Town hall games were large, loud, and hidden in unused sewers and tunnels. The torch burning in the town hall's high tower announced the arena was still open; no torch, no game. Dustfall started early that night, before sunset. Jogging, I covered my head with a scrap of cloth to keep out the city. Still, my face felt dirty, and my nose itched from dust. Some people believed that the falling dust were the ashes of the dead, ashes from the war. I didn't worry about that much, since it meant time away from practice and training, time too precious to waste.
I entered the arena near a row of houses, all of brick, all better than mine, all kept empty by the floating arenas. There were many such blocks controlled by the bosses, because it prevented major players from learning in advance when and where a game would be played. Invitations came by word of mouth, came quickly to those living on the street, in cheap flats, or parks.
Two men stood in the shadows on either side of the door. I moved to the short line of gamblers shielding themselves from the dust. Testing the luck, I let my eyes drop half-closed: not weak, not strong. Perhaps a trick such as I had planned would win the night. When luck ran my way…
Luck made everything better. There was no other way to describe it. Your animal could do something surprising, your opponent could slip, could sneeze, could look away. Looking away was the worst, the most common mistake. It broke concentration and confused the animal. Good luck made all the difference.
A hand fell on my chest at the door, pushing me back a step. Another hand lifted the cloth from my head. Grunts sounded from the dark, and I was pulled into the darkness. The guards were different tonight, looking for professionals like Dumoss. I ignored them and stepped from the darkness, lamps and candles lighting the path to the arena.
The air was heavy with the scents of dust, dirt, and sweat. Noise from the arena built slowly. My heart beat harder. This kind of excitement was better than the Bloodletting game, better than the Freeze game I played with Annise. People watched the arena, acknowledging the victors. My feet carried me faster.
A game ended as I entered. The crowd jumped to its feet. I smiled and shouted along with everyone else. I'd seen nothing, but it didn't matter. The thrill of the arena moved me. Money was collected by arena guards and given to the victor, someone I didn't know. Faces were hidden by darkness, sometimes washed red by torches.
The arena guard lifted his arms to ask for the next challenger. I pushed through bodies like the arena was a crowded street-men in poor clothes, men in city work uniforms, men in rich blue with gold trim-so many I cannot remember them all. The bright light blinded me, sand shifted under my weight. The crowd was ready for more.
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.