Before Nari let me out of her office, she explained my duties. Mostly she wanted me to wander around serving “refreshments”—her code word for the various kinds of wine on offer—while using my Charm to encourage customers to relax. People got tense when they were gambling, she told me, especially when they were losing. “Don’t try to influence the games—that’s against the rules,” she said. “Just make sure they’re having a good time. And don’t let them hassle you. I’ll have the bouncers keep an eye out for trouble.”

Then she directed me to conjure an outfit more appropriate for a gambling parlor, to replace my traveling clothes.

“Something like what you’re wearing, but not as fancy?” I asked, eyeing the brocade dragon-and-phoenix design that patterned her silk dress.

Nari laughed as if I’d said something particularly amusing. “Oh, my dear. Fancier, if you can manage it.”

Though I knew my mother would be horrified if she saw me serving drinks in her former gambling parlor, I had to admit I was happy about having the chance to use magic without limits or lectures. I took a moment to imagine a costume, then concentrated on making it materialize. Charm spun me a gray silk blouse stiff with embroidery and studded with small golden pearls that winked in the light like captive moons. Having the time to focus properly helped me magic up a perfectly tailored pair of slacks and slippers to match. Gold jewelry with more pearls glittered at my throat, ears, and wrists, and a gold hairpin held my hair up in an elaborate chiffon.

“Not bad,” Nari said, as if I were another pretty trinket decorating her office. “You’re definitely Seonmi’s daughter, maybe even more powerful than she was. One of these days I’ll tell you about the tricks she played. She was better at making crowds dozy than I was.”

My mom, powerful with Charm? And using her magic against groups of people? The thought unsettled me. To say nothing of the idea of my mom, who always wore plain clothes around the house, in an elaborate dress like Nari’s. I couldn’t picture it at all.

Nari brought me a mirror so I could check my appearance. I already knew I looked good, though. Maybe even good enough to impress the customers.

“Come,” Nari purred. She took my arm and guided me out onto the floor. “Your shift will end in four hours. Can’t push you too hard on your first day, after all.”

First and last day, I thought, wondering how I was going to convince her to advance me some money later tonight. She had said she owed Mom a favor. . . .

“Yong!” she called. One of the bouncers, who had been looming over a table of card players, made his way over to us. He was even larger than the man I’d met at the door. His vest was made of the same brocade as Nari’s dress. That, plus the tattoo that covered half his face in a lace-like pattern, made him look a bit like a floor lamp. But I noticed a slight lump under his vest, indicating a hidden weapon. I bet people didn’t underestimate him twice.

“Yong, this is a new greeter,” Nari said to the man. “Her name is Min. Show her around while I see to business, will you?” With that, she whisked off.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said to Yong, smiling up at him and wishing I’d chosen to be taller. “My name is actually Bora,” I added, flashing him my ID. No reason he needed to remember the name Min.

Yong grunted in response. He gave me a wordless tour of the gambling parlor’s various rooms. The entire place had been done up in red for good fortune, with gold-tone ornaments hanging from the walls. Any less restraint and the effect would have been tacky. Lively music played from hidden speakers, and I found it catchy.

My eyes went round when he took me past the private room in back for what looked like very intense card games. The gamblers casually tossed around handfuls of chits worth sums that could have kept my entire family fed and clothed for a year.

For that matter, Nari seemed to be doing pretty well herself as the owner of this establishment. What a different life Mom could have had. Did she ever regret her decision? I wondered.

“Is Captain Hye somewhere in here?” I asked Yong. “Nari mentioned her. . . .” I hoped this was vague enough not to raise Yong’s suspicions. I was wary of using Charm on him. If he worked for Nari, he had to know about fox magic.

“Nari’s warned you about her, huh?” Yong said, sounding weary. “She’s at the high-stakes table.”

“In that room we just passed?” I asked casually.

He nodded. “Woman with the red shirt and the scar on her chin. Her luck’s decidedly unpredictable. The way things look right now, she might even gamble her ship away.”

I suppressed a huff of alarm. I couldn’t let that happen if I was going to get off-planet tonight! Why couldn’t I have picked a captain who didn’t have a gambling habit? Still, maybe Captain Hye’s bad luck could be turned into an opportunity for me. I just had to get in there and talk her into leaving. But how?

At this hour, more people were coming to Nari’s to try their luck at various games, so I had to attend to my duties. I smiled at chattering gamblers while I shuttled to and from the bar with drinks. Yong and the other bouncers, dressed in identical uniforms, watched from their stations, their expressions professionally forbidding. One woman in a fancy fur coat raised a fuss when she lost everything at dice. Yong escorted her out as she jabbered that she just needed one more throw. I stifled a pang of unease. My use of Charm was encouraging people to stay longer and lose more money.

As the minutes wore on, I got better at determining which people had a real gambling habit and which had come to keep their friends company or enjoy a fun night out. I couldn’t always tell by how well or poorly dressed they were. But the gamblers had a haunted look in their eyes, and they stank of desperation.

I was starting to get an idea of why Mom had chosen to leave the gambling parlor behind. She wouldn’t approve of me being here, either, and especially the way I was using Charm. In the past, I’d only wielded it in small ways, not on whole groups of people like this. It took more effort than I was used to.

“You there!” a gambler called out, a man with a red face and a beard that had seen better days. “Another cup of cheongju, if you would!”

I smiled coolly at him. “I’ll be right back.” Cheongju is rice wine, I reminded myself. I’d never had it, but my mom and aunties sometimes indulged on New Year’s Day, or offered a cup to the ancestors.

Nari kept the wine in a dizzyingly crowded bar in the back, next to the tiny kitchen that dispensed snacks for favored guests. No one had told me the name of the wizened female bartender. She scowled at me every time I appeared to retrieve a drink for one of the customers.

Inspiration struck. “Cheongju, please,” I said, “and a gukhwaju as well, for Captain Hye.” Gukhwaju was chrysanthemum wine. I picked it at random, mainly because it came in a fancy bottle, so I figured it was the good stuff.

The wizened woman’s scowl deepened. “Hye’s luck has changed, eh? Well, that won’t last, but it’s her funeral.”

The way she said this aroused my curiosity. “What do you mean?”

She laughed sourly. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already. The boss magicks up the wine. It makes people’s luck go sour. The authorities come in regularly to ensure that the games aren’t rigged, but they fail to detect what she does to the refreshments. Gamblers always like to drink when they think they’re winning big, so the wine ensures that they end up losing anything they might have won. That way the parlor always comes out ahead.”

I tried to suppress the sick feeling in my stomach. Maybe my mom wasn’t right about everything, but the fact that she’d parted ways with Nari should have set off alarm bells in my head. No wonder she frowned on the use of Charm. I’d have to get out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to be complicit in my aunt’s deceit one minute longer than necessary.

I waited impatiently while the bartender poured the two drinks and set them down. “Thanks!” I said, snatching up the tray as soon as she was done.

It took all my self-control not to run. I’d draw attention to myself if I tripped and spilled the drinks. The red-faced man had finished up the current round of dice and was now cheering on a friend. “Here you go,” I said, and produced the cheongju with a flourish.

He tipped without looking at me. I almost choked when I saw the large denomination of currency he’d laid in my hand. I stammered my thanks and made my way toward the high-stakes room, not looking left or right. If no one made eye contact with me, then hopefully I could avoid having to serve any more drinks before I reached my target. Behind me I heard a couple of people calling out, but I ignored them and walked faster. I snuck a glance toward Nari, who was chatting with a man dressed in extremely expensive clothes. I hoped the conversation would keep her distracted for a while.

My luck held. A woman looked up as I entered the back room, but she didn’t summon me over. Gamblers were playing at two of the high-stakes tables. One of the games I recognized as a flower cards variant; the other I hadn’t seen before.

I spotted Captain Hye straight off. She was the only one in a red shirt, and she had a spacer’s pallor. She frowned at her hand of cards, and sweat stains showed at her back. I had to get her out of there.

“Captain Hye,” I said in my sweetest voice, “here’s that gukhwaju you ordered.” I exerted just a bit of Charm, not only in the captain’s direction but also toward the other players around the table, to convince them it was likely she had asked for a drink while they were distracted.

Captain Hye looked puzzled. Then her eyes turned calculating and she reached out greedily for the cup. I watched as she took a big gulp. I hoped I could get her out of here before her luck worsened.

The captain drew a card, frowned again, and sighed deeply. Apparently she was having trouble making sets, which is how one scored points. She completed her turn and leaned back, shaking her head.

I glanced around for an excuse to linger and spotted some empty glasses to collect. As I passed Hye, I whispered in her ear, “I was wondering if I might have a word with you.”

She blanched. “I’m not ready to go yet,” she snapped. “Just one more game.”

Her companions laughed. “They’re onto you, eh?” one of them said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” the captain hissed.

I cursed silently. Sure, the wine had given me a great excuse to seek her out, but it was also interfering with her playing, and she was too preoccupied to talk to me. I should have served her a glass of water instead. I didn’t know how long the effect of the magic wine would last, either.

Hye’s agitation, and her friend’s comment, told me that she was already deeply in debt to the house. That gave me an idea, although I felt bad about taking advantage of her. But it would get me off Jinju and her away from Nari, so we’d both win, right?

“I have an offer for you,” I said into her ear as I glanced at the doorway. Yong was approaching. He must have noticed that I was chatting for too long instead of serving drinks. I had to make this quick. “A colleague of Nari’s needs passage off-planet. If you do that for her, Nari will cancel your debt. Just don’t let on to your friends.”

For a moment, Captain Hye looked stunned by her sudden change in fortune.

“What is it?” her snide friend asked. “You getting pointers from the staff now?”

That brought her back to her senses. “Mind your own business,” she quipped. Then, to me, she murmured, “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” I said. “You can finish up this game.” It was hard to disguise my worry that she’d get sucked into playing all night. “Your passenger will be waiting at your ship in an hour and a half.” That should give me enough time to reach the Red Azalea after I snuck out of this place.

“Done, done,” Captain Hye said. Eyes gleaming with greed, she added, “Get me more gukhwaju.” She hadn’t even finished her glass yet, but it gave me a reason to head back to the bar.

On the way, I passed Yong. He turned and accompanied me out of the room, whispering sternly, “You should stick to your duties instead of getting friendly with the clients.”

“Sorry,” I said in a suitably chastened voice. To allay any suspicion, I added, “Those high-stakes players really know how to tip.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You’re not going to last here long if you give any customer preferential treatment. Nari doesn’t like that.”

I nodded obediently. “Understood.”

Yong pointed to a table where a rotund man was signaling for a drink and said, “Don’t keep him waiting,” before stalking off.

Just then, I heard a commotion behind me. Two of the bouncers strode quickly past, toward the high-stakes room I’d just left. I wondered what was going on, but I couldn’t investigate—I had to fulfill the man’s request for rice wine.

I kept my ears pricked—metaphorically, anyway—while hurrying to the bar. On my way back to the table, I saw that Hye was being escorted to Nari’s office.

“I told you, Nari and I have an agreement!” the captain slurred in a loud voice. Was she drunk already?

I intentionally dropped the glass of rice wine I was carrying and bent over to pick it up so she wouldn’t spot me.

“Just let me finish my—” Hye was saying as the office door closed behind her.

It looked like she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight.

I waited until one of the other bouncers passed by, then popped up and looked at him with a worried frown. “Is something wrong?” I asked innocently.

“Hye finally bet too much,” the bouncer said with a headshake. “Must have gotten overconfident—or desperate. None of your business, though.” He scowled at me, and I hurried over to a table, not coincidentally one close to the parlor’s entrance.

Hye would rat me out to Nari any minute now. Time for me to make my exit.

I just had to hope the Red Azalea had other crew on board, guarding the ship while their captain was “busy.” As long as someone else could pilot it, I still had a chance of getting off-planet.

Then an even worse thought came to me. Gamble her ship away . . . Yong had said earlier. What if Nari took the ship as payment for Hye’s losses?

I had to get to the Red Azalea, fast.

I stepped into the restroom and let my Charm unravel. No more silk, pearls, and gold jewelry for me. I reverted to “Bora” form but gave myself spacer’s clothes and a flatter, more average face. I checked the mirror to make sure I looked unmemorable in every way.

Heart pounding, I sauntered out of the restroom, hoping no one would notice me . . .

. . . and walked smack into Yong. He grunted but didn’t budge an inch.

“Sorry!” I said automatically. I looked down at the floor as I quickly moved out of his way.

He stepped into my path and took my arm. “No, I’m the one who should apologize, miss,” he said. “Looks like you’re in a hurry.”

“Yes,” I said, my head still bent. “I’m running late. Must go.”

“That’s right,” he said. “You must go.” Then, in a much lower voice, he added, “Go while you can, Min.”

I stared up at him. He’d seen through my Charm!

“Fox or no fox,” he whispered, “you’re too young for this life. I’ll escort you out, while Nari is distracted.” He pointed toward the parlor entrance with his chin.

When we passed the bouncer at the door, Yong said to me loudly, “And don’t let me catch you in here ever again!” Then he made a show of pushing me outside.

The other bouncer didn’t even blink. He’d seen it all before.

I couldn’t exactly say thank you to Yong while he was throwing me out, but I did flash a grateful smile at him.

As I hurried down the street, the music from Nari’s dwindled behind me. It sounded harsh and jangly, and I couldn’t believe I’d ever liked it.

I thought of the graffiti I’d seen earlier and wished I had time to add and don’t drink the wine.

Following the spaceport directions I’d memorized previously, I broke into a run toward the Red Azalea’s dock. I now had some tip money in my pouch, but I had no idea whether it would be enough to buy my way on board. Too bad I hadn’t been able to squeeze a little more out of “Aunt Nari.”

A ship rose up before me in silhouette against the night sky, a squat freighter with stubby wings. I bet it was barely capable of atmospheric flight. Under the harsh overhead lights, it looked even more battered than its identifying photo in the kiosk. Still, I sighed in relief when I spotted the painted red azalea on its wing. I was that much closer to getting off Jinju and finding my brother.

Now I just needed a pilot.