Euclid set down another three—of Air this time. My mind whirred, getting into Rain Man stuff. I needed to make sure I kept counting the cards, to try and predict what Euclid might put down next. Since I still had a three in my deck, I knew that putting it down would clear the threes completely. Strategy was key here. I didn’t want to be left clinging to the low cards, even if it meant taking a hit when he inevitably put down a four or higher.
“Three of Earth.” I slapped that puppy onto the pile.
“Four of Water.” Euclid put his card down, and something leapt right out of the card and slapped me in the face.
“Five of Water,” I responded, laying down a card I could barely even see through my watering eyes.
Euclid staggered back as blue energy surged from the card and socked him in the stomach. But he recovered quickly, putting down another five, which I had no choice but to match. With half the deck separated from the pile, it was impossible to know what else he might have in his hand. I had to offload my low cards while I could.
I braced as he put down a seven of Air, and a shallow gash tore across my upper arm, which started oozing blood. I shot back with an eight of Fire and watched him hop about like a kangaroo as a shower of embers cascaded over him. One of his wispy strands of hair caught fire, and he frantically patted it, a yelp escaping his throat. But it was too late for that greasy tendril. He’d have a singed clump for a while.
“Eight of Water,” he said coldly, once he’d gathered himself.
“Nine of Earth.” I dropped my card on top of the pile. Another invisible punch suckered him in the gut, prompting him to double over and clutch his abdomen. He wheezed and panted, which his mother would’ve appreciated. He definitely sounded like a woman in labor.
“Ten of Air,” Euclid grunted, putting his card down with a shaky hand.
Frosty white strands slithered out of the card and wrapped around my throat, squeezing until my eyes bulged and my lungs strained. I braced my hands against the counter, praying for it to stop. I mean, there wasn’t much I could do about it, magically speaking, since this strangling thing was coming from a card. It released me a moment later, and I put down another ten, only to get kicked in the crown jewels as he slapped down a Jack of Fire. I cried out and stumbled against the counter, gasping as nausea churned in my belly and made its way up my throat. I gripped the counter’s edge hard and breathed deeply to stop myself from spewing my breakfast all over the place.
Why the jewels, man? Come on! The day started off so great, and now here I was getting nad-kicked by a card.
The brutal punishments only got worse as the cards went higher. As Euclid put down a queen, I got a near knockout punch to the face. When I upped it with a king, Euclid went flying, slamming into the back wall with so much force I thought the guy’s teeth would spill out.
It was getting serious now. I didn’t have many cards left, but there were still a few low numbers in there. Euclid had to be in the same situation, unless he’d palmed the deck somehow and given himself the best hand.
After two more Kings, we moved into ace territory. I slipped my Ace of Fire onto the deck and watched with morbid fascination as a tornado of flames rose up from the card. It pummeled Euclid, forcing him to duck behind the counter. But the inferno managed to singe off the rest of his hair before he ducked, leaving smoking clusters of burnt wisps. He stood back up, looking a little shell-shocked. Tentatively, he lifted his hand to what remained of his hair and grimaced.
“I spent months growing that,” he muttered, before slamming down his own card. “Ace of Water.”
Oh no…
I gulped a deep breath in preparation as water coiled out of the card and barreled into me, sending me careening backward into a stack of precious artifacts. I hoped he didn’t have a “you break it, you buy it” policy as the relentless torrent pounded into me. I couldn’t breathe, my nostrils full of water and my mouth spluttering for air. But, eventually, it stopped.
I got up, soggy and peeved, and squelched back to the counter, somewhat impressed I’d managed to keep hold of my cards. I had one ace left. Again, with half the deck out of play, I had no way of knowing if he had another ace, which would force me to use a lower card and pick up the cards that had already been played. If that happened, Euclid would definitely win. He only had a few cards left.
“Ace of Earth.” I laid down the card, and all hell broke loose. Apparently, the rules of matching didn’t apply to the aces. Green light flashed, and vines suddenly erupted out of the card. They twisted around Euclid, constricting like spiny pythons around the pawnshop owner. The thorns buried deep, blood welling around the points of entry. Euclid groaned as the vines twisted tighter, intent on squeezing the living daylights out of him. He struggled against them, which encouraged them to constrict even more. His cheeks turned purple, and his eyes bugged out of his head. I didn’t know if this game could actually kill a person, but I started to worry about the possibility.
A moment later, the vines vanished, and Euclid slumped forward, a broken man. “Well played, sir,” he rasped, clawing in breath after breath.
“It’s your turn.” I swallowed the fear in my voice. If he had an ace, then it’d be game over. And I’d have to come up with a plan B to get intel on the daggers and not lose my Eye of Erebus in the process. Of course, I still had a few cards up my sleeve. Not literally, but figuratively. A little bit of manipulation to make sure this turned out in my favor.
Euclid hoisted himself up and scanned his cards. Discreetly, I sent a thin tendril of Mimicry toward the deck—so thin he wouldn’t notice it sneaking into his cards. With a last-ditch stretch of effort, I altered the surface of the cards to make sure they all appeared lower to him. But if he laid down that ace, even if it was disguised, it’d still hit me. I’d have to weasel my way out of that one, if it came.
As he plucked a card from the deck, my heart damn near stopped. I watched in nervous anticipation as he laid it down on my ace. I saw the squiggly lines of Air, and my heart started to hammer wildly. Then he drew his hand away, revealing the card in its entirety.
“A nine of Air!” I yelped, punching the air. “A nine of Air!” I didn’t know what card actually lay there, but it had to be a lower one or I’d be feeling the effects of a big old ace right now. And I wasn’t. Luck and skill combining in a perfect storm.
Euclid scowled. “You win, sir.”
“Don’t we have to keep playing?”
“You would only win, and I would only suffer more,” he replied. “I… surrender.” He scooped up the cards and put them back in the full deck, wincing with every breath. The vines had cracked a rib or two, from the looks of it.
“So I get what I want?” I asked, discreetly retracting the Mimicry tendril.
He shot me an irritated look. “Yes.”
“So who brought in the daggers? When did they come in? And here’s the big one—who did you sell them to?” I was riding the wave of triumph here, even though my wet skin had taken on a chill.
He sighed. “Bacchus brought them in, as you suspected. This must have been a few months ago, but I could not get anyone to buy the things. It is difficult when items are personalized—nobody wants them, in case they can be traced by the original owners. Then, a few days ago, a man came in and asked to buy them.”
“What man?” I pressed. With every answer he gave me, I was getting closer to the truth.
Euclid groaned. “Tall fellow with blue eyes. Couldn’t make out his hair color because he had tied it back under a hood. Excellent posture, like he’d been raised wealthy. He wore a cloak, but I noticed he was well-dressed beneath it—a suit of some kind, not like anything I’ve seen before. He had some markings on his cheek, but they looked as though they had been done by Cassandra—the tattooist next door. Bless her heart, she’s never been able to do a proper likeness of our markings. So I sensed he wasn’t who he appeared to be. Not that I’m here to judge. I don’t ask questions when folks are buying expensive merchandise
. He might have hidden his real markings and covered them with temporary ones. Anyway, he had this strange accent—but I figured that’s just how some rich people talk, or he was putting on a voice to cover his real voice. You’d be shocked how many folks do that when they come in here.”
Holy crap! My stomach plummeted. Euclid was describing Davin. The description matched him, down to the accent. I didn’t even know why I was surprised. He’d been flaunting his Necromancy abilities ever since he joined the suitor race, and what better way to win the princess’s favor and prove just how snazzy Necromancy could be, than to resurrect a recently assassinated Kaya in front of everyone?
He’d even said something about weapons leading to the source when the attack happened. How could I have been such an idiot not to see it then? The trouble was, it would take more than speculation to pin the crime on Davin.
“Did he leave anything behind when he bought the daggers? A note, a name, an item that he exchanged for the knives, maybe?” I was desperate now.
Euclid smiled sourly. “He purchased the daggers with a rare gold coin imbued with the ability to bring good fortune to whoever has it in their possession.” He patted the top pocket of his jacket subconsciously.
Must’ve been a dud. I held back the witty retort. I mean, he’d just been battered six ways to Sunday, so the luck clearly wasn’t rubbing off on him. Unless Davin had lied and talked up the coin to strike a deal. Either way, I needed that coin.
“How about you give me a glimpse of that coin?” I demanded bluntly. “If I like what I see, I’ve got money. I can pay you for it. A bunch of coins for one measly one. Or we can play another game of war for it?” I wanted to get a feel for the object before I made any moves, to see if it was familiar, or what kind of energy signatures it had coming off it. But my new pal was done playing ball.
Euclid snickered. “All the gold in your possession, if you even have any, would not cover a single speck of gold dust from this particular coin. So, no, you can’t have a glimpse, you can’t buy it from me, and I don’t feel inclined to make another bet with you. Perhaps you should’ve asked for it as part of your initial bargain.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I hadn’t even known about the coin when I made the first bargain, because he wouldn’t tell me about it. And now he was munching on his sour grapes, all because I’d beaten him.
But I wasn’t defeated yet. Oh no. This was going to take a different type of strategy, and if he wanted to play hardball, then so be it.
“Fine. Thanks for the game. I suggest you put some salve on those thorn cuts before they get infected.” I dipped my head at him and strode out of the pawn shop without another word.
Stepping back outside, I slipped into a nearby alleyway and transformed into Euclid’s bulldozer of a mother. I waited for the static electricity of my Mimicry to die down before I headed back out of the alley and thundered into the pawnshop once again. Euclid’s eyes flew wide as he saw me, his face going even paler.
“You worthless sack of salmon spawn!” I bellowed, flapping my hands wildly at the shop. “What did you do?! Look at this place! I’m gone all of five seconds, and you start smashing things?! You petulant imp—did you think you’d get revenge on me by breaking the merchandise? Or have you been playing that ridiculous card game again? What have I told you about gambling? Had I known I would get you as a son, I never would have gambled on genetics! Three days, I struggled to push you out! THREE DAYS! And you can’t wait five seconds before you destroy this shop! You will pay for this out of your own pocket, Euclid!”
He shook violently, as I’d hoped he would. “Mother, if you’ll just let me explain. A man came in, and he—”
“I see no man! Do you expect me to believe a word that comes out of your useless mouth? Where is this man, Euclid? Is he invisible? Do you take me for a fool?” I marched up to the counter and snatched up a broom. Without warning, I smacked the broom down on his head. “That is for ruining me!” I smacked him again. “That is for destroying my shop!” I smacked him a third time, harder. “That is for being an utter moron!” I smacked him a fourth time, for good measure. “And that is for not taking out the garbage this morning!”
He cowered, covering his head with his hands. “Mother!”
“Don’t you ‘Mother’ me, Euclid. I rue the day I became your mother!” I dropped the broom and seized him by the arms, dragging him up while my hefty bosom bounced angrily. I’d never get used to putting on a female form. So many things jiggling that never usually jiggled.
“Mother, I did take out the garbage!” Euclid wailed.
“Then perhaps I ought to do the same, and dump you in the sewers where you belong, with the rest of the trash!” I shook him, using his confusion and panic to lift the coin from his pocket. “I’m going back to the Trident, and I expect this place to be pristine when I get back. Do you hear me?”
Euclid nodded weakly. “Yes, Mother.”
“Spotless! I mean it!” I snapped.
“Yes, Mother,” he murmured, rubbing his head where the broom had smacked him. I felt bad for inflicting the egg that’d swell up where I’d whacked him, especially since he’d kept his initial promise. I might have gotten a little carried away, but we’d done worse to each other in the card game. And I couldn’t take that whack back now, so there was no use crying over broken eggs.
I stormed out and slipped back into the side alley. There, I transformed back into the Atlantean servant and looked down at my palm. A large gold coin sat there, the edges dented and the surface worn from years of use. Davin had bought the daggers with this. Which meant I could pin the crime to him, with no wiggle room for him to escape. Once upon a time, a tracking spell had been used to catch me. So it seemed ironic that I would use the same method to catch Davin. With that spell, the coin would lead us straight to him, with an undeniable trail of events that would surely bring the axe down.
Oh yes, I had the sucker now!
Twelve
Finch
Riding the buzz of having something tangible in exchange for some hard work, I hurried back to the palace. This was the way it was supposed to be: I did some digging, made some inquiries, and got what I was looking for after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing. If only getting out of my upcoming nuptials was so easy. Still, it’d given me a much-needed boost, and I was going to ride the rocket under my ass until it sputtered out.
Slinking past the guards in case I bumped into the real Icarus on the way, I ducked into a side room for a minute to Shift back to Nash. I still had no idea why a palace needed so many rooms which served no obvious purpose.
But this particular one had served a purpose for me. I’d left Huntress here before I scurried off to the Trench, since the sight of a surface-dwelling pooch would’ve gotten some suspicious stares. She growled at me as I turned back into Nash, but I was too jazzed to get upset about a peeved dog. She could like it or lump it, and at least she would see her beloved Nash again soon.
Back in plaid, with Fluffs McGee at my side, I raced through the palace until I reached the familiar, uber-warded door of my pseudo-prison. A guard stood outside, gripping his spear in a way that suggested major compensation issues. He eyed me coldly as I approached, with the haughty expression worn by a man in a minor position of authority.
“Hi there.” I tipped my imaginary hat at him. “I’m just here to speak with Finch on some…” I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial hush “…suitor business. Could you let me in?”
The guard’s lips turned up in a smirk. “Suitor business, eh? Well then, I had best not keep you.” He didn’t even lift his hands, instead using that snazzy Sentient stuff all these Atlanteans had. Glittering bronze Chaos swirled out of him and into the thrumming, semi-invisible forcefield that kept the bad guys out. Aka, Erebus and Davin, and anyone else who might want me dead.
A person-sized tear appeared in the forcefield, while the guard flashed me a disconcerting wink. I didn’t know why he was being so cheerful about it, to be hone
st. I’d have expected a lot more outrage about the idea that Kaya might want to marry an outsider. Then again, not many people actually knew, for certain, that she would pick me. For now, it was simply the stuff of Atlantean gossip columns—if such things existed.
I reached through to the physical door and turned the handle. I stayed on the threshold for a moment, for the sake of keeping up appearances. Inside, I spotted “Finch” sitting by the window. Alone. He looked like he’d had a rod shoved up his back or something. I’d never seen someone sit so straight.
Sorry, Nash. The poor guy had probably been crapping his pants since I left, especially without Huntress for company. Speaking of which, his loyal hound looked ready to leap across the room and pounce on “Finch.” My hand shot down and grabbed her bandana, giving her a not-so-subtle warning that it’d be a bad idea with the guard watching. She whined in the back of her throat but stayed put.
“I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again: you’ve got that matrimonial glow about you, Finch.” I couldn’t resist a little tease.
“Finch” turned and flashed me a death stare. “Oh, do I? I must be looking forward to this whole thing.”
Oof, low blow. I probably deserved it.
“Now, now, Mr. Grumpy Gills, I come bearing good news.” I took the opportunity to step into the room and close the door behind me. I’d played it up enough for the guard.
“This isn’t funny. Do you know how long it’s been?” Nash hissed, standing sharply. Huntress immediately bounded over to him and nuzzled his knees, forcing him to minimize his desire to murder me for a second to give her some love.
I shrugged. “You don’t wear a watch, and I don’t either.”
“I never should have agreed to this. You’ve got no idea what I’ve been through!” He looked haunted, as if he’d walked in on Shrek taking a shower.
“What do you mean?” I peered at him curiously. I hadn’t expected his day to be eventful. How hard could it be to sit in a room alone?
Harley Merlin 15: Finch Merlin and the Everlasting Vow Page 11
