by Emma Fenton
***
It was either a stroke of pure genius or Ria was going to get herself killed a full ten days early and save Jaya the trouble. Right now, she was leaning towards the latter. What do I really have to lose? Well, other than her life, but that was going to be on the chopping block soon enough, so risks like this didn’t really matter anymore. She pulled her navy-blue cloak tight around her, hood up so as to disguise her face. Where she was going, it was likely that no one would suspect she was a princess, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
Sneaking out of the castle—and likewise, sneaking in—was only difficult if you weren’t intimately aware of the workings of the palace or how the guard schedules worked. Ria slipped out into the courtyard at dusk when food suppliers and other non-essential personnel left the palace for the day. It was mayhem. Many of the kitchen-staff and toilet-maids lived just outside the palace walls. It was easy for Ria to fall in line with these women. They took no notice of her as they talked with their friends, and though Ria’s cloak was of a finer material than the others around her, the guards remained ignorant of her passing through the gates. They rarely looked closely at who left the palace.
Ria made her way down to the docks with little fanfare. The Thaw had made the air warmer than usual, but the ocean breeze was brisk, and no one looked twice at the girl who kept the hood of her cloak pulled close around her face. It worked to her benefit, for even when she passed a few off-duty palace guards, they passed by her as if she were just another commoner.
The sunset was beautiful over the water, casting a golden-orange glow over the waves and the ships. Tomorrow morning, your ship departs. She hadn’t changed her mind, though. Leaving Helhath to live a stranger’s life as Ebele Tahan…it wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to die, and the idea of just disappearing off to safety was appealing, but what kind of life awaited her there? She knew nothing about Sir Jameson. She knew very little about Etheri. And she knew for certain that running only postponed the inevitable. One way or another, she would have to fight Jaya whether it was ten days from now or ten years.
Ria followed the path that she and the Elder Scholar had taken all those weeks ago. It was strange to see the disgusting tavern again. The last time she’d been to The Sunken Reef, her parents were still alive, Mikhael still wanted her, and Ria had been terrified of even stepping inside the place. This time she walked in with the confidence of a woman who had hit rock bottom and had nowhere to go but up.
Still, she didn’t let out a quiet sigh of relief until she saw the man she was looking for lounging there in the corner exactly like last time. Siraj. He was as tanned and gorgeous as before, mischievous grin firmly in place as he dragged his hand through his hair. He was the center of attention once again, dealing cards so quickly she marveled at how they never once slipped beyond his control. It was good that he was here. She hadn’t been sure if he frequented this place, or if it had been a one-off thing for his meeting with Master Ameer. It appeared her instincts were correct.
She approached Siraj’s table, carefully stepping around a slosh of vomit and urine on the floor. Ria was watching him closely from behind her cloak, which was the only reason she knew that he’d seen her. Outwardly, he looked as relaxed as before, but his eyes darted to her every seven seconds and his right hand twitched, like it was aching to reach for his weapon.
She’d have to be careful about this.
“You lost, girlie?”
Ria jerked at the weight of a hand on her arm. The man who had been so presumptuous as to touch her was sitting at Siraj’s table. His eyes were light gray and wide with what Ria could only assume was madness, his chapped lips spread thin over a rotting smile. A pink tongue smoothed over his teeth as he eyed her from head to toe. She tried to pull away from him, but the man’s grip was iron.
“It’s jus’ I don’t think I seen you ‘round ‘fore,” he continued, either oblivious or uncaring of Ria’s discomfort. “An’ I’d remember a girl like you.”
“That’s enough, Switch.” Siraj’s voice cut through the tavern like a steel blade. His eyes darted to Ria, and she thought she saw a flash of anger before his charming mask was back in place. “Are we here to play cards or not?”
The man called Switch gave Ria another once over before grunting irritably and returning his focus to the table. She rubbed absently at her arm where he’d grabbed her. There’d be a bruise there tomorrow. Siraj’s eyes flashed back up to Ria and he rolled them.
“Have a seat.” He gestured at the empty space next to Switch.
She scowled. “I’m here on business.”
“Me, too.” He met her gaze unflinchingly. “You want to talk, you play the game. Now sit.”
Seeing that she’d get absolutely nowhere otherwise, Ria took a seat on the strangely damp stool next to Switch and tried not to think about why the seat might be empty. There were four of them at the table in total: Ria, Switch, Siraj, and a half-sleeping woman who looked about as ancient as Vili.
“You familiar with Dead Man Draw?” Siraj asked, fingers once again gliding over the deck in his hands.
Ria nodded. There were two types of cards: number cards and face cards. Of the face cards, there were three witches, three demons, and one Dead Man. You never wanted to end up with the Dead Man.
It was a game based on lies. You played your cards face down and said aloud what you’d discarded. Other players would decide if you were lying or not. If you got caught lying, you picked up every card on the table. If you got accused of lying, but weren’t, the other person took the cards. The game ended whenever someone got caught playing the Dead Man. She’d tried to teach it to Mikhael once, but he’d never taken to it, claiming that there was no strategy.
“You’re just trading cards,” he’d complained. “It’s all guesswork. Luck. You find this fun?”
Ria knew better. There were a set number of cards in every deck and you always knew what was in your original hand. If you had a quick eye and sharp mind, you could keep count of which cards had been played and calculate the odds of the others being traded your way.
But more than counting cards, it was about reading the people you played with. Some would get rid of the high-point cards immediately, so they wouldn’t have to risk ending the game with a demon or a Dead Man in their hand. Some would hold onto those cards until the very end so that they could trap people into thinking they were lying when they weren’t. It wasn’t just luck. It was knowing your enemy. That’s why the Elder Scholar had taught her the game to begin with and also why he refused to play with her anymore. They knew each other’s tells too well.
“The buy-in is ten-piece. If you’ve got the money kid, you can talk about whatever business you want.” Siraj gave her a shark-like smile. “Are you in?”
Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s not scarier than Jaya. She merely raised a brow and slid the small gold coin onto the table. That’s it. Just pretend you have every right to be here.
Siraj dealt the hand. Ria peered at her five cards, careful to keep her face neutral. Not a bad hand, but not as good as she’d like. To her right, Switch was trying not to smile and failing.
The game moved quickly. Switch, predictably, only traded away one card. The old woman, who looked like she might have been a witch, put in four cards herself, though whether that was strategy or because she had forgotten what game they were playing, Ria couldn’t tell. Siraj went next, and then it was her turn.
“Rumor has it you’re a fair fighter,” Ria said, speaking directly to Siraj. It was speculation, mostly. During her first visit to The Sunken Reef, Siraj had seemed dangerous, competent. She remembered, specifically, that he had a solid fighting stance.
Siraj snorted. “Nothing fair about it, kid.”
Ria slapped down her cards. “Two witches.”
“Tha’s a lie,” Switch said, air whistling between his teeth. A speck of saliva escaped from his mouth and landed on the table. He lurched forward, lifted the cards to peer under them, then grunt
ed and took the whole pile. Siraj leaned over and nudged the old woman with his elbow. She jolted, almost as if she’d fallen asleep somehow in between playing her card and now.
“The Wanderer,” the old woman croaked, sliding a card forward.
Siraj cocked a brow. “Greer, we’re playing Dead Man Draw, remember?”
“Oh.” Greer lifted her card, eyes straining to read whatever symbols it bore. “Well. That’s a three, then.”
They continued around the circle, laying down cards and picking them up again. Greer seemed to flit in and out of consciousness, though Ria noticed that the woman managed to wake up when the barmaid came by with a fresh pint of ale. Switch had about half the deck in his hand, and Ria suspected this round would be over soon.
She was right. Not a moment later, Switch played three cards, claiming they were sevens, and Siraj called him out on the lie. When he flipped the cards, sure enough, the Dead Man sat at the top of the pile.
“Tough luck,” Siraj said dryly as he scooped up his winnings, and while it might have been applicable to the whole table, his eyes and his smirk said his comment was aimed towards Ria.
“Again.” She stared him down.
“Eager to lose your money?” he asked, grinning. “You’ve come to the right place.”
They played four more rounds, out of which Siraj won three. Ria won once and only barely. By the fourth round, the old woman was definitely asleep, and even Switch was having difficulty keeping his eyes open.
“A fifth round?” Siraj suggested. Ria nodded, and he laughed. “Though we’ll have to stop soon. I feel like I’m practically robbing you.”
Ria only raised a brow. She wasn’t sure exactly how, but she knew Siraj was cheating. Nobody was this good at Dead Man Draw, especially not with strangers. He dealt the hand, this time skipping over the old woman.
“Two sevens,” Siraj said, starting them off.
Ria pushed a single card forward. “One nine.”
“And I’ve got, uh, three demons.” Switch fumbled with his cards, nearly dropping his entire hand as he tried to add the three cards to the stack.
“Liar,” Ria and Siraj said at the same time. Switch cursed under his breath and took the pile. And then the game started up again. After they’d each gone a few more times, Ria spoke up.
“I’ve got a proposition for you. A job.”
Siraj raised a brow. “I’m not cheap. Three eights.”
“I can pay.” Ria glanced down at her cards. “Three witches.”
“Lie,” he said almost lazily. Then he grinned. “And not if you keep losing at cards.”
Her lips twisted into a scowl as she grabbed the pile. It was heftier than the stack that Switch had had to pick up. Ria would have difficulty getting rid of all her cards first. Especially because now the Dead Man was sitting in her hand.
“It’s not a conventional sort of job,” Ria continued, ignoring the jab. “And you’d need to be discrete.”
Siraj laughed at that. “If you wanted discrete, kid, you shouldn’t have brought it up at a table full of strangers.”
“I don’t talk none to nobody,” Switch insisted, offended. The old woman let out a snore as if agreeing with him.
Siraj eyed the man for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s probably true.”
Switch nodded. “Tha’s right. I don’t say nothing. Two fours.”
“Three sixes.”
Ria slid two cards onto the table. The sooner she could get rid of the Dead Man, the better. “Two demons.”
Siraj grinned. “Lie.”
He flipped her cards over, revealing a demon and a dead man. Ria stared down at the table. How does he always know? How can he tell? The cards look exactly the same from the back.
“I guess we’re done here,” Siraj said as he gathered his profits from the table. He’d gotten quite the haul, somewhere around one-hundred-twenty-piece. The jangle of metal was enough to wake the old lady, and she and Switch slid off into the crowd.
“I’m not.” Ria stared him down, Siraj only rolled his eyes.
“Come on, kid. Haven’t you lost enough money tonight?”
She clenched her fist. “You haven’t considered my proposition.”
“You lost to me at a child’s game. I don’t do business with people who lose that badly.”
“You cheated,” she hissed. His eyes flashed, and then, quicker than the blink of an eye, there was a knife slammed through the table in the space between her second and third fingers.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, reaching over to push the hood of her cloak back. “Your highness.”
His voice was low enough that nobody else had heard him, but she yanked the hood back up anyway. “If you know who I am, then I’m sure you can guess why I’ve come.”
He looked at her impassively. “Your boat leaves tomorrow morning. Tell your uncle that my part in this is done.”
“You do remember me.” Ria hadn’t been sure. Siraj hadn’t given any indication the entire evening that he’d recognized her at all, and yet the way Master Ameer had spoken about him suggested that he wasn’t one to just forget someone potentially important.
“I never forget a face,” he replied in mock offense. “Especially not one I’m supposed to help smuggle out of the country.”
“As it turns out, that will not be necessary.” Ria stood taller, raised her chin, and tried her best to imitate Jaya’s presumptuous confidence. “I want you to teach me how to fight for the match against my sister.”
At this Siraj’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. “Little thing like you? Against that monstrosity? No offense to your sister. It’s just…if I had a year, I couldn’t teach you well enough to win, and I’m the best there is.”
“I’m a quick study,” Ria insisted. “I know I’ve got less than two weeks, but anything’s got to be better than nothing.”
He was shaking his head. “I’m not gonna have you waste your time on something that’s not really going to help you.”
“Please.” She knew she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care anymore. This was the backup plan for her backup plan. If Siraj wouldn’t help her, there was nothing left. “Please. Nobody else will even consider it. I know. I’ve tried.”
“Kid, I’m telling you, it’ll be a waste of time.”
Ria deflated.
Siraj eyed her for a moment, sighed, and then muttered something under his breath as he rolled his eyes towards the sky. He shook his head. “Gods you’re pitiful. Okay, look. You want to win, right?”
Ria’s brow furrowed. “Obviously.”
“First of all, don’t get smart with me when I’m trying to help you,” he said, rubbing his temples like he was trying to ward off a headache. “What are you willing to do to win?”
“Anything,” she said without hesitation. “Anything to not die.”
“Good. Smart.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “You have to play to your strengths. You’re not a fighter, but if Ameer likes you enough to try to get you out of the country, you’ve got to be clever. Think, princess. The only way you don’t die is if you kill your sister first. And the only way you’re ever going to best that absolute nightmare in physical combat is if you fight dirty. Stop trying to win things the honest way. You don’t have time for that.”
“Your miraculous advice is to cheat?”
He chuckled. “You’re good at Dead Man Draw. You’d have won most of those rounds if I wasn’t cheating. But in cards nobody cares if you almost win, and almost winning against your sister still makes you dead. In your case, you get to be either fair or alive, and I know which one I’d rather be.”
Ria knew which one she would choose too. Honor was for people who could afford it, and she was more than a little shortchanged right now.
“Thank you for the advice,” Ria said as she held out her hand. With some amusement, Siraj clasped hands with her and shook.
“Don’t die on me, now. I can’t hustle you out of your mon
ey if you’re dead.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you’d figure out a way.”
Ria turned on her heel, leaving Siraj laughing behind her. She ducked out of the tavern, grateful to be back in the fresh night air. It was cool on her skin even through her cloak, but she didn’t mind too much. It felt cleansing in a way. She wasn’t really any closer to defeating Jaya, but Siraj had given her a lot to think about. She was already leaning towards some kind of poison, though she wasn’t sure how she would administer it without Jaya knowing or without getting caught.
The docks were creepier at night. The glowing lanterns swayed in the ocean breeze and the shadows swayed with them. It was quiet except for the rush of the ocean and the boats as they bumped against the piers. It was peaceful, and had she been less fearful of the dark, she would have liked to sit there and feel the salt on her face. But there was still an instinctive fear that tugged at the back of her mind, that warned her of things that might be lurking in the shadows. She tried to push those thoughts down, though her feet carried her ever-faster toward the castle.
Getting back inside would be marginally more difficult than slipping out, but she knew the guard’s rotation schedules, and she knew there was this one spot on the eastern wall just near the servant’s entrance to the castle that Sofi often used to slip out to meet the butcher’s son. If Sofi could fit through there—and she was not only several inches taller, but also quite a bit wider in the hips—then so could Ria. She just had to make sure nobody was looking. She didn’t want her nighttime exploits getting back to the Council.
Ria spotted the small gap where the corner of two walls connected. It was low to the ground, so she’d have to crawl through, but it was definitely big enough. She was about to run for it when she spotted the glow of a lantern just around the corner. Ria scrambled behind a tree just as two guards appeared. She must have mistimed her arrival at the castle. They’ll be gone in a minute, she told herself as she determinedly did not look at the small wooded area behind her. There’s nothing in the woods, Ria.
