The snake lunged forward. The crowd yelled and laughed as the snake's fang caught against my toad's flesh, but it drew no blood. The snake kept its coils near the toad. I nudged, and the toad clumsily turned and moved an inch, fully brushing against the snake to release its poison.
The toad struggled, breaking my control. It leaped away as the snake bit into the ground. I blinked once. Magic went wild in me. The luck shifted. However, the snake was also lost, running on its own, snapping at the toad.
Suddenly the snake stopped, then coiled into a circle, and snapped at the air. The toad jumped at the snake and bit it hard in the middle, releasing more poison. The snake jerked with spasms that might have dislodged the toad, but the toad clung tight. I couldn't control it or get it away from the snake's fangs. With a final, coiled snap the snake died.
Outraged shouts and laughs burst from the crowd. This was not my usual arena. The toad was a one-time trick. Many animals were immune to its venom. Besides, the crowd would remember my face next time.
This time, however, I had won. There was no greater feeling. I collected my money from the guard and left the arena by pushing past the poor and the better dressed. A stranger slapped me on the back in congratulations. I loved it, loved winning. There was money in my purse, a good amount for the long shot. I'd buy back some of the things the flat was missing. I knew this would make Annise happy.
The luck stayed with me, and I kept winning. The smaller gambling houses took notice. Once I even received an invitation, but I was still allowed at the floating games. People remembered me, and I began to see regular faces, men in rich blue. Annise didn't watch any of the games.
A real candle, scented with lavender for Annise, burned in our old bottle, bathing the room in comfortable light. I bought it in a store that sold only candles in the better part of the city. A store that sold only one thing was beyond comprehension in our neighborhood. Candles were an unthinkable extravagance.
Covering most of the missing slats on the floor was a carpet, worn but not threadbare, woven in a complicated red, black, and white pattern. It, like the candle's light, was comfortable. The man who had sold me the rug assured me it would last a lifetime, said it had been owned by an old woman, recently dead. "Still a lifetime left in it," he'd said as he gave me a cheap piece of padding to put beneath it. His establishment was near the candle shop on the far side of the city, and I struggled the thing home with great difficulty, but I did it for Annise.
On top of the rug were a table and two matching wooden chairs, newer than the rug and in good condition. The chairs were almost a steal from one of the casinos and cost less than a good meal. The pit boss had been instructing his men to take them to market. One quick word from me, and they were mine. I was respected. The pit boss had wanted me to leave with a good feeling about his casino. My good feeling was from winning four nights in a row, nothing more. I took what I could get.
My phantom mantis stood at attention now on the tabletop that I had sanded as smooth as glass. It moved away from my hands, maneuvering. Someday I would face Dumoss in his casino, my mantis against his. My other animals were working well in the arenas, which meant more money. They were eating better, and their spirits were stronger. This was how real gamblers beat lesser opponents. Starvation for the man meant defeat for the animal.
Concentrating on the mantis while I did other things made my control better, made it more dangerous. That was what I wanted-to make the mantis a menace, an unstoppable threat. When the tabletop was smooth, so were the motions of the mantis.
The lock turned quietly, and the door opened before I noticed. There was plenty of oil for the hinges and gears now. Annise stepped in, packages in hand. She had more money, too, but not as much as me. Her hair shone, groomed with a brush I had bought new. We had soap and one towel between us, luxury items. Her expression was taut. Despite our increased fortunes, she still didn't like being touched after work.
Annise faced the table, breathing deeply. "What is that smell?"
The answer was pure joy for me. "A lavender candle."
Her mouth opened, then closed abruptly. Of all the women at the casino, she was the only one who did not steal from Dumoss. Maybe that was one reason he showed her such attention. She could have stolen many such candles. This one was special, bought with affection-earned.
With a flourish, I lifted a cloth covering a plate. Beneath was a grand meal: a fish nestled in sweet syrup, a loaf of warm bread, and fruits so fresh she could smell them across the room. The scent obviously reached her, and she breathed in deep again, closing her eyes briefly. I produced a bottle of wine. She was so beautiful and overwhelmed.
But there was something else behind her smile. She'd brought a surprise of her own, one she couldn't hide. There was a feeling, of power, of the Flow. I'd felt it before-from Master Dumoss and his pendant. My teeth clenched together again and again. She rummaged through her basket for something, avoiding my eyes. She knew I could feel the pendant in the room.
What to do, what to say? What did it mean? Had she given herself to him? Was this our last meal together? After I'd fought and struggled so hard.
I decided to be calm and found my control, deeper now with practice, with success. I could feel the pendant so strongly. If I wore it, the power for my animals would raise me up, higher even than my current status.
Annise stopped her nervous search and put a hand over her throat, where the gold lace was stitched, the promotion from Dumoss. "He gave it to me today."
"I can feel it."
She turned, still nervous. Because she was worried I knew of her betrayal? Because there was no betrayal and she was afraid I would be offended by her acceptance of a gift from another man? One thing was certain: Dumoss was wearing her down. She was weakening, slowly allowing his advances. I'd seen her in the casino from the alley. I knew how she flirted and toyed with him. I'd seen Dumoss slip his arm around her. She needed to be saved from her own weakness with my strength, my success. As long as I was winning, she would be mine. My animals ceased their restless moving.
"Can you feel it?"
Annise brushed some hair from her face and nodded quickly. "A little. My magic is so weak. But it feels-"
"Wonderful." My tone was laced with happiness. We were both gaining the wealth we always wanted.
Annise looked up at me from beneath the shadow covering her eyes and saw my open, genuine smile. She nodded quickly again. "It feels lucky. That's what I'm told will happen. I'll have more magic, so I'll have more luck."
That made me laugh. I didn't tell her magic needed to be exercised, used, and practiced before you can have luck. She thought in terms of superstition and legend. I stood and gestured to the opposite chair. She laughed shortly and put the basket on the floor. She slid past me, without touching. I pulled the chair out, pushed it under her, and set the platter before her dark eyes, glowing warm in the candlelight. I lifted another cloth to reveal newly polished knives and forks.
Annise didn't know what to do. She was open, honestly charming. She gave me little joys without knowing or understanding how much they meant. I would have told her of the pleasure I got if I thought she wouldn't draw away. Instead, I demonstrated the proper process. Following my lead, she picked up the knife and fork, cut a delicate piece of fish, sticky with a slice of orange, and brought it to her lips. Annise stopped, breathed in the scent, then tasted the fish, luxuriating in the flavor.
I poured the wine into matching glasses while Annise chewed slowly, her eyes closed. Smoke from the candle curled into wreathes around her hair and spiraled toward her throat. The pendant filled me with the same languor as her eating. I reached out to touch it. Her eyes were closed; she wouldn't know, if I was careful. My animals were no longer calm. They were moving back and forth, excited.
Annise breathed deeply. I jerked my hand back just before she opened her eyes. Smiling at me over the rim, she sipped her wine, oblivious. I filled her cup again before she could find words, then finally sat
down. Annise motioned me to eat, but the power of the pendant drew away my appetite. I forced myself to swallow anyway.
Some words passed between us, but we were both in different places-elevated-she by the grandeur of my offerings, I by her joy of the moment. My thoughts slipped to the pendant. I couldn't help it. This was what real gamblers had, what kept them apart from the poor more than doors and walls and guards. Everything I'd tasted up until then was nothing but rainwater, impure- the shallows. I wanted more of this power, for it would give me victory over Dumoss and let me keep her.
"What?" she asked.
I was staring at my mantis. My mouth was dry. I'd been muttering. Something needed to be spoken, something deep in my thoughts, something true. It was a gamble to bring it out, but I'd been lucky these past weeks.
"I said… I appreciate you. Just appreciate you."
I knew no man had ever told her more than that he wanted her. I suspected she heard it often at the casino from pit bosses and gamblers. I could picture them, the same look in their eyes when they glanced from her to the arena, the arena to her. They wouldn't see any difference in the prizes.
She blinked into the candlelight, smoke bringing tears to her eyes. She wiped them away and laughed. "Eat," she said.
A single, clean river ran through the city before the soldiers and the Brothers' War. My time then had always been spent working. Pushing vending carts had often taken me to the riverside. There were opportunities to steal moments, wash my face, rinse my aching feet.
Sunlight would make the river silver, sometimes too bright to look at. Stars created a ribbon of sparkling jewels-like Annise-too precious to touch. In the city there were few fish, if any, and nobody tried to catch them except the boys. They threw them back to be caught again.
One day back then the horizon-the mountains- were hidden in a red haze, sunlight angry till it rose overhead, again turning yellow. Birds lifted and flew away. Small animals hid themselves. The boys still caught fish, at least the dead ones that floated on top. That night, the moon burned the same angry red, even overhead. The river was no longer the plane of silver, the band of jewels. It became blood, became a black gash through the city. That was when the first dust fell.
I remember when all the birds left, streets vacant of their calls and songs. Everyone felt the danger, even with weak magic-everyone in the city had some. The sun stayed red till it set. The sky had no stars. The dust fell more thickly.
The great wave of heat and wind from the mountains happened when I was out with a cart. The morning was warm, nobody was buying, staying indoors, protected, they thought. I had wanted to wash my face. The water from a public fountain had stopped, clogged with dust. There were dead animals, squirrels in trees, mice, young birds who hadn't the strength to fly or sing. My gaze went to the mountains, wind rustling my hair. I could feel a power drawing near, outside my body, inside the Flow. At the time I knew little about it. There may have been a scream.
Then I was knocked over by wind, heat, and dust. Clouds coughed up the flesh of mountains, ashes choked the sky. Roaring power shot through the city, scattering everything. This was the power, we learned, of the Brothers' War. This was the aftermath of destruction.
Days and days passed when the only sound was the howl of outrage, of wind and dust and rocks pelting buildings, devouring the essence of the city, drinking its life. What remained collapsed from its own weight. Buildings fell, some overnight, and nobody could walk the streets. I huddled beneath dusty stairs for three days without food or water, staring into thick, rushing air. Things crawled over me. I didn't move.
The city was wrecked. The storm, as if alive, moved to find fresh prey. Memories of the end are cloudy now, but this memory is clear. Something changed, tore away the mantle of my previous life. I was determined to live. I reached down and by a shear force of will I survived. At the end of those three days I had found power-new, confused power relegated by luck. Nothing after that was ever the same.
Before it could recover, the city was set upon by soldiers leaving the Brothers' War. They took everything of worth. Like the wind, the soldiers cut a line from the city's past to the city's bent future. It took a long time to rebuild from the initial plunder.
I noticed a change in myself, as well as the city and the people. The end of the Brothers' War started smaller wars all over the world-fortunate against unfortunate, rich against poor, those with magic against those without.
Crawling, I had returned to collect the remains of the cart. I still wanted to wash my face. Most of the animals were dead, more bodies in the streets. Reaching into the river, I felt new, ugly sensations of death, failure, and hatred. The river was gone. My hand was covered in riverbed muck, gray ooze-a cold, sucking, solid mass that slid down my fingers toward my arm as if it were hungry. I shivered then, though the air was uncomfortably warm. The mass fell away from my hand with a hard shake. It left behind not a smell but a strange memory of weakness, fear, and failure.
I buried my rat now in the river muck. I'd had it with me for five days. The riverbed was still moist, though nobody knew why. There was little rain. All these memories of the city returned with the failure of my magic, my control. I had matched the rat against another player's snake at one of the bigger houses. The snake was fast, but my control over the rat was faster. The duel went on for some time, and I never let up. Then, when the rat was finally ready to strike, I lost control, just for a moment. The Flow stopped, the luck changed. One moment was long enough for the snake to strike. I had lost for the first time in a long time.
The other player had figured me out, had figured out my magic. I had seen this man several times, watching me. He was dressed in rich blue, gold lace at the cuffs and collar, the color of a pit boss's clothes. Gold lace meant he was from the casino of Dumoss. If he had been sent against me, Dumoss was a greater enemy than I suspected.
The little cage and animal sank from sight. With it went a measure of my blood, my life. Annise was doing much better, luck from the pendant served her well- better than I feared. My failure was like the death of the city, the death of my hope, my life.
I spent five days alone brooding over the death of my rat. When she came home, I was already gone. When she could find me, I told her I had somewhere important to go. I could not meet her eyes. She knew about my loss because she could see a cage was missing. She said nothing, we never questioned one another. She did not want to be touched, I did not want to be questioned. I longed to touch her, the pendant. I was sure I could have won if it had been with me.
There was something in my magic, a weakness, something the player in blue found by watching. I sat at the edge of the dead river, staring at the mountains. What did he see? Dust fell on me at night. I ferreted into old buildings, avoided the gaze of the shuffling poor. They angered me, with their eyes filled with pity.
They would not pity me if I had control, if I had won. Control was everything. My control was imperfect, and the man in blue knew it. It didn't matter to him if the Flow changed. It only affected me. I couldn't find an answer to my question. How would I live without her if I couldn't win?
Days and nights passed. I ate nothing, only drank from the few working public fountains. Dust hung on me in layers, night after night after night. I stood in the alley, every stone where it should be, watching her through the window. She smiled and laughed, touched the shoulders of patrons and pit bosses. And Dumoss. She worked and laughed, pretending she was not thinking of me, of my losing. All around her were winners, real gamblers. Her attraction for them was obvious, her betrayal to me could not be far. I had to work faster, harder.
All week, I took the spirits of little creatures at random and tried my magic on them. Insects and small animals were returning from wherever they hid when the great storm came. If they didn't perform as I commanded, my precious mantis killed them. I grew weak but was too determined to give in to fatigue. I didn't recognize time, only light and darkness. Dawns and twilights were gone to me. There
was rain, and dust, and darkness, and light.
At the end of the week, two creatures were left, a bee and a spider. The others died. I made the bee do tricks, the spider the same-different creatures, same control.
The bee's spirit waited patiently for my command. The spider moved about restlessly as I pondered. My clothes lost all color. I felt a sudden need to wash. The bee twitched in my hand.
Waiting on my upturned palm, the bee twitched again, and again at distant intervals. The magic felt weak but even, and a bit muddy. It had felt stronger the day before, and the bee had twitched then as well. Picking at the Flow did nothing to the bee. I waited for the twitch, then poked the bee with magic. Nothing. I crushed the spirit in my hand.
The next week I spent eliminating the part of my magic that made the bee twitch. The snake ate my rat when it hesitated, and I eliminated that, too. Pushed by desperation, I figured it out. Maybe I discovered luck. Maybe the pendant hanging from Annise's throat was the cause. I was going to win again. The mantis would be ready. I would fight only in the mantis arenas-new magic, new control. She would have to stay.
I was invited to the Sun casino because I had won for two weeks straight. I was a rising star again. My game was strong. My wealth grew with my new magic. I had experienced nothing like this before-on top and still rising. It would have been nice if Annise had come to watch. She never watched me play.
Nothing in the room changed. The lavender candle was still in the bottle, long burnt. Its scent lingered. When she returned from work, nothing was different- no questions. She looked at me just the same. I was happy everything was the same, afraid things might have changed in my absence. She might have thought more about leaving. Everything was going to be better-for her as well as me.
The Colors of Magic Anthology (magic: the gathering) Page 23
