“The last card is your path forward. The eight of roses,” Genevieve continued.
“Thank y—” Cirrus started to say, but Kalen was done with the cards.
“Excuse me. Where did you get that?” Kalen pointed to the chest.
“It was given in payment for a favor,” Genevieve said as she lifted the three cards and placed them on top of the deck. She separated the deck into two piles and then shuffled the cards together.
“Can you tell us more about it?” Kalen asked. “Where did it come from?”
“I’m afraid that will require additional coin.”
Cirrus handed over several more.
“Let me see where it has been.” She held the chest in her open palms and appeared lost in thought. “I’m seeing a mountain range and a cliff-top city. Servaille, I believe. Hot springs. A monastery. A vast library and catacombs. A crystal held in a monk’s hands. Sadness. Fear. Loss of control. Travel. Given away quickly.”
“To whom?” Kalen asked.
“That I can’t tell you.”
“Do you know when the crystal was removed?” Kalen asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve told you the story the chest has to tell.”
“Have you heard of any magicked items in Antioege?”
“There have been stories of objects, but I have yet to see any in action or in person.”
Luna leaned in. “What about the monk? Where did he disappear to?”
Genevieve’s shoulders lifted in a nonresponse.
“She’s not as helpful as was promised,” Luna muttered to Cirrus and stood. “I’ll figure it out another way then.”
Cirrus joined her. “Thank you for your time and the reading.” He nudged the other two toward the exit. They stepped out of the tent into the glaring noon of the city as light reflected off all the glass buildings. The prince and Luna joined Kalen on either side, and they walked away from the tent toward the city center.
“Servaille, huh?” Luna said. “Is that our next stop?”
“I have the tournament tonight. Let’s see what we can figure out before then, or while we’re there. I’d like more information before trekking into the mountains.” Kalen didn’t mind the cold, but the route would take days, even on horseback.
“I’ll see if I can get more information on the monk. I’m sure he’s the one who gave Genevieve the chest. Perhaps he’s still in the city.” Luna raised her hood against the sunlight. “I’ll meet you back at the inn shortly.”
Kalen knew when he saw her again she’d have answers.
Back at the inn, Cirrus was hungry yet again, so they stopped in the mostly empty dining hall. Cirrus ordered the fish of the day, and Kalen asked for tea. Kalen leaned back in his chair to get a better line of sight to the door, in case the black-eyed man appeared.
“Been having nightmares?” Kalen cracked his knuckles through his gloves.
“What? No. Do you mean why I stayed out last night? I just didn’t feel like encroaching on you two and your alone time.”
Kalen snorted. “You know there’s nothing between Luna and me.”
Cirrus smirked over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. “You want me to believe you were never interested?”
“Believe me, we make a much better team when we’re not distracted by any romantic misgivings.” They had kissed only once. Kalen still remembered how awkward it had been. Luna had pushed him up against the outer wall of the Milked Goat and grabbed his shoulders. On tiptoe, she smashed her mouth into his. It was a chaotic meeting of teeth and tongue and frantic hands that resulted in … well, nothing. They’d both agreed to forget it had ever happened.
“So, she’s free then?”
Kalen almost fell out of his chair. “Free? Yes. Good luck with that, though!”
Cirrus’s food arrived, and he speared a bite of the flaky fish. He exaggerated his ability to keep his mouth closed as he chewed. “You don’t think I could win her over?”
“She hates you.”
“No, she hates the idea of me. I’m royalty, but I’ll get her to like me—just you watch.”
Kalen shook his head.
“I’ll even make a wager.” Cirrus leaned over.
“For what?”
Cirrus held out a hand. “Your flickerfly ring.”
Now that was a dagger to the throat. One of his most valuable possessions, even though he never wore it. The ring was a constant source of light in the darkness. He could see why Cirrus would want it.
“Your jeweled short sword.” Kalen didn’t want it, but he knew Cirrus would have difficulty parting with the ostentatious piece.
“Deal.”
Before Kalen returned to the topic of Cirrus’s sleep habits, a voice spoke behind him.
“What are you two betting on?” Out of seemingly nowhere, Luna appeared, this time with a boy at her side. He looked about ten years old with black hair cut close to his scalp. Dark brown eyes contrasted with his pale skin. He appeared to be a stranger to the sunlight.
“He’s a little young to be a monk,” Cirrus was quick to point out.
“This is Robert.” Luna put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Kalen wasn’t sure if it was meant to reassure the kid or to keep him from bolting. “He’s a ward of the local clergy.”
Kalen took in his plain brown clothes and gaunt frame and guessed him to be an orphan. The boy scooted into the chair next to Cirrus and waved his hand for Luna and Robert to take the open seats. “Sit and eat.” He called Adelaide over and asked for bread and fruit.
As soon as the tray appeared, Robert dunked a chunk of bread in oil and herbs and stuck it in his mouth. He didn’t even swallow before grabbing another piece.
“He had some interesting things to say about one of the monks who came down from Servaille,” Luna said. “Robert, why don’t you tell my friends what happened?”
Robert’s wide eyes flitted from one of them to the next. “It was maybe six months ago. He came into town seeking refuge. The clerics allowed him in, but soon regretted it.”
“Why?” Cirrus asked.
“He acted crazy. Hair half-yanked out of his head on one side, like he’d been grabbing fistfuls on his entire journey. Said he heard a girl singing in the catacombs, and she made him fall in love with her.”
Kalen and Cirrus glanced at one another. Cirrus took a last bite of vegetables and pushed his plate to the side. The boy eyed the remaining fish, and Cirrus nodded for him to eat it.
“Thank you,” Robert said over a mouthful as he took a massive bite.
“You look like you need it.” Cirrus leaned back and crossed his arms. “About the girl…”
“He called her an angel or a devil, depending on his mood as he described her. This went on for weeks. The clerics tried to give him herbs to calm him, but he wouldn’t take them. They finally requested that he leave—he was too disruptive.”
“What is his name?” Kalen asked.
“Brother Gabriel.” Robert paused and swallowed. “Now just Gabriel.”
“Is he still in town?”
Robert nodded. “He barricades himself in his house. Boards up all the windows. Deliveries are given through a series of doors so nobody can get near him. He only comes out to play cards as a way to pay his bills. Once every three weeks, except he’s making an exception to play in the tournament tonight.”
“Tournament?” Kalen lifted his eyebrows at Luna. “What does this monk look like?”
“Patchy blond hair. Not very tall. Still dresses in his robes.”
“Perfect. Thank you for all your help.” It was nice for once to have a responsive subject to interrogate. He tossed Robert several coins and stood. “If you’re ever in trouble, find Captain Belrose and tell him it’s a favor for the Questioner.”
Robert stared at them wide-eyed.
“And feel free to finish the food.”
The boy gripped his fork tight and shoveled several bites in his mouth, as if expecting Kalen to rescind his offer.
THE WATER GLINTED gold in the late afternoon sun, and the air felt heavy on the back of Kalen’s neck. They stood on a walkway across from town hall, staring at the royal amphitheater. Massive and made entirely of glass, but for the occasional support beam keeping it upright. Even the floor was glass. The tiles were inlaid with flickerflies, so the large room was lit from below. The frantic movement of the insects kept the pale blue glow steady.
They assessed the building from afar, looking for exits and trying to determine how the seating would be arranged. Kalen laid out the plan. “Cirrus, I need you to get in there and find a way to get ex-brother Gabriel and me at the same table. I will try to keep him in the game until we move to the head table, but if he is losing, I’ll make sure to lose, too, so we can exit at the same time. Luna, you need to scope out the building. Find any possible exits. Also, keep an eye on the stands. Be on the lookout for any other magicked items and notice any agitation or changes in mood in the crowd.” He paused and brushed the key at his neck. “We need answers tonight.”
The duo made their way to the center pier, jostled their way through the ever-growing crowd, and split apart. Kalen approached the front door, strolled to the main table, and tossed them his coin. There were forty players spread over five tables, and once each table was down to two players, those would advance to a final table to determine the champion.
The woman directed Kalen to the last table where it sat on the far edge of the main floor. He walked past the tables, eyeing the other players. There he was. Patchy blond hair tied at the nape of his neck. He wore a drab gray robe and pants, loose fitting, as if he couldn’t quite give up his role at the monastery.
And he sat right across the table from Kalen, watery eyes staring at the hands he twisted. Cirrus had done his part— whether it had cost him coins or a few minutes of flirting, Kalen didn’t know.
The best player at the table was no doubt the troll-like male sitting directly opposite him. He had an expressionless face that would offer no tells. The player at Kalen’s right would be out first but most likely would stick around to watch the play, especially since he reveled in talking. Gabriel kept twisting his hands and continually looked around the room, seemingly in a heightened state of anxiety.
The dealer passed out the first hand, and the table quieted. Kalen watched the other players examine their cards, noting any facial movements, tics, and gestures. Play passed to Kalen, and he barely deigned to glance at his cards before tossing four onto the table. Without anyone increasing the bet, it didn’t much matter if he won or lost, just as long as he kept close to Gabriel’s stack. He needed to lose at the same time so they could leave together or stay winning with him to the end.
Play continued over several hands. Two of the players dropped out, and Kalen held back from attempting to win further hands as Gabriel came precariously close to losing the last of his chips. Sweat beaded on the man’s forehead, and his pale cheeks turned red as he contemplated his latest hand. He laid his cards down and cracked each finger on his right hand and then his left.
“It’s your turn, sir,” the dealer said.
“Fine.” He piled his remaining coins in the middle of the table and nearly collapsed onto it. His elbows caught the edge, and his hands supported his chin.
Kalen readied himself to leave the table if Gabriel lost. He waited with bated breath for the cards to turn over.
Suddenly a voice carried through the crowd.
“Grab that man!”