Castle of Deception bt-1 Read online

  “Hey! Tich’ki, give that back!”

  The fairy ignored him, dropping the pouch into Lydia’s hands. Kevin hurried after her.

  “Lydia! Come back here’ Where are you going? What are you—Lydia!”

  He stopped, staring up at the building blocking his path. Where in the world ... ? A temple? Oh yes, such an overblown stone and plaster monstrosity couldn’t be anything but a temple! Kevin glanced briefly up at the busy, brightly painted facade. Over the door was an ornately carved and gilded relief of a very smug group of merchants kneeling in prayer. Praying to whom? In this city, the bardling thought drily, it could only be the Great God Money!

  Ach, no, that wasn’t nice. Besides, the last thing he could afford right now was getting Heavenly Powers angry at him!

  Tich’ki didn’t have any such qualms. She vanished into the temple with such an evil titter that Kevin stared after her, particularly when Lydia chuckled and followed.

  Oh Powers, they’re going to rob the temple, I know it. How can I possibly stop them before—

  But Lydia strode boldly down the length of the vast inner chamber without pause, her boot heels clicking on the smooth stone floor Ignoring the busy religious murals on walls and columns (at least Kevin assumed they were religious murals), ignoring the few worshippers and the gaudy gilded shrine (the bardling still couldn’t figure out to whom the temple was sacred), she pulled aside a curtain shrouding the far wall. revealing a tiny door. The woman rapped on it three times, then two, then three again, and Kevin cried in sudden comprehension:

  “You’ve been here before!”

  Lydia grinned. “The boy’s a genius! How do you think I found the livery stable and Grakka’s shop so easily?”

  “Oh.” Feeling exceedingly stupid, the bardling muttered, “Of course.”

  The door swung open soundlessly. “Come on, kid,” Lydia said—”Churches are always where the money is. Let’s go.”

  Kevin warily followed her down a short flight of stairs. He paused halfway down, glancing about.

  The room at the bottom of the steps was small and windowless, but elegant enough, with walls and tables of sleekly polished wood. It was full of people sitting at or standing around those tables, some of them so richly —or gaudily—clad the bardling’s eyebrows rose in surprise. The only sounds were the faint rustle of cards, the clink of coins, and an occasional sigh or smothered oath.

  “This is a gambling house!” Kevin exclaimed, feeling a wicked little thrill of excitement run through him. They hardly had this sort of thing back in Bracklin! “Lydia, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Earning us some funds.”

  “B-but those are the only coins we’ve got left! If you lose them ...”

  Lydia shrugged. “Whatever the Fates decree.” As a man threw down his hand and stalked off in disgust, the woman flopped down onto the vacant chair. “What’s the game?”

  No one even glanced up. “Five-card Tarot,” someone muttered. “Pentacles wild.”

  “Fine.” To Kevin’s horror, she dumped all his coins out on the table in front other. “I’m in.”

  The bardling had no idea what the rules of Five-card Tarot might be. He’d never even heard of the game before! Chewing anxiously on his lower lip, he watched as Lydia thoughtfully kept or discarded the brightly colored cards, or glanced every now and then at her equally pensive fellow players: three middle-aged human men and an elven half-blood of indeterminate age and gender. With each round, the bardling saw with a shudder, more and more of his precious coins were added to the pot.

  “I’m out,” one of the humans muttered suddenly, throwing down his cards and leaving. The others never even noticed. After another hand:

  “Me, too,” said the half-elf with a shrug, vanishing into the crowd.

  Lydia and the two remaining men never flickered an eyelash. One of the men, Kevin noted, was a bushy-bearded fellow in somber red robes, while the other was a thin, clean-shaven man, smooth of skin and dressed in an elegant tunic of blue velvet, but they were alike in their impassive concentration. The game went on, cards being selected, discarded. The pile of coins in the center of the table grew ever larger.

  If she loses now, the bardling thought with a shudder, we’ll have nothing left!

  But without warning, Lydia threw down her hand with a cry of triumph.

  “There! Be at that!”

  Kevin saw that the cards she’d been holding were the King, Queen, Knight and Page of Swords, and the Five of Wands. It was obviously a good hand, because Bushy Beard and Smooth Skin threw down their cards in disgust. Smiling sweetly, Lydia raked in the pot

  “Come on!” Kevin whispered. “We’ve got our money back. Let’s get out of here!”

  “Are you joking?” she whispered back. “That’s not enough to bribe anyone! Besides, I’ve just begun.”

  “What do you mean? Lydia, if you lose—”

  “I’m not going to lose—All right, gentlemen,” the woman added in a bright voice. “Shall we try one more time?”

  Bushy Beard and Smooth Skin grumbled. But to Kevin’s horror, they agreed. This time, as the winner of the last round, Lydia was the dealer, sending the cards flashing out in neat, colorful piles to the other players. “Same stakes?”

  “Same stakes,” they muttered, almost as one.

  She’s going to lose. I know she’s going to lose. We won’t have a coin left and—Oh, I knew it! Bushy Beard impassively raked in his winnings.

  “Lydia!” Kevin whispered frantically. “That’s enough! Let’s get out of here while we still have something left!”

  “Hush. One more round, gentlemen?”

  Smooth Skin nodded. Bushy Beard, fingering his winnings, was slower to agree.

  “All right,” he muttered at last.

  Lydia smiled. “But we’ve been playing a kid’s game so far. How about some real risks, eh? Major Arcana and double stakes, this rime? And winner takes all?”

  Both men hesitated this time. Then Bushy Beard shrugged. “Why not?”

  “What about you, my friend?” Lydia crooned.

  Smooth Skin sighed. “All right. But just this one hand. I have ... other engagements.”

  “We’ll try not to keep you too long,” Lydia said drily.

  Fuming and terrified, Kevin watched Bushy Beard shuffle the entire deck this time, Major and Minor Arcana together, and deal out the bright-hued cards. Fists clenched, he watched Lydia thoughtfully pick up then discard card after card, her face a studious blank.

  “Raise,” she said after a while, pushing a few coins towards the center of the table.

  “Raise,” echoed Smooth Skin, doing the same.

  Bushy Beard hesitated a long time, but at last added his share of coins.

  The game went on. And on. Each time it was Lydia’s turn, she studied her cards for a time, then called out:

  “Raise.”

  That’s the last of our winnings! Kevin realized. If she loses this hand, we’ll be beggared!

  It was Smooth Skin who hesitated this time, hand toying with the coins in front of him. “Raise,” he said at last.

  Bushy Beard swore under his breath. “Too rich for me,” he muttered, throwing down his cards and stalking away.

  Lydia smiled. “Show ‘em,” she said.

  Smooth Skin showed his teeth in a sharp grin. “Beat this.”

  He held The Emperor. The Empress, The Fool, The Knight of Swords and The Five of Wands.

  “Interesting.” Lydia’s voice was grim.

  She’s lost, I know she’s lost. We’re lost.

  But then the woman’s gloomy face broke into a grin. “What a shame you didn’t have another Major Arcana card! Beatllis!”

  Her hand held The Magician, The Hanged Man, The Sun, The Tower, and The Lovers.

  All Major Arcana cards. Does that mean ...?

  it did. With a snarl. Smooth Skin got to his feet and stormed off, leaving Lydia to rake in the entire pot.

  “Now can we please g
et out of here?” Kevin asked, sure Smooth Skin was going to return with thugs.

  “Hey, kid, 1 know when to quit!” Lydia paused just long enough to make the bardling’s heart race, then grinned. “And now, my friend, is definitely the time!”

  Only when they were outside and halfway down the block did it occur to Kevin that he hadn’t seen Tich’ki since they’d entered the temple. As though just thinking of her was enough to conjure her up, the fairy suddenly appeared at his side, wings fluttering, grinning her feral grin and waving a colorful piece of parchment

  “Wait a minute,” Kevin said. “That’s a tarot card!”

  “Two points to the clever lad with the lute!”

  “But—Let me see that!” The bardling snatched the card from Tich’ki’s hand before she could dart away. “This is one of the cards from the deck Lydia was using! It’s The High Priestess, one of the Major Ar—Ha! No wonder that man couldn’t get all the Major Arcana cards! Lydia, you were cheating}”

  “Shh! You want the guards after us?”

  “But—but—you were! You and Tich’ki were in it together, weren’t you? What did you do, Tich’ki? Use fairy magic so no one would notice you? That’s it, isn’t it? You looked at the other players’ hands and slipped Lydia the right cards—You were both cheating!”

  Lydia stopped. Placing her hands firmly on the bardling’s shoulders, she told him, “My naive young friend, what did you think the others were doing? Hell, boy, we were all cheating, I realized that from the first hand! I just cheated better, that’s all.” Grinning, she released him. “You know who those two men were? The fellow with the beard—well, I don’t remember his name; it’s been a while. But he is a very successful gem merchant. The other one, the beardless guy, hasn’t changed much at all. His name is Selden, and he sits on the city council. Neither one of them are going to miss what we took from them!”

  “You Stole from a city official!”

  “He’s not going to let anyone know he was—let’s see, how does the formal term go?—participating in an illicit gambling operation. Come on, Kevin: smile! We’ve got our funding back, and more. Now let’s go bribe ourselves somebody useful.”

  But just then an angry voice shouted, “There she is! That’s the woman who robbed me! Guards, after her!”

  “Oh, right,” Kevin said sarcastically. “He’s not going to let anyone know.”

  And then he and Lydia were running for their lives.

  Chapter XI

  As the guards charged, Tich’ki leaped straight up into the air, wings a blur. “See you later!”

  She darted off at top speed as Kevin and Lydia raced through the crowded streets of Westerin, weaving in and out of knots of people, the guards’ heavy footsteps pounding behind them. The air rang with cries of “Thieves! Stop them!” But no one even tried to block their path.

  Of course not! Kevin realized. Nobody wants to risk getting involved!

  “This way!” Lydia gasped, pointing to a narrow alley.

  But Kevin stumbled to a stop, staring. In there^ The place stank! It was filthy with piles of garbage and who knew what else. Worse, it also looked like a dead end!

  He almost hesitated too long. “Got him!” a guard yelled. A rough hand grabbed at the bardling’s arm, nearly pulling the lute from his back. Kevin kicked out savagely and heard a grunt of pain. The guard lost his hold, and the bardling dove into the alley.

  Wonderful. Now rveassatiUedacitygtwrd.Ju^wcmder^

  Trying not to breathe too deeply, he raced after Lydia, struggling to keep his footing on the slippery, muddy earth, telling himself the puddles he couldn’t help splashing through were water, only water.

  None of it seemed to bother the guards. They came pounding after him, swearing, armor and weapons dashing as they ran.

  “Kevin!” Lydia whispered, snatching at him.

  Where did she think she was going? That didn’t even qualify as an alley! It was only a—a crevice, a space where the backs of two buildings didn’t quite meet.

  “Come on, Kevin!”

  Well, if she could fit ...

  The bardling hurried in after her, trying not to let his lute bang against a wall. How weird! None of the houses in this area seemed to meet exactly, and as a result there was a whole little maze of not-quite alleys back here. He hoped the woman knew where she was going, because if she didn’t, they were going to wind up good and lost—

  Lydia stopped so suddenly Kevin nearly crashed into her. She held up a hand, listening. “Damn!”

  “They’re still after us.”

  “Right. They don’t usually follow anyone in here. Must be an election year.” The woman shrugged. “We’ll have to try something else.’’

  She started off again. Kevin, who had just barely caught his breath, groaned and followed. They suddenly came out into a wider way, the back alley of a street of shops. The bardling noticed the rickety piles of storage crates and barrels and thought in sudden inspiration, What if ...?

  “Lydia, wait!”

  He pointed. She stared, then grinned in comprehension. “You’re catching on fast, kid!”

  As the guards charged out into the alley, they yelled to see their prey standing as if winded, leaning helplessly against a wail. “There they are! Take them!”

  But the boy kicked at a crate and the woman at a barrel, and a whole avalanche of crates and barrels came thundering down, nearly burying the guards and totally blocking the alley.

  “That does it!” Lydia crowed. “Let’s get out of here before they can dig themselves out.”

  The small, open square might have been grand at one rime, but Westerin had grown out and away from it long years back. Now it was a shabby little place, cobblestones cracked and broken where they hadn’t been stolen outright. In the center of the square stood a fountain so chipped and worn Kevin guessed water hadn’t flowed in it since Westerin had been founded.

  Its rim made a fine place for two fugitives to sit and catch their breach. “No sign of the guards,” Lydia said after a time, “Guess they finally lost us.”

  “What do you suppose happened to Tich’ki?”

  Lydia shrugged. “She can take care of herself. No one’s going to find a fairy who doesn’t want to be found!” She glanced at Kevin. “That idea with the barrels was pretty clever. How’d you think of it?’’

  “I didn’t,” the bardling confessed. “I remembered it from an adventure ballad.”

  “Ha! Looks like music’s good for something more than just pretty notes!”

  Oh no, he wasn’t going to fall into her trap. Biting back his indignant reply, Kevin asked instead, “Where are we, Lydia?”

  The woman glanced about. “Pretty much where we want to be. In the..—shall we say ... less elegant section of town. The section that every city has, where the guards don’t go too often and never alone, and where no one asks too many questions.” At his raised eyebrow, the woman added jauntily, “Just trying to talk like a proper Bard!”

  I will not let her bait me! “ In other words, we’re in the slums.”

  “Exactly. Just the spot for a few carefully placed bribes.”

  “Here?”

  “Of course here. You don’t find the weasels and rats we need in palaces!”

  “What’s to keep those rats from calling the guards?”

  Lydia laughed. “The kind of folks we’re going to meet are hardly going to be on the best of terms with guards. They’re not going to call ‘em down on us.”

  “Sure. Just like that city official wouldn’t.” “Huh! This adventure’s turning you too cynical, kid! Come on, let’s go rat-hunting.”

  The first tavern was small and crowded, and stank of stale beer and staler humanity. But at least, Kevin thought warily, the men inside looked reasonably normal: sweaty, thick-set laborers and dock workers who’d stopped in for a quick drink.

  Lydia shook her head in disapproval. “This won’t do. Too honest Come on.”

  The second tavern hid in the basement of a
half-collapsed tenement It was so dark in there that for one nervous moment Kevin, poised on the top of a short, rickety stairway, couldn’t see anything at all. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he swallowed drily. This cluster of men and ... not-quite humans lurking down there in the shadows couldn’t have had anything honest to them at all.

  “Better,” muttered Lydia, her busy eyes checking out the clientele and scouring out possible escape routes at the same time. “Stay here.”

  She moved easily through the crowd, stopping a moment here to ask a question or two, slapping away a roving hand there, never losing her smile or her patience.