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.
At night I would dream of the Flow, swim in it, drink of it from her bed near mine. The pendant lay across her throat, whispering of victory. I found what I needed to kill the praying mantis of Dumoss. The pendant could give me that power. That's what I wanted-to kill that praying mantis and claim my place in this city, above the poor, forever under foot when I walked past. I wanted Annise with me.
One night while she slept, I reached out to touch the pendant. She stirred. I almost touched her throat. I wondered where, how, she got that prize, that incredible prize. I wondered who she let touch that throat. Dumoss? The pit bosses? I saw them all through the window. She passed time with them, touched their shoulders, arms, maybe caressed a cheek, and always smiling. All with no regret-nothing. I pulled my hand back and clutched my fist to my chest. She would be with me. My new control could give me that.
Staring at the skeleton of the ceiling, I wondered whether Dumoss, sitting somewhere, had heard tales of how good I had become.
He had. Standing inside a casino, the player who killed my rat, a pit boss in blue with gold lace, said Dumoss wanted a challenge. Dumoss wanted to play me that night. My face was blank, a gambler's trick. In my mind I was calm. I was ready.
The pit boss stared at me. He said I could never win, no matter how good my magic. He called me king of the dirt. He said that my luck didn't make me a loser, but that being a loser made my luck.
I returned home to Annise waiting at the window. She stared, sipping from a cup of water and said, "I'm leaving."
The sensation in my chest was like the gambler's game, Freeze, someone constricting my heart. "What?"
"I'm leaving you," she said, hair burnished by fading sunlight. She put a hand on the pendant, ran her fingers along its edges. "I'm going to be off on my own."