it was no longer clear what was a penalty and what was a prize, for their making was steeped in mystery. So too was the fulfillment of the fates decreed. Over the years, it was rumored that the gods themselves took their chance in the Game, or that in joining it you could walk through men’s dreams and see into other worlds.
“More time passed, and the power within the city shifted away from the guilds. The old religion, too. Some people began to say the Game had become a shameful thing and a wickedness. It ceased to be spoken of, though it was still played.
“Until at last there came the day when the city fell to its enemies. There was great destruction, and most people assumed the Game had perished also. But, somehow, something survived. The symbols devised by its first makers began to appear in different forms—in decks of playing cards, in poetry and prophecy, things sacred and profane. It was whispered that the Game had found new cities and new players ready to venture all.”
There was a long silence. In the time he had been speaking, the tree’s green had changed to brittle bro
wn and gold, and now the first leaf fell, quivering, through the air.
Toby swallowed nervously. “But—but if you were there when the Game began, then, er, why are you down here?”
“I was once a priest of Fortune; I studied her mysteries and worshipped her Wheel. I created many of the moves within the Game. But when the four guilds grew into mighty courts, and sought control over all players, I opposed them. And so the first Game Masters used trickery to imprison me.” He smiled his gentle smile. “My triumph is never sought as a prize. Indeed, it has few enticements. Do you know, though, what it signifies?”
Cat tried to visualize the Hanged Man’s card in a Tarot deck, and the things she’d read. Toby, though, was ahead of her. “Knowledge through suffering,” he said. “Sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice, yes … but not a willing one. For as long as the kings and queens have me as their prisoner, their domination of the Game is complete.”
Since entering the chamber, Flora hadn’t taken her eyes off the man’s face. “So if we were to set you free—”
“We can’t intervene, though,” Cat cut in. “We’re powerless.”
The Hanged Man laughed softly. “Not so. Accidentals and blunderers you may be, yet the Fool is the agent of Fortuna, Imperatrix Mundi, who presides over all. Her laws are the Arcanum’s laws; all other rules are lesser, and false. That is why the four Masters have no choice but to open the Arcanum for you and guide you to the Game. They know the Fool is as integral to its workings as the Wheel, for you too may change the course of a move, shaping a court’s luck and a player’s destiny.”
“But only by paying the forfeit,” Cat insisted. “By being taken as knaves.”
“It was not always so, nor need it be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that my freedom would lead to the freedom of greater and lesser alike.”
The three chancers exchanged glances.
“The Game has been corrupted by its Masters. You will have seen how the kings and queens scheme among themselves, hoarding the cards, concerned only with their own winnings. They treat the pains of their knights as a frivolous thing, as if players and playing board alike are toys for their amusement.”
The Hanged Man sighed. It seemed his strength was waning with every leaf that fell from the tree.
“The Game I helped create was a thing of joy, and liberty. The players only had to play a single card to win their prize, and were free to move through the Arcanum as they chose. There were no boundaries or forfeits or interventions then, no hierarchy of players.
“If I was free and the rule of the courts overthrown, the Game Masters would be compelled to release their triumphs so that anyone in the Game might play for them. Every card would be free to turn, every die to roll, and every move to be completed. There would be prizes for all.”
“Not everyone in the Game is after a triumph,” said Flora slowly.
“No, indeed.” The man fixed his shining eyes upon them. “There are many hopes sought in the Arcanum. Even the Game Masters are in search of a greater victory, though they search in vain. With the right card for the right venture … why, even a fool could play to win.”
“Tell us how to release you,” said Toby. His voice was strained. It was obvious that they could no more untie him from the tree than pull down the pillar of stone at their backs. The very air they breathed was steeped in the power of the Arcanum.
“Whether by an accident of luck or the design of fate, the key to my tomb is only found when a Suite of Fools has entered play.” He sounded profoundly weary. “Where, then, is the fourth?”
“I—we—we don’t know.”
The floor of the chamber was now a carpet of dead leaves that, even as they watched, turned to filigree and dust. It seemed the man’s voice had grown dustier also, his skin like ash. “You must find him. A Fool for every court and a court for every Fool …,” he murmured. “Four throws of the die will open your way. My sacrifice is the Twelfth, but my deliverance shall be by the First. When the First of the Greater gives you the Firsts of the Lesser, then I may be set … set free.…” His voice faded away as his head sank down onto his chest. The last leaf had fallen from the now-barren tree.
As they left the chamber, its spindly branches were silvered in frost.
Their next move was waiting for them in the room with the golden curtain. The card in the center of the table, which had formerly shown no illustration, was now the Triumph of the Magician. Perhaps the Hanged Man still retained some limited powers, or perhaps forces within the Game itself had worked the change. Cat did not want to believe that Fate had much influence on the ordinary world, but the Arcanum’s destiny might be a different matter.
The four cards laid out around the Magician had kept their abstract patterning. The chancers went to turn them over, just in case an illustration lay on the other side. As they did so, the motif of wheels merged, reshaping into color and form. Cat gasped as the Triumph of Justice appeared before her eyes. But the next moment, the picture began to fade into blankness, and she let out a groan. Across the table, Flora and Toby also stared with dismay at their vanishing prizes.
To be so close—! Yet Cat wasn’t despairing. What had once been a faint hope was now a promise. There would be prizes for all … even a fool could play to win.…
Cat would complete the task and win her prize. They all would. She had not glimpsed the images on Toby’s and Flora’s cards, but as they tucked the precious cards away, their faces showed the same strength of purpose as hers.
The fourth card remained featureless. “The other chancer’s reward,” Cat murmured. She slipped it into her jacket, next to her own card, while Flora took the Magician and Toby the blank-faced die. Then they began the long climb up the stairs, and back to the everyday world. They hardly dared speak until they got back to Flora’s house.
According to the clock in the drawing room, only half an hour had passed.
“Whew,” said Toby, flopping down on the nearest armchair. “It looks as if we’ve got ourselves a quest.”
“Or a wild-goose chase,” said Cat, though she didn’t mean it. Hope surged in her heart. “Let’s have another look at the Magician.”
They moved under the light to inspect the card. A man in red and white robes stood over a table displaying the symbols of the courts. His right hand raised a staff toward the sky; his left pointed toward the earth, where roses and lilies were entwined. The top of the card was marked I.
“Our job’s clear,” said Flora. “The Hanged Man’s the twelfth triumph, and he said his ‘deliverance’ will come from the first. That’s this card: Thoth, the mage and magician. So we need to enter the Magician’s move and ask for help.”
“Yeah, and then we’ll have aces, too,” said Toby.
“Aces?” Cat repeated.
“They’re the first cards of the Lesser Arcana, of course. When the First of the Greater gives you the Firsts of the Lesser, then I’ll be set free. So the Magician will give us the powers of earth, air, fire and water—the perfect weapons for a prison break! The Hanged Man’ll be out in no time.”
Cat bit her lip. “But I still don’t see how we can get involved in the Game without paying the forfeit. We’ll end up as knaves.”
“The forfeit only applies if we interfere in another player’s move,” said Flora impatiently. “But we’ll be playing our own card. A card that hasn’t been dealt by any of the kings or queens. And once we’ve released the Hanged Man, everyone will be set free. Any chancer, knight or knave will be able to walk through the Arcanum and win a prize, and there won’t be any stupid rules to stop them.” Her face was alight with longing.
Toby had turned his attention to the unmarked die. It was a pyramid with four triangular faces, and made of the same gleaming dark metal as the Arcanum coins. “Four throws of the die will open your way … This must be to create a threshold for our move.” He threw the die up in the air, nearly fumbling the catch. “Gotcha!” With a flourish, he
showed it to the others. One of the sides was now printed with a little silver zero, the sign of a Fool. Toby immediately tried again, but did not produce any further transformation.
“Here, let me.” Flora took it from Toby’s unwilling hand. “Oh!” she exclaimed, as a second side revealed another zero. “Go on, Cat—it’s your turn.”
A third throw, and a third side revealed its marking. But no matter how many times they passed the die round, the fourth face remained blank.
“It’s probably just as well,” said Flora. “I don’t much like the idea of having a threshold to the Arcanum in our drawing room.”
“We need the missing chancer,” said Toby gloomily. “The Hanged Man said there should be a Fool for every court, remember? The die won’t work because we need four chancers for our quest. But tracking him down could take months.”
“Not … necessarily,” said Cat.
“What are you saying?” Flora asked sharply. “Do you know this person? Or how to find them?”
Cat waited before she replied. There had been something niggling at the back of her mind and now she wanted to set it straight. “I think so. Maybe. First, though, I want to know why you didn’t tell us you’d already tried the key.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I was watching you during our trip to the crypt. You seemed quite at home in that room with the card table. Almost as if you’d been there before.”
For a moment, it looked as if Flora would tough it out. Then she seemed to think better of it. She even gave an embarrassed sort of shrug. “All right,” she said. “Yesterday I went to Temple House by myself and tried the key in the door.”
Cat folded her arms across her chest. “And then what?”
“I went down the stairs and into the little room. But the cards on the table—well, they were different. Four Fool cards, one at each corner of the Triumph of the Moon. Then I thought back to the other person we saw in the move, and the coin coming up with a zero, and I realized that this wasn’t something I should be doing on my own. When the Arcanum gives you a sign, you’d better listen to it.” She gave a slightly shaky laugh. “In the end, I didn’t even look past the curtain. I went straight back up the stairs, and decided to come back only after I’d found you two.”
