The Prophecy Con (Rogues of the Republic) (45 page)

Kail was already ambling toward the man, likely considering options regarding the man’s mother. “Diz, I’m guessing
forced burn
is something we should worry about.”

“I believe he intends to deliberately unbalance the energies that maintain all of Heaven’s Spire,” she said, and after hitting the pile of golem-crystals one more time for good measure, she moved in the Imperial man’s direction, Ghylspwr already spinning. “It would generate an incredible amount of energy, but there’s a very good chance it would also flash-fry every living thing in the city.”

“Correct.” The Imperial man raised his ax into a guard.

“You’re willing to kill everyone here?” Pyvic asked. “Even your own people?”

The Imperial bodyguard lifted his free hand to his helmet and pulled up the visor, and Pyvic looked at what now only vaguely resembled a face.

The ceiling burst into shimmering red radiance as thousands of crystals fell free, falling to the floor between the Imperial man, or rather, the ax animating the obviously dead body of the Imperial man, and them. They landed in a pile of glowing red and rose in the form of a dozen armored golems wielding great jagged spikes of black crystal.

“I am Arikayurichi, the Bringer of Order, and
my people
are waiting to return to this world,” said the ax. “Does it look like I care what happens to a few sacks of skin along the way?”

Twenty-Two

T
HREE HANDS LATER
, Ululenia’s voice echoed quietly in Loch’s mind.
The elf scratches at the ground for scraps. The Imperial holds only two pair, while the poet carries three nines.

Loch, sitting on one hidden knave, one open knave, and a knave in the shared cards, nodded ever so slightly.

“I shall raise twenty thousand,” Irrethelathlialann said.

“On that?” Veiled Lightning said, looking down at the pair of sixes she had showing. “I think not. Call.”

“I’m in.” Loch slid most of the rest of her chips in.

“As am I,” said Helianthia, and did the same.

The dealer pursed his lips and flipped out the next shared card. “Seven of palms, no help there.”

Irrethelathlialann shrugged. “Check.”

Veiled Lightning raised an eyebrow. “I thought you could see all the cards. You bragged about it quite explicitly. Raise thirty thousand.” She slid most of her chips in.

Loch looked at her stack. “I seem to be a little shy.”

“I would accuse you of many things, Isafesira,” Veiled Lightning said, smiling, “but shyness is not among them.”

Loch slid the last of her chips into the pot. “All in. And if you win, I will use my own funds to purchase the Nine-Ringed Dragon back from the elves and return it to you.”

“I am not entirely certain that is legal, given how short you are,” the dealer said.

“I beg your pardon,” Veiled Lightning interrupted him, and turned to Loch. “Before . . . you said that you ran away to join the Republic’s army.”

Loch nodded. “Yes.”

Veiled Lightning frowned. “Why did you tell me that? Was that your way of warning me off? If I acted like you had, I would end up a criminal, disgracing my family’s name?”

Loch laughed. It was a laugh with some hurt in it—dead parents and a sister who’d gone wrong in a lot of ways would do that—but it was a laugh nevertheless. “Honestly, Princess, it probably should have been . . . but no.” She nodded across the table. “I told you that out of respect. I get what you’re trying to do.”

Veiled Lightning smiled. “Is there any chance you’d be willing to surrender, then?”

Loch smiled back. “I didn’t say you were right. When this is over, win or lose, check your bodyguard’s story.”

“I may do that. You may even question him yourself, as you will be there with me in chains.” Veiled Lightning turned to the dealer. “I accept her offer as covering the difference.”

“I call as well,” Helianthia said, pushing her chips into the pot.

“Fold.” Irrethelathlialann lowered his cards, still smiling.

“Problem?” Loch asked him.

“Even I cannot simply make the cards I need appear on demand,” he said. “But this was an easy way to take most of you out of the action. Fewer spots at the table, you see.”

The dealer flipped out the last shared card, a nine of swords. Loch’s smile froze.

“Rather than complicate this further,” Veiled Lightning said, “I will check.”

Loch smiled, nodded, and looked from her to Helianthia, the elven poet now sitting on
four
nines.

She looked back at Loch, her face inscrutable behind the golden spectacles. “You answered a question from the Imperial princess. Would you be willing to answer one from me?”

Loch looked at her. “Of course.”

Helianthia smiled, the expression genuinely warm without giving away anything. “Do you truly believe that you can best Irrethelathlialann?”

“I do,” Loch said.

Irrethelathlialann shook his head, his nose twitching in silent laughter.

“In that case,” Helianthia said, “I fold.”

“You
what
?” Irrethelathlialann shot from his seat. “You’re sitting on—”

“Dealer,” Helianthia said, “am I within my rights to fold?”

“You are,” the dealer said solemnly.

“Then I do.”

“You would endanger the Elflands!” Irrethelathlialann pointed at her with a shaking finger.

“Dealer,” Loch said, “how long is Ethel allowed to be out of his seat before he’s considered to be forfeiting his place at the table?”

Irrethelathlialann sat down abruptly, glaring at her, his face flushed deep green and the crystals in his cheeks sparkling. He turned back to Helianthia. “You made a foolish mistake and a wise enemy this day, poet. Remember it well.”

The room went silent. Several people gasped.

The elves do not use the imperative,
Ululenia said in Loch’s mind.
It is considered unspeakably offensive
.

“You have either been too long outside our borders,” Helianthia said evenly, “or you have let your crystal trinkets steal your soul one time too many.” She pulled her spectacles from her face, and Loch saw that her eyes shone with tears. “You have forgotten who you are, and you speak to me as a master to a slave. I unspeak you.” She stood from the table and turned to Loch. “I hope that you play well,” she said, and cut through the crowd.

“The poet folds. Imperial and Urujar, I give you the last card.” The dealer flipped it out. “Nothing there. If you are ready to show your cards?”

“How do you intend to pay for the Nine-Ringed Dragon?” Veiled Lightning asked, turning over her cards.

“With my winnings, presumably.” Loch showed her hidden cards and watched as Veiled Lightning’s face went slack.

She recovered quickly, though, swallowed with a jerky nod, and left the table without another word.

Irrethelathlialann smiled at Loch. “Well, you outplayed her, at least. Helianthia you got out of pity.”

“I thought I got her thanks to that mouth of yours,” Loch said, pulling the chips her way.

The dealer took what was left from Veiled Lightning and Helianthia’s stacks. “Since neither of the ladies had enough to make the initial ante, their chips enter the pot general. Dragon’s man, Urujar—if you are ready?”

He flipped out the cards. “Seven of swords and three of palms showing for the Dragon, six and nine of crystals for the Urujar. The flop shows seven of crystals and king of wands. Urujar, the first bet is yours.”

Irrethelathlialann looked at his hidden cards and smiled, and Ululenia’s voice whispered in Loch’s head.

As the hunting cat flares her fur to make herself large to her rivals, the elf intends to bluff a concordance. For now, he holds only a pair of sevens.

Loch looked at her hidden cards. Eight of crystals, king of palms. “No trades. Let’s start with ten thousand.”

“Isafesira de Lochenville, you’ll need to do more than that to get my attention. See ten and raise fifty.”

“Call.”

The dealer nodded and flipped out the next shared card. “Two of wands.”

“Check.” Loch put her cards down.

“Oh,
that
isn’t the straight you were hoping for,” Irrethelathlialann said, grinning. “Raise another fifty.”

He still holds only the pair of sevens,
Ululenia said.

“Right. Call. Something funny?” she added as the elf chuckled.

“I’ll tell you in a moment,” he said.

The dealer flipped out the fourth and final shared card. “Four of crystals.”

“Oh, dear.” Irrethelathlialann clucked his tongue. “
That
doesn’t make a straight very likely for you at
all.”

“About as likely as your concordance,” Loch said. “Raise fifty.”

“See that,” he shot back, “and raise . . .” He looked down at his chips. “I’ll tell you what. You seem very confident. I
could
take most of your chips now, and then spend two or three more hands whittling you down to an embarrassing final defeat . . .” He leaned forward. “But that would delay taking you into custody and removing you to what is soon to be the war-wracked wasteland of your country. So what would you say to this?” He slid the entirety of his chips across the table. “One hand.”

He is certain you will flinch, Little One.

“Works for me,” Loch said, and slid all of her own chips into match him.

“Boldly played,” Irrethelathlialann said, glancing over at the dealer. “You were far more challenging than most humans I’ve ever encountered . . . Little One.”

Loch went very still.

“Oh, that’s right.” Irrethelathlialann snapped his fingers. “I said I’d tell you what I found so funny. You see, do you remember when you asked me where my fairy-creature friend went? Skoreinis? He’s quite gifted as both a mind reader
and
a shapeshifter. Much like your unicorn.” He smiled over at Ululenia. “In fact, almost
exactly
like your unicorn.”

Ululenia smiled back, sauntered over to the table, and sat down on Irrethelathlialann’s leg.

Loch looked from him to her. “Where is Ululenia?”

“Like the little white deer when the ravens are done feasting,” the thing that looked like Ululenia said, “I think it’s fair to say that there’s a bit of her inside all of us.” She smiled sweetly. “Some of us more than others.”

Dairy broke out of the crowd, fists raised, and instantly, a pair of ruby-red blades were crossed before him. “I’ll kill you!”

“You’re welcome to try, boy,” Irrethelathlialann said, and nuzzled the neck of woman on his lap as he flipped over his cards. “Concordance. Although my
three
sevens would still handily beat the pair of kings you hold, I believe.”

He reached out to sweep the chips in.

Loch’s hand closed on his wrist.

“I haven’t shown my hidden cards yet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my mistake.” He shook his hand from her grasp and drew it back, then gestured for her to proceed.

“Dealer,” Loch said, “as I recall, your exact words when I sat down at this table were, ‘We crossed over into the Elflands, which means we’re playing by elven rules.’ Is that correct?”

“It is, ma’am.” He raised an eyebrow. “You going anywhere in particular with this? I don’t like the soulless bastard any more than you do, but he does appear to have won.”

“By your wording, then, we are only playing by elven rules because we are in the Elflands.” Loch looked to the crowd. “Is Captain Thelenea present? Is there any chance that she could do me the enormous favor of confirming the current position of this ship?”

Irrethelathlialann froze. “You’re bluffing.”

Captain Thelenea cut through the crowd. “Urujar, if you have done something to my ship . . .”

“I apologize sincerely for the unfortunate necessity,” Loch said.

The elven woman cut her a look, then murmured into what looked like a pea-pod curled around her wrist.

Irrethelathlialann shook his head. “This tournament was started under elven rules, which means—”

“Absolutely nothing,” Loch said, drawing the card upon which the tournament rules were printed. “And in the absence of that, we have only what the dealer said, which clearly says elven territory, elven rules. And by inference—and if you want to take back the crystal ring around my unicorn’s throat to think this over more carefully, you are more than welcome to do so—if we
aren’t
in elven territory, then we
aren’t
playing by elven rules.”

“Someone has evidently tampered with security and navigation,” Captain Thelenea said coldly, drawing her blade. “The former to allow covert mindspeaking, presumably to cheat at cards, and the latter to place an illusion over our course heading. My helmsman has evidently been accidentally steering us a few degrees off for the past hour or so to compensate for drift that was not actually present except on the helm display, and we crossed into Imperial airspace several minutes ago.”

“You don’t say.” Loch grinned. The plan had been to actually turn the ship, not fake it with an illusion, but it appeared to have worked nevertheless.

Irrethelathlialann looked from Loch to the captain to the woman sitting in his lap. “But you can’t . . . Skoreinis, you would have—”

“Skoreinis was a mighty warrior,” Ululenia said as she stood, “and a part of him lives on inside all of us.” She smiled down at Irrethelathlialann. “Some more than others.”

Dairy took a very small step backward.

“I still have three kings,” Irrethelathlialann said, staring at Loch’s hidden cards on the table. “And you never got that straight.”

“Correct.” Loch turned over her hidden cards. “I believe that here in human lands, we refer to what I have as a flush. That’s just a bit higher.”

“You cheating . . .”

“Winner.” Loch pulled the chips in, even as Captain Thelenea brought her blade to Loch’s throat. She ignored it. Paying attention to the sword at her throat would cause complications she didn’t need right now. “The word you’re looking for is
winner,
Ethel.”

A very large, very solid hand clapped down on Irrethelathlialann’s shoulder, and the elf looked up at the tall red-bearded man who had—despite all logic to the contrary—approached without Loch noticing.

Mister Dragon looked at her, and she
definitely
noticed him now. There might have been no one else in the room, for all the weight of his attention. It made him seem very big, and Loch very small.