Blind God's bluff

time.

Not long after that little return trip to the mall ended, my head started pounding, and my guts cramped. My instincts told me it was a new attack, not a part of the hallucinations. My opponents could see that something was wrong with me-that I was vulnerable-and somebody was trying to hex me in a different way. Ignoring the jab of pain it brought, I visualized the Thunderbird, and the aches in my head and stomach faded. It was nice that my magic was still good for something.

But no protection when a flashback swallowed me again.

I could tell you a hundred shitty things about Afghanistan. But the hash was amazing. Maybe they mixed it with opium. Lying on my cot, I felt like I was floating, and so relaxed I was numb in a happy way.

Visions came and went. Corvettes from the fifties and sixties rolling slowly through the tent one at a time. Red roses growing up out of the dirt. Zebras with green stripes instead of black. Fantasy Fest in Key West, with all the topless girls in their beads and body paint.

I knew none of it was real. And it occurred to me that the craziest thing of all, my poker game with a bunch of monsters-like a painting of dogs playing poker, only even goofier-probably wasn’t, either.

I know: Just that afternoon, I’d told Gimble I didn’t have any trouble telling what was real and what wasn’t. But that was when my mind wasn’t under attack.

And despite the sad, scary things I’d seen there, maybe it was tempting to think Afghanistan was what was real. Because if it was, Dad was still alive and healthy, at least as far as I knew. Vic still loved me and was waiting for me to come home. I was still going to go to college and make everybody proud.

Evidently my attacker, whoever it was, could tell this was the hallucination that might actually crack me. He or she apparently wasn’t able to make it last any longer. But it started repeating over and over again.

The blissful what-me-worry high-the feeling that the poker game couldn’t be real-started to hang on even when I was seeing the ballroom. I had to stifle the urge to break out laughing. I wanted to go all in with garbage, get up, grab Leticia, and kiss her, or punch Wotan in his hairy, tattooed face, just to see what would happen.

Somehow, I kept it together. Until Queen’s mouth fell open in surprise. “My eggs,” she rasped.

Head bobbing, Gimble turned to her. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes, there’s a problem!” she said. “I adjusted my cycle. I shouldn’t be laying. Which of you did this to me?”

Nobody spoke up. I jerked in my seat and made a hiccupping noise as I struggled not to laugh.

“Do you forfeit?” Gimble asked. “It won’t reflect poorly on you. Not under these circumstances.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said. “No, I don’t forfeit. I just need my maids to attend me.”

Two females of Queen’s race came running. Although they weren’t very female. They were even skinnier than she was, with hardly any swell to their breasts and hips. They also looked very much alike.

Queen lifted herself up in her chair, and they slipped her long skirt and bloomers off. Then they hunkered down on the floor. One crawled underneath the table.

I thought again that all of this just had to be the hash running wild inside my brain.

“Where were we?” said Queen. “Oh, yes. Wotan, are you going to call, or what?”

It took him a second to answer. Maybe even he was having trouble wrapping his head around what was happening. But then he raised, and the game continued. And I kept popping back and forth between the ballroom and the tent.

Until Queen grunted, and her whole body tensed. A sliding, gurgling sound came from under the table, and then a gasp.

“What?” said Queen. “Let me see.”

The maid under the table must have passed the egg to the one who wasn’t, because the latter was the one who held it up for Queen to see. It was no bigger than a ping-pong ball, and a dirty-looking gray. Jelly seeped through several hairline cracks.

“Oh, my dear friend,” said Leticia. She was full of sympathy for everybody tonight. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” said Queen. “One or two are always bad.” She grunted and stiffened again.

The second egg looked just as spoiled and nasty as the first.

Like I mentioned before, the others respected the Pharaoh. They played as hard against him as they did against each another, but they mostly didn’t taunt or insult him. But now Queen jerked around and gave him a glare that managed to burn with hatred despite her blank inhuman eyes. “You did this!” she said.

“Why would you think so?” the mummy answered. Candlelight gleamed on the edges of the plastic splints.

“You know death magic and nec-” she began, and then I was in Afghanistan.

When I made it back to Tampa, he was talking. “-could resort to violence, I suppose. If you’re certain everyone else is convinced I actually did… tamper with you. And that a scuffle is advisable even in light of your delicate condition. I’m no authority on the biology of your species, but isn’t there a risk of losing an entire generation?”

Trembling, Queen kept glaring at him. He blew smoke in her direction.

Meanwhile, her little round shoes clicking on the floor, A’marie hurried over to us all. The tray in her hands held fluffy towels, washcloths, a basin, a pitcher, and a glass.

As she reached the table, she lurched off balance, and the tray tilted. Everything on it tumbled down on top of Leticia. The water drenched her perfect hairdo, makeup, and red silk gown. Startled, she cried out.

“I’m so sorry!” said A’marie. “I’m so sorry!” She snatched up one of the fallen towels and started wiping and dabbing at Leticia.

Until Leticia shoved her away hard enough to make her stagger three steps and fall on her butt. “You brainless freak!” the redhead snarled.

“I just wanted to help the lady Queen,” A’marie stammered. She shot me a glance and opened her hand just long enough to give me a peek at a waterlogged white handkerchief with a brown dot on it.

“Did anyone tell you to do that?” Leticia asked. “No? Then your punishment will be even more severe.” She stood up, and then I realized what was really going on.

Maybe I put the pieces together because I noticed the flashbacks had stopped, and the ballroom and the creatures in it felt real again. Or maybe it was magic intuition kicking in. Whatever it was, I was suddenly sure the spot on the hankie was my blood.

Gimble had jabbed me on purpose, and the point on his hand had drawn and held my blood like a syringe. Then he’d passed it to Leticia, who used it to voodoo me. The blood amped her power to where the Thunderbird couldn’t block it.

A’marie had figured out what was happening, then created a distraction and an excuse to climb all over Leticia and grab the handkerchief out of her lap. And now Leticia was threatening to hurt her if she didn’t give it back, although she couldn’t say it in so many words with everybody else listening.

I still felt shaky, but I jumped up anyway. “Hold it,” I said.

Leticia looked around at me. “I’m sorry if this distresses you. I can see how it might, especially if you’re not feeling well. And I’ll be happy to discipline the thrall elsewhere, so you won’t have to watch. But she does need correction.”

“It doesn’t matter what she needs,” I said. “She doesn’t belong to you. She’s Timon’s, and at this table, I’m him. So it’s my job to punish her.”

I had no idea whether the Old People’s traditions really backed up what I was saying. But I had picked up on the fact that to a certain extent, the rules meant what you wanted them to mean. You just needed to say so with style and attitude. And come across like enough of a badass that it wasn’t worth it for anyone else to disagree.

Right then, I didn’t feel like much of a badass. But at least I was in control of my own head again, and the head was Leticia’s specialty. So maybe it would make her think twice.

She gave me a pleading look, and those bright green eyes sucked me in. “Please. You don’t understand. I need to be the one to do it. To regain my dignity, and the status I’ve lost in my eyes of my peers.”

Damn, but I wanted to say yes! I didn’t forget what she’d done to me, but it was almost like it didn’t matter. But not quite. I pictured the Thunderbird hanging between us, blocking out her beauty, and then I was okay.