He shook me at them like I was a piece of paper and started dragging me toward the door. I fought back as best I could, but it’s hard to dig your heels into stone, and in the end I couldn’t do anything except bump along behind him, frantically reaching for the bloody magic I was no longer strong enough to control.
Chapter 14
Kauffman marched me straight back through the mine to the elevator. I fought him the whole way, but it was more of a principle thing than a real resistance. I couldn’t stop him, and even if I could, I had nowhere to go. My father was gone, my god was gone, Nik was who knew where, and White Snake was pinned down by a firing squad. Even Sibyl couldn’t help me. The moment we were inside the elevator, Kauffman ripped my goggles and earpiece off my head and shoved them into my bag, which he’d also commandeered, slinging the huge utility sack onto his own shoulder as we shot up out of the ground toward the arena above.
The magic thickened as we rose. I’d thought it was strong downstairs, but that was nothing compared to the pulsing, screaming power waiting for me when the elevator finally dinged at the ground floor. Kauffman must have felt it, too, because his face was strained with more than just the effort of dragging me as we made our way down one of the narrow, spellwork-covered hallways to a door that looked exactly like the one on the Gameskeeper’s office.
I was so turned around by that point, I assumed that was where we were going. When Kauffman kicked the door open, though, the room inside was totally different. The Gameskeeper’s office had looked like a command center. This looked like a honeymoon suite.
The only word for it was “gaudy.” The carpet was crushed red velvet while the ceiling was so white you could see every smudge and speck of dust. Between these two extremes were walls covered in a golden pattern so busy, it made the room feel half the size it actually was.
The furniture was picked to match, including a white-and-gold couch covered in a designer-logo print, a black marble entertainment center that was way too large for the room, and a solid glass coffee table designed to look like it was floating. Through the far door, I could see a bedroom with more of the same gimmicky, empty-statement pieces. None of it looked practical or useful or even comfortable. Its only purpose was to show everyone how rich you were. I saw stuff like this all the time when I Cleaned Skyway apartments, and I wasn’t shocked in the least to see it in Kauffman’s rooms.
The only thing that did surprise me was that the fake oil paintings (actually textured prints) on the walls were of tigers and cityscapes instead of naked women. I was about to ask if Kauffman had a velvet smoking jacket to go with the rest of his casino vibe when he threw me down on the one spot of carpet that wasn’t crammed with ugly furniture.
“Oof,” I grunted as I landed facedown on the red velvet, which wasn’t nearly as plushy as it looked. “Could you not?”
“Given what you and Nikki did to my face in the Gnarls, you deserve much worse,” Kauffman said, rising up on his toes to shove my work bag into the gap between the stone entertainment center and the ceiling. When he’d pushed it as far out of my reach as possible, he walked over to pour himself a drink from the laser-cut mahogany sideboard cabinet, his fingers tapping the overpriced liquor bottles in time with the pulses of magic that rolled through the air.
Which gave me an idea.
“Why are you working for the Gameskeeper?” I asked, rolling onto my back. “The spellwork in the hallways is yours, right? Not to puff your head up, but it’s incredible stuff. You could get a job at any multinational you wanted with skills like that. Why are you wasting your time down here?”
“Because the Gameskeeper gives me more than a corporation ever could,” Kauffman replied, taking care to spill a bit of his drink on my face as he stepped over me to take a seat on the ugly couch. “He found me as a child, same as Nikki. Unlike Kos, though, I knew a good thing when I saw it. I never left, and the Gameskeeper rewards loyalty.” He waved his hand at the overdecorated room. “I build his spells and keep track of his magical projects, and in return he gives me whatever I want. Money, women, heads on platters, anything. That’s better than even the DFZ can boast, and I don’t even have to become a priest!” He flashed me a smirk. “Jealous?”
“Hardly,” I said with a flat look. “The DFZ’s not perfect, but at least she’s not evil. You work for a dark god of bloodlust!”
“Says the girl who calls a man-eating monster ‘Daddy,’” Kauffman replied in a mocking voice, putting his feet up on the glass coffee table above my head so that I was forced to stare at his shoes. “You know, I’m not surprised to hear you ended up with the DFZ. For a city who’s supposed to embody survival of the fittest, she has an astonishing love of the untalented and the sloppy. So many Shamans.” He shuddered. “It’s a miracle this whole place hasn’t collapsed.”
I scowled, but Kauffman had turned his attention away, hitting a button on his remote to open the entertainment center and reveal the giant flat-screen TV inside. Not surprisingly, the screen was already set to the arena feed when it flicked on. The undercard fights were just wrapping up, but while the announcers were frantically hyping what was coming next,
