High Stakes Game

The Street of the Hopeful Slave was used to visitations by Florivet; one of his most successful children claimed the street. However, other demons of that level did not often set foot there. When they did it was news, for usually it meant some demon was to blessed with citizenship, or some demon was going to be destroyed.

Every now and then it was both, and even to the same demon.

The coming of Janequin generated such excitement, though it was soon clear enough she was not there to bless some demon with citizenship or destruction. She was there to see the Gate Breaker.

Heron had expected her; Ivory had sent off the invitation after all. She came around the workshop, to the shooting range where Heron was practicing. He became aware of Janequin's approach, recognizing the change in demeanour of some demons around him.

He looked over his shoulder, saw the fur and silk clad, woman shaped demon approaching. Closer to the workshop Ivory stood, watching.

Smooth, gliding stride, flash of skin through the slit in her dress with each step. The two demons who had been working on a selection of pistols moved out of the way. She stood at the table, looking down the range, then snapped up one of the weapons and fired rapidly, the cylinder clicking on empty even before the roar of the weapon faded.

She dropped the weapon onto the table where it fell with a 'clunk'. Turning towards Heron, smiling, she said, "An honour to meet you Gate Breaker." She flipped the end of her fox fur stole over her shoulder.

"Fortune's Fool." He nodded and then looked down the range, towards the tight grouping she had put into one of the targets. He lifted his plasma tongue repeater in a lazy arc and squeezed the trigger. The ball of plasma rushed from the weapon to completely obliterate the target, leaving only bits of burning debris.

She laughed.

He caused his pistol to vanish. "Golden Eyes told me that you wished to see me."

Nodding, smiling, Janequin said to him, "I wish to play cards with you."

"It would be a pleasure to play a game in the company of one so lovely."

"Clever tongued Eclipse, you know it is no simple game that I want. I demand a suitable wager."

"What are you hoping to win?" He leaned back against the table.

"When I win, the services of Golden Eyes are mine. She summons me, does what I say. I promise to make sure she won't be hurt."

"Services of a powerful sorceress. What couldn't you do with that?"

"I plan to find out."

"How long?"

"Say as soon as I win you leave Malfeas, Golden Eyes summons me come the first full moon, and stays with me until the end Calibration."

"And what would you offer if I were to win?"

"What do you want?"

Heron looked at the demons who stood near by. Janequin turned her odd coloured eyes towards the demons. The two of them quickly ran off. "Speak freely, poor luck to eavesdroppers today."

"Bring me to Ligier, as secretly as possible. And whether I win or lose, you say nothing about this request."

"Fair enough."

"You set the wager, I chose the game."

Janequin sighed loudly. "You aren't going to suggest something like Gateway are you? I did say cards."

"First War," Heron said.

Janequin smiled. "Excellent."

"If you say so. There's a pleasure house on the street, say we meet there at the next cry of the Tomescu?"

"Agreed. Until then." She stepped forward and kissed him. Heron heard Ivory call out. Then Janequin stepped back and winked at him. "See you soon Gate Breaker." She turned and walked away.

Heron watched as she paused to speak to with an angry looking Ivory, then left, moving out of his sight.

Ivory came running down to him, sliding to a stop. "You kissed her, and you bet me?" Her eyes were wide.

"I wagered your services, she does not actually get you."

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. "You didn't say you were goin' to bet my services."

"I was not aware that Janequin would ask for that."

"You could've asked me."

"I could have."

"If you lose Darken Gray's gonna be mad at you." She set her hands on her hips.

"I think she's going to be upset with me no matter what. She seems that kind of person."

"God."

"That kind of god."

"You can win, right?"

"I believe I will."

"What are you playin'?"

"First War."

"That's a game of luck!" She looked scandalized.

"There is a certain amount of skill required," Heron explained.

"She's all about lucky breaks, and you gave her that kind of game." Her tone was angry, somewhat petulant, and accusing.

Heron reached out and ruffled her hair (the golden headband she wore left her hair neat after he finished) and said, "I do not tell you how to summon demons Golden Eyes, trust me."

She pouted, turned on a heel, and did not quite stomp away.

Heron could not blame her, but he would be glad to let Darken Gray take care of her again.

'White Kitten' was a medium sized building near the centre of the Street of the Hopeful Slave, a Baroque construction of brass and stone. It was a brothel where demons honed the art of seduction and comfort.

The White Kitten's parlour offered tables for gaming, and a staff trained to handle such games. Heron might have taken his game to anywhere in the demon city, but instead he chose the Kitten; a present to Julline.

News of the game between the Gate Breaker and Janequin had spread, not too far through the city in the short time given, but the street was busier than usual.

In the parlour Heron and Janequin sat across from one another on opposite sides of a table made from a silver wood. The audience had gathered, sitting at the bar, or at other tables, where they could watch. A larger crowd had gathered outside, and the proprietor of the White Kitten, a gethin, had arranged for runners to deliver a commentary on the game to those outside (for a price).

At the table between the two players sat a naneke, a creature that looked like a hunched back mortal with the head of a praying mantis. Its name was Osh, and it was considered a leading expert on the game of First War and its rules. It had sworn to both Heron and to a priest of Cecelyne to truthfully present those rules with no bias.

The naneke shuffled the cards as the courtesans of the White Kitten circulated amongst the guests, offering drinks or other pleasures.

Ivory sat at the bar, watching and being entertained by various demons.

"Standard rules for First War," the naneke said, long nailed fingers skillfully riffling the cards, "minimum bet is a finger of brass." That said it put the cards on the table. Heron reached out and cut the deck. The naneke put the cards back together and dealt out ten to each player.

The first few hands went fast, small pots, each player getting a feel for the other. During that time a few serfs were asked to leave, making room for citizens of some rank.

On the sixth hand Janequin won a large pot, playing a complete Solar circle with Lunar matches.

She smiled. "Want to concede?"

"And spoil the entertainment for the spectators? Deal."

Several more hands, nothing as large, but Janequin had momentum, and she was of course very lucky. Heron was not as lucky (few could be as lucky as the demon), but he was very skilled, and he could offset some of that luck.

During a short break as the new deck of cards was brought out, he looked to where Ivory sat at the bar. Amongst the demons she looked small, even more so with her feet so high above the floor. She looked a little nervous. Heron smiled reassuringly at her, then returned his attention to the game.

They continued to play, hours passing, Heron's initial stake down by a quarter from the amount it had started. Most of the demons that filled the room were citizens; on each hand of the game there were side bets going on, the noise from outside of the building had grown.

The tone of that noise changed, a mixture of fear and surprise. Both Heron and Janequin looked towards the parlour's entrance. A few seconds later a hairless young man, with skin the colour of cocoa, entered the room. In his hands her carried a carved box of red jade and brass.

"We've gained dear Sigereth's attention," Janequin said. "Likely jealous that I got to you first."

"Or maybe he just likes a skillfully played game."

"He does, but there is less skill in our game." She smiled.

Sigereth took a position close to the table, standing almost directly behind the dealer. Heron nodded towards the box in the youth's hands before returning his focus to the game.

Two hands later, with both players betting high, Heron won, laying down a full demon run, Primordial, defining soul, expressive soul, and the souls beneath.

"Lucky," Janequin said, smiling.

Heron picked up his winning hand. "I leave the pot in place, to bind and imprison these by their true names." He put the cards aside.

The bar grew quiet for several seconds. One of the spectators even left. The naneke had his shoulders hunched up, as if afraid that someone might stick a knife in his back. "It is a valid rule," it said, "not often used, even in Creation." It trembled slightly. "Upheld."

From her side of the table Janequin stared at Heron through all of the naneke's explanation, and then said, "You whoring, whore son." Her tone was flat.

"Too soon?"

She smiled, though it had less of the easy confidence of only a minute before. "Always too soon here. Deal," she ordered the naneke.

Ivory was tired and she was bored; which at any other time would be a bad combination. At the moment she had to wait patiently.

Seated at the bar, watching the game, all she could really do was talk to some demon who was usually trying to arrange temporary freedom. They knew she could summon almost any demon in Malfeas, and there were a lot of demons who wanted out.

She gave them non-comital answers that they might take how they wanted, but in the end were nothing close to agreement.

When the bar went quiet she looked towards the game, heard the naneke's pronouncement on Heron's play. Ivory had only been half listening to the game until then, but replayed Heron's statement in her head. Then she had to stop herself from laughing.

She was not sure why Heron did it, but she could understand why the demons were upset.

"Please excuse me kind being," someone said close by, the voice deep, a subtle bassy rumble to it.

Ivory looked away from the game towards the voice. The speaker looked mortal, though he had a somewhat unfortunate simian appearance. He was tall, board in the shoulder, his fingers so thick to look clumsy. He was dressed in a suit, black, conservative, a valise tucked under his right arm, and upon his head was an incongruous bowler hat.

He was speaking to a demon who was on the stool beside Ivory. The demon, if Ivory was reading its body language correct, was surprised, possibly frightened. It slipped from the stool to make room for the newcomer.

The simian man took a seat on the stool, his feet planted firmly on the floor. He put the valise on top of the bar. He removed his hat and placed it beside the valise.

"What will you have sir?" the bartender asked.

He looked at the bartender, then at Ivory. "What is the young lady drinking if I might be so blunt as to ask?"

"Mostly poisons by now," the bartender said.

"They all think its funny," Ivory said in way of explanation.

"A very crude form of humour I should think. Might I ask for something alcoholic from Creation and two glasses of cold water."

"Right away."

"I apologize, I have not introduced myself. I am Donner Trods, Professor of History, Briarwood University of Nexus." From a suit pocket he produced a card of cream coloured paper, it looked tiny in his large hands, and held it out towards Ivory.

She took it from him, the card stock felt smooth, silky, sturdy, and the printing on it was sharp, slightly raised. It identified him, as he had said, a professor at the Briarwood university.

She kept it in her hands, politely, and said, "I am Golden Eyes, Twilight Caste of the Unconquered Sun."

Professor Trods nodded. "I am pleased to meet you young lady."

The bartender returned, placing two glasses of water and a tumbler of amber liquid in front of Professor Trods. Trods picked up one of the water glasses and handed it to Ivory. "However you are avoiding the deleterious effects of what you are being offered, a cold glass of water would still be welcome."

"Thank you," Ivory said, taking the glass.

Professor Trods smiled and looked back towards the game. "You are interested in First War?"

"I know the rules," she said, taking a sip of the water. "It's a suit building game, mostly."

The professor nodded. "Quite. It looks as if the Gate Breaker has chosen to use one of the lesser known rules."

Ivory nodded.

"Clever really."

Ivory was not sure why, so she said nothing.

Professor Trods' voice took on a lecturing quality. "In effect, by imprisoning some of the cards, the style of game changes. It allows for a certain amount of strategy and planning to enter the game, reducing the effects of random chance and increasing those of skill. It is not, however, a rule a denizen of Malfeas would normally use."

"So Janequin loses her advantage," Ivory said.

"That would of course depend on the skill of the Gate Breaker."

"No one's more skilled," Ivory said confidently.

Professor Trods picked up the tumbler and took a drink of the liquid. "A bold claim."

"I'm sure of it."

He put down the glass and smiles. "Then I look forward to watching during the time I am here. I must admit to the reasons that brought me here." He picked up his valise from the top of the bar and opened it. "The Mistress of the Forge of Night asked me to deliver this to you, as well as the request that you might offer your thoughts." From the valise he removed a sheaf of papers which he offered to Ivory.

Ivory took it from him, flipping through the pages. They were covered with skillfully drawn diagrams and neat writing. "Do you have a pen?"

"Of course he said," and took a pen from his bag.

Ivory took it, looked it over, saw it was a design with a built in ink reservoir. She turned it over in her hands for a short time, getting a feel for it, then began to make notes. She was careful, doing her best to keep her diagrams and text as neat as the original.

Sometimes Professor Trods would make a comment on the game. Ivory nodded, not really paying attention to him, other than noting the Heron was turning the game around.

The design was for a plasma tongue repeater, laid out with variations on the common theme. Ivory asked at one point why it was made out of soul steel and Professor Trods told her that when works were commissioned that Alveua worked with the materials that required.

Ivory did not believe it, at least she did not believe that it was as simple as that.

Alveua was making a plasma tongue repeater out of soul steel, and it was no simple weapon. While Ivory had never had the chance to take apart Heron's weapons (not that she had not asked) she had theories about the weapons. What Alveua was building matched those theories.

There were times when she had to hold back on her thoughts, remember that Alveua was an enemy. Still, it was nice to work with someone who could appreciate her thoughts.

"This should be enough," Ivory said, handing the notes and pen back to Professor Trods.

The man took the paper and pen in his thick fingered hands and returned them to his valise. "I have to say your confidence in the Gate Breaker was well placed."

Ivory looked towards table where Heron and Janequin sat. Heron's pile of chips was significantly larger than the demon's, and she also noted the demons in the room seemed a little less animated. They had obviously hoped that Janequin would win.

"I know he'll win," Ivory told him.

"Quite possibly," Professor Trods said as he stood. He picked up his hat, set it on his head and smiled at Ivory. "I thank you for your time young lady."

"You're welcome. Can I ask what a professor of history is doing here?"

"Teaching at a branch school of Briarwood."

"Your university has a branch school in Malfeas?"

He smiled again, showing too many teeth Ivory thought, and said, "Where ever I am there is a branch school of Briarwood. Perhaps I will have an opportunity to see to your education one day."

There was something in that innocent statement that Ivory supposed could taken in so many ways. "We will see," she replied.

He tipped his hat then turned and walked away.

Before he was even out of the room another demon had taken the seat he had vacated.

"Do you know who that was?" Ivory asked the demon, a lavender skinned neomah

The neomah turned her liquid black eyes to Ivory, she smiled. "More trouble than you want little one," she said, gently reaching out to run her fingers through Ivory's hair.

Ivory did not pull back, but gently grasped the demons hand and moved it away from her. The neomah, still smiling, did not seem concerned.

"Any specific type of trouble?"

"They consort with the great lords."

There was more to it than that, but Ivory suspected the neomah would not tell her. "Thank you," she said.

"Of course Golden Eyes. My pleasure to serve."

Heron had played such long games before, against such skilled opponents, and he had won more than he lad lost, but he had lost. He laid down a winning hand, took the small pot. He had enough of a stake to buy any hand, but he knew that Janequin would fold before her losses came close to her remaining stake.

A new hand was dealt out, Heron looked over his cards, opened with ten fingers of brass. Janequin matched and raised twenty more fingers before buying a new card.

Heron matched her raise, fanned his cards, then collapsed them. "You have been keeping track of the pot?" he asked the dealer.

The dealer started, shoulders hunched slightly. "I have Gate Breaker."

Heron nodded, fanned his cards open again to look at them.

Given time he could slowly drain Janequin's stake, win the game by slow attrition. He knew it would be boring, and it would not please the Yozi who no doubted watched. Diplomatic immunity aside, he was protected more by the fact that the rulers of hell found him interesting.

While his death would be an entertainment, it would be the last they might enjoy related to him.

So, he had to entertain them.

He considered the cost of his loss. Ivory would have to find another method to get the information they needed, and her services would be given the Janequin. He had little doubt that Janequin would bring destruction and suffering to Creation.

High, but he could accept that.

And he did not plan on losing.

"I am breaking the prison," he announced.

The nanake dealer trembled, while near by a soft, satisfied hum came from the box carried by the hairless youth, other demons expressed surprise, or confusion, and Janequin tightened the grip on her cards enough to cause them to curl slightly.

The nanake, nearly shaking, his voice uncertain, asked Janequin, "Will you ride the shattering, or concede?"

She put her cards face down on the table, then slapped the nanake hard enough to rock him back on his chair. "Of course I will ride the shattering."

Picking up her cards she smiled at Heron. "Whore son."

Heron did not answer, but turned to the cards he had put aside when he had locked them away. Carefully he chose his new hand, taking and discarding cards. "A greater demon storm," he finally said, placing the cards down on the table.

With a laugh Janequin hurled her cards to the table. "Lesser demon storm."

Heron looked at her cards, all scattered face up on the table. So close to a perfect hand, his victory razor thin.

Still smiling, Janequin flipped the table away, dropping its weight onto the nanake. A number of markers scattered through the crowd, no few of them hitting Sigereth's puppet, one clinking off the box he held.

No anger in her actions, Janequin was out of her chair and sitting astride Heron in a heartbeat. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, grinding herself against him. There was some laughter amongst the demons, and an angry cry from Ivory.

She broke the kiss. "You've won. We'll play again." She stood up, pulled the fox fur stole from around her neck and wrapped it around his. He could smell her scent upon it, the warmth of her body. "I'll make preparations. I'll send word when I am ready."

Then she left, walking from the parlour, her shoulder hitting the shoulder of Sigereth's puppet as she passed.

"Well played Gate Breaker. I was pleased to see you play again. I hope that we too will play again." Sigereth's voice came from the box.

"High praise," Heron said lazily.

The puppet turned and left, following the path that Janequin had taken.

Heron stood, reached down and pulled the table up, freeing the nanake. He pulled the demon to its feet. "Thank you for your services."

The nanake bowed its head, bobbing up and down, backing away. "Of course Gate Breaker, my honour."

Allowing the nanake to make its escape Heron bent down and picked up one of the fallen markers. He flipped it into the air, caught it, and then said, "Keep the rest as souvenirs."

A few cheers at that, though most were quickly kneeling down to gather up the fallen chips.

Heron walked over to where Ivory stood. "Come on Golden Eyes."

Ivory was frowning at him, likely upset over the kiss that Janequin had taken. He might have said something, teasingly chided a smile from her, but the game had been long.

They left the White Kitten, no one getting in their way.

When they were on the street, an area of privacy about them he asked, "Who was that big man you were talking to."

Ivory did not say anything right away, and Heron was worried that she was going to keep silent out of spite, but then she said, "I'm not sure. An Akuma at the very least, perhaps something more dangerous."

Heron considered that as they walked towards Julline's workshop.

Music

Lust to Love by the Go Gos

Loosing Lately Gambler by Corb Lund