Zinc pushed him down into a hard chair.
“New player?” a woman said. She wore an extravagant red dress that sparkled in the dim light.
“D sent him.” Zinc said the words the same way two friends sharing an inside joke might speak.
The woman pursed her lips.
Another woman approached Zinc. She threw her arms around him and whispered something in his ear.
“In a minute. I’m working,” Zinc said.
Tahki’s legs were shaking. Everything about this felt wrong. He wanted to run. To be far away from Zinc and his smoke-filled den.
“You seem nervous,” Zinc said. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll do fine. This is a game of intelligence, and you seem very, very smart. Now you just watch those dice. Don’t take your eyes off them, you hear?”
Tahki watched. Each player had a gold ring about the width of an apple in front of them. Two larger silver rings were set in the center of the table. A man with a beard placed a paper note in the gold ring and then picked up two of the four dice in front of him. He tossed the dice into one of the silver rings.
“Gain one hundred,” the woman in red said. “And earn another throw.”
One die was marked with numbers, the other with symbols. He saw a few of the symbols on the sides: two doves, the letter V, a skull. The man picked up the other pair of dice in front of him and threw them in the empty silver ring.
“Gain one hundred. Earn double. Two hundred total gained,” the red woman said.
The man smiled and raised his cup of ale.
“See?” Zinc said. “Happy winners. My humble establishment is full of them.”
Zinc pushed new dice in front of Tahki. Tahki looked down at them like Zinc had placed a vial of poison in front of him instead.
“Dyraien will be very pleased you’ve won him something,” Zinc said. “And he always rewards those who please him.”
A woman with a thin pipe in her mouth reached over and placed the dice in Tahki’s hand. They felt heavier than the dice back home, smooth to the touch, made of bone or ivory.
“You said this was a game of intelligence,” Tahki said. “But it just seems like dumb luck.”
“Just roll the dice, kid.”
Suddenly, Tahki didn’t want to be holding them. He didn’t understand the game, the situation, these people. He wished Rye were here to tell him what to do.
He threw the dice into one silver ring. One landed on a three, the other a skull. Zinc let out a low whistle and popped his lips.
“Down fifty,” the red woman said.
“What does that mean?” Tahki said.
“It means,” Zinc said, “you’ll have better luck next roll. No one wins the first roll.”
“I lost?” Panic swept through him. His palms felt sweaty. He rubbed his wrist. The same set of dice appeared in his hands.
“You’re only down fifty notes. You still have a hundred and fifty more. Roll again. Trust me.”
Tahki shook his head. “I don’t think I should.” Zinc rested his hand on his hip. Tahki glanced over and saw a pistol strapped to his side. The man’s fingers traced over the leather grip.
“I think it would be best for you to roll,” Zinc said.
Tahki swallowed. He didn’t understand how Zinc had the nerve to threaten him. When Dyraien found out about this, Zinc would be thrown in prison. But then, Tahki realized the only way he’d be able to tell Dyraien is if he returned victorious. He couldn’t lose and go back with nothing or he’d be the one arrested.
Tahki flicked the dice onto the table.
“Down fifty,” the woman said.
Zinc handed him the dice. Tahki stared at them.
“I know you’ll win this next one,” Zinc said.
Tahki rolled the dice around his fingers. The symbol die felt heavy, but only on one side. Instead of rolling, he dropped the dice straight down.
They fell on a five and a skull.
He dropped them again.
Six and a skull.
Again.
Two and a skull.
“These dice are weighted,” Tahki said. He announced it loud, so the whole room would hear and know Zinc had cheated them.
The men and women around the table remained silent. No one stood up and shouted with outrage or disgust. They all drank their ale and shuffled their decks. Because they hadn’t been playing with weighted dice. Only Tahki had, and they’d all known.
Zinc sucked in a deep breath. “You have about two seconds to clean that dirty mouth of yours, or I’ll do it for you.”
Tahki stood. His whole body resonated with righteousness. He’d been clever enough to see through Zinc’s games. “You’re a cheat. When Dyraien finds out, he’ll be furious.”
“Kid, just accept your losses and leave,” Zinc said. Again, his fingers brushed his pistol.
“Best do what he says.” The red woman wiggled her fingers at him, and he noticed she was missing her ring finger. “He’s got a nasty little temper.”
Tahki hesitated and then said, “Just fill part of the order. What I have money for.”
Zinc looked at the woman in red. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Zinc sighed and leaned toward Tahki. “All right, kid. Since D is a good friend of mine, I’ll fill the order and you can be on your way.”
“Really?” Tahki said, surprised. “I mean, thank you.” He felt a surge of adrenaline at his victory. He followed Zinc to the materials room.
“Out,” Zinc told the old woman. She left in a hurry.
“Doesn’t she need to fill the order?” Tahki said.
A burst of stars appeared in his vision before he tasted the iron in his mouth. His hands slapped the floor when his body fell, and he spat out red. The only sound he heard for a moment was
