Greythorne (Bloodleaf 2)

“I think I’ll make an exception just this one time. After all, ‘sobriety’ is just another word for ‘moderation.’” A smile spread across his face. “Unless you think you’ll lose to a beginner?”

“You removed the only thing of value I had left to my name when you took me aboard. Outside of that luneocite knife now sheathed on your belt, I’m destitute.”

“You have other things worth bargaining for,” he said. “Your hair, maybe. Or your heart.” He grinned, and I felt sure he was taunting me. “Your time.”

“My heart is taken,” I said. “And my time is short. In the gallery, they were playing for secrets or favors. The winner decides which it will be.”

He lifted his brows. “Deal.”

Halfway through the game, it became clear that I was outmatched. I had just played Clever Cassandra only to have him place the Hapless Traveler right on top of it. I took a deep breath for serenity, then confronted my smirking opponent with irritation. “You have played before, haven’t you?”

“I said I don’t play,” he replied. “Not that I don’t know how. But it was awfully kind of you to try to teach me.”

“You lied.”

> “I led you astray by confirming your own beliefs,” he said. “It’s different.”

“Shades of gray, and all that?” I asked, laying down the Angry Brother. Outside, the very first sounds of clamor were beginning to reach us through the door.

“Shades of gray,” Castillion replied. “Even this game is a testament to that philosophy.” He made a big show of placing his next card: the Daughter Defiant. “Betwixt and Between: neither one thing nor another.”

I slid my second-to-last card over to him. “Lady Loveless.” I leaned across the table, drumming my fingers on the pile of cards. “Your move.”

He eyed me. “And what move can I make now that won’t lose me the entire game? It seems as if you’ve got me backed into a corner, no way to get out.”

“The great Dominic Castillion, unsure of his path to victory?”

“It’s not my next move I’m unsure of,” he replied. “It’s yours.”

“Then make your play,” I said, “and find out.”

He sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. Then he threw his last card on the table. “The Two-Faced Queen.”

I glanced from the woman’s twin effigies to Castillion, who was still studying me. “Not bad,” I said. “Would you like to see my last card?”

He kept his eyes on me as he reached across the table to where my final play was already laid out, ready to be made. Slow and deliberate, he turned the card over.

“The Two-Faced Queen?” he asked in confusion. “But how did you come by the same card as me?”

As he said so, his card faded into Sad Tom.

He’d been too focused on outmaneuvering my moves to notice the drop of blood I’d drawn by sliding my finger down the side of a card, or the spell I’d cast by muttering under my breath. Whip-fast, I grabbed his wrists and slammed them to the top of the table. “Manere,” I said. Stay.

I took out the chunk of coal and reached over to grab my knife from his belt.

“Aurelia,” he said, and for the first time since meeting him, I heard anger in his voice, “don’t do this. You’re better than this.”

I leaned in close, close enough that I could feel the rough brush of the stubble on his chin. “That’s the thing,” I said softly. “I’m not. Shades of gray, and all that.”

The tip of my finger stung as I dug the knife into it and blood began to collect into a bead.

“I thought you said you couldn’t use blood magic anymore.”

“I led you astray by confirming your own beliefs.” As the orb of blood on my fingertip grew heavier, I said softly, “Right after the wall fell, many of the Achlevan lords argued against Zan’s reign. They said he was too merciful, and that made him weak.” I looked up at him. “And then you came through. Slaughtering villages. Capturing anyone who stood in your way. I wonder, now, what most of them think of Zan’s mercy.”

I shook my head, then continued, “I don’t know, truly, if mercy is a weakness. What I do know is that it is a trait that Zan and I do not share.”

The drop rolled from my fingertip and onto the chunk of coal, leaving tiny specks of red across the desk and the scattered playing cards when it hit and splashed. Then I put my hand over it and imagined the coal’s other half, waiting in the belly of the ship.