You see, Grunk was right. I had been winning steadily all night ... a fact made doubly surprising by my ignorance of the game. Early on, however, I had hit on a system which seemed to be working very welclass="underline" Bet the players, not the cards. On the last hand, I hadn't been betting that I had a winning hand, I was betting that Grunk had a losing hand. Luck had been against him all night, and he was betting wild to try to make up for his losses.
Following my system, I folded the next two hands, then hit them hard on the third. Most of the other players folded rather than question my judgment.
Grunk stayed until the bitter end, hoping I was bluffing.
It turned out that I was (my hand wasn't all that strong), but that his hand was even weaker. Another stack of chips tumbled into my hoard.
"That does it for me," Grunk said, pushing his remaining chips toward the Geek. "Cash me in."
"Me too."
"I should have left an hour ago. Would have saved myself a couple hundred."
The Geek was suddenly busy converting chips back to cash as the game broke up.
Grunk loitered for a few minutes after receiving his share of the bank. Now that we were no longer facing each other over cards, he was surprisingly pleasant.
"You know, Skeeve," he said, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder, "it's been a long time since I've been whipped that bad at dragon poker. Maybe Pidge was right. You're slumming here. You should try for a game with the Kid."
"I was just lucky."
"No, I'm serious. If I knew how to get in touch with him, I'd set up the game myself."
"You won't have to," one of the other players put in as he started for the door. "Once word of this game gets around, the Kid will come looking for you."
"True enough," Grunk laughed over his shoulder.
"Really, Skeeve. If that match-up happens, be sure to pass the word to me. That's a game I'd like to see."
"Sure, Grunk," I said. "You'll be one of the first to know. Catch you later."
Actually, my mind was racing as I made my goodbyes. This was getting out of hand. I had figured on one madcap night on my own, then calling it quits without anyone else the wiser. If the other players started shooting their mouths off all over the Bazaar, there would be no hope of keeping my evening's adventure a secret... particularly from Aahz! The only thing that would be worse would be if I ended up with some hotshot gambler hunting me down for a challenge match.
"Say, Geek," I said, trying to make it sound casual.
"Who is this ‘Kid' they keep talking about?"
The Deveel almost lost his grip on the stack of chips he was counting. He gave me a long stare, then shrugged.
"You know, Skeeve, sometimes I don't know when you're kidding me and when you're serious. I keep forgetting that as successful as you are, you're still new to the Bazaar... and to gambling specifically."
"Terrific. Who's the ‘Kid'?"
"The Kid's the current king of the dragon poker circuit. His trademark is that he always includes a breath mint with his opening bet for each hand ... says that it brings him luck. That's why they call him the ‘Sen-Sen Ante Kid.' I'd advise you to stay away from him, though. You had a good run tonight, but the Kid is the best there is. He'd eat you alive in a head-to-head game."
"I hear that." I laughed. "I was only curious. Really. Just cash me in and I'll be on my way."
The Geek gestured at the stacks of coins on the table.
"What's to cash?" he said. "I pulled mine out the same time I cashed the others' out. The rest is yours."
I looked at the money and swallowed hard. For the first time I could understand why some people found gambling so addictive. There was easily twenty thousand in gold weighing down the table. All mine. From one night of cards!
"Urn... Geek? Could you hold on to my winnings for me? I'm not wild about the idea of walking around with that much gold on me. I can drop back by later with my bodyguards to pick it up."
"Suit yourself," the Geek shrugged. "I can't think of anyone at the Bazaar who would have nerve enough to jump you, with your reputation. Still, you might run into a stranger...."
"Fine," I said, heading for the door. "Then I'll be..."
"Wait a minute! Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What's that?"
"Pidge's marker. Hang on and I'll get it."
He disappeared before I could protest, so I leaned against the wall to wait. I had forgotten about the marker, but the Geek was a gambler and adhered more religiously to the unwritten laws of gambling than most folks obeyed civil law. I'd just have to humor him and...
"Here's the marker, Skeeve," the Deveel announced. "Markie this is Skeeve."
I just gaped at him, unable to speak. Actually, I gaped at the little blond-headed moppet he was leading by the hand. That's right. A girl. Nine or ten years old at the most.
I experienced an all-too-familiar sinking feeling in my stomach that meant I was in trouble... lots of it.
Chapter Two:
"Kids? Who said anything about kids?"
-CONAN
THE little girl looked at me through eyes that glowed with trust and love. She barely stood taller than my waist and had that wholesome, healthy glow that young girls are all supposed to have but so few actually do.
With her little beret and matching jumper, she looked so much like an oversized doll that I wondered if she'd say "Mama" if you turned her upside down, then right-side up again.
She was so adorable that it was obvious that anyone with a drop of paternal instinct would fall in love with her on sight. Fortunately, my partner had trained me well; any instincts I had were of a more monetary nature.
"What's that?" I demanded.
"It's a little girl," the Geek responded. "Haven't you ever seen one before?"
For a minute, I thought I was being baited. Then I remembered some of my earliest conversations with Aahz and controlled my temper.
"I realize that it's a little girl, Geek," I said carefully. "What I was really trying to ask is -a) who is she? -b) what is she doing here? and -c) what has this got to do with Pidge's marker? Do I make myself clear?"
The Deveel blinked his eyes in bewilderment.
"But I just told you. Her name is Markie. She's Pidge's marker... you know, the one you said you would cover personally?"
My stomach bottomed out.
"Geek, we were talking about a piece of paper. You know, ‘IOU, etc.'? A marker! Who leaves a little girl for a marker?"
"Pidge does. Always has. C'mon, Skeeve. You know me. Would I give anyone credit for a piece of paper? I give Pidge credit on Markie here because I know he'll be back to reclaim her."
"Right. You give him credit. I don't deal in little girls. Geek."
"You do now," he smiled. "Everyone at the table heard you say so. I'll admit I was a little surprised at the time."
"... But not surprised enough to warn me about what I was buying into. Thanks a lot, Geek old pal. I'll try to remember to return the favor someday."
In case you didn't notice, that last part was an open threat. As has been noted, I've been getting quite a reputation around the Bazaar as a magician, and I didn't really think the Geek wanted to be on my bad side.
Okay. So it was a rotten trick. I was getting desperate.
"Whoa. Hold it," the Deveel said quickly. "No reason to get upset. If you don't want her, I'll give you cash to cover the marker and keep her myself..."
"That's better."
"... at the usual terms, of course."
I knew I was being suckered. Knew it, mind you. But I had to ask anyway.
"What terms?"
"If Pidge doesn't reclaim her in two weeks, I sell her into slavery for enough money to cover her father's losses."
Check and mate.
I looked at Markie. She was still holding the Geek's hand, listening solemnly while we argued out her fate.