Two chairs sat facing each other in the sand of the arena. The other man-my height, average weight, straight dark hair going gray-was already seated. His magic was new to me but he had won, and that said he must have some skill. The unfocused magic in the crowd made it hard to tell without concentrating. I took the seat boldly but slowly, staring into his shadowed eyes.
This arena was for lizards and related creatures. From the tracks in the sand, someone had summoned the spirit of a snake, a salamander, maybe a chameleon. There were too many tracks. I couldn't tell who had won, but I would have bet on the snake.
Expressionless, the other man raised his hands above his head, palms toward me, elbows bent. I raised my arms, more slowly, menacing, turning my palms when my elbows were in line with my ears.
The guard stood in the middle of the arena, calling for bets. My eyes didn't break the gaze of my opponent, though I heard the shouts, laughs, and curses, and the clattering chips representing betting numbers. Everything was washed in the light of the brazier above. Betting went quickly, but the casinos took more time. Placing bets, collecting bets, everything took place at a rate the poor could not afford.
My thoughts drifted to Dumoss and Annise. My anger returned, but I managed to keep it down. The smell of bodies pressing against the arena finally overpowered the dust in my nose. The place reeked of excitement. My face remained blank; I showed no fear.
The shouts died out as the guard held up his hands, calling for final bets. There were none. He clapped once, twice, turned in place, and clapped again. The din of voices receded to a restless quiet. The weight of eyes and hopes were on us. I dared to think some had bet on me, the newcomer, the stranger, against the evening's current champion.
The guard cut the air between us with a hand and a sharp cry of "Fight!"
I brought my hands together with a clap, my arms outstretched. I reached into the Flow and rose above the noise and smells. The stream stopped rushing and bent toward me, into me.
I opened my palms. Sounds gushed from the crowd. Some had bet on me and were disappointed. My opponent held out a small snake, fast with great fangs. In my hand, spirit drawn forth, was my poisonous toad. To the audience, it looked like just a toad. My expression revealed nothing. The other gambler would not he so confident if he suspected the toad's venom could kill his snake in seconds.
I got lost in the joy of the arena, of gambling. Time was lost as I concentrated on the spirits of my animals, drawing from the Flow, filling the pools in my thoughts with power, then releasing them. I drew more magic, more luck. I felt at ease and fluid.
The ghosts of our animals slithered and hopped across the sand. They had no weight, but they still left tracks. The snake curled and raced to the edge of the arena. I let the toad turn to face the snake, let the Flow run slowly through me. Little sounds of anticipation seeped from the crowd hoping for action, for victory. My confidence was good. Nobody suspected my toad could easily kill with more than teeth.
The snake moved in closer and attempted to strike. I kept my hands on my knees, half watching the spirits, half losing myself in the magic, as did my opponent. Control was easy. I felt comfortably loose as I shifted against the toad's nature to leap and attack. It was a simple creature with a few limbs and a tongue. Poison secreted from its skin. Even its phantom could kill another phantom.
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.