by Sarah Fine
Then his eyes met Ernie’s. “Gabe. You usually travel light, but I see you decided to check a bag this time.”
Ernie’s brow furrowed. “Hi? I’m Ernie. And you’re kinda rude.”
“This is Ernie Terwilliger,” said Gabe, sounding aggrieved. “Ernie, this is Minh, Dealer of the Pot-Bellied Pig.”
“Ter-will-i-ger,” Minh said slowly, his head tilting as he gazed toward the city. “Interesting name.”
“The Diamondback deck is split,” said Gabe. “Ernie has half of it.”
Minh gave Ernie an appraising look. “You sure you want to go down this road?”
“Which road are you talking about?”
“Dealing is a dangerous business.”
“So is dying.”
Minh smiled. “Gabe wants me to come and help you, yes? He actually thinks I owe him a favor.”
“And you think you owe him a grenade,” said Ernie. “The subtext isn’t that subtle.”
Gabe chuckled and moved a step closer to Ernie. “Will you help us take down Duncan?”
“No.”
Gabe’s jaw clenched. “You’ve been waiting for a chance like this for decades.”
“I like to win, Kestrel.” Minh eyed Ernie. “I don’t like to back a lame horse.”
“Whoa, dude,” said Ernie. “Help us or not, but don’t call me lame. Without your cards, I bet I could run you into the ground.”
“He’s after the Marks, Minh,” said Gabe, stepping between them. “You know what he wants.”
Minh opened his mouth to reply, but Ernie got there first. She poked Gabe’s arm. “I think it’s high time you enlightened me with a few specifics.”
“You know what the Marks are for?” asked Minh.
Ernie nodded. She didn’t exactly feel like sharing her experience with them, though. “You call in a favor from the Forger.”
“You summon the Forger,” Minh replied. “You gain access to him. Do you know who he is?”
“Seems more like a trickster god than the devil himself, if you ask me,” Ernie grumbled. “But he’s obviously got some special powers.”
“He’s not a god, though,” said Gabe. “Like us, he can be killed.”
“I thought you guys were immortal!”
“We’re not invincible, though,” Minh explained. “As I’m sure you realized after just a few hours in the Kestrel’s presence.”
Gabe glared at the other Dealer. “What he’s trying—and failing—to say, Ernie, is that although the Forger is powerful, far more powerful than we are, he’s not completely invulnerable. He was once a Dealer, too.”
“And he got promoted?”
“He’s never said exactly how he got the crown, but knowing him, I’m guessing it involved trickery and violence,” said Minh. “And there are legends, myths about what happened before. Stories of Dealers defeating the Forger.”
“And if Andy is defeated, guess who would take the crown?” asked Gabe.
“Oh my god,” whispered Ernie, suddenly understanding Gabe’s determination to keep the Marks away from Duncan. “That would totally suck.”
“Sucking sounds fun compared to what would happen,” said Minh. He no longer looked all nonchalant and loose. Now he looked grim. “If Duncan takes down the Forger, imagine what he could do to this world.” He tossed his beer bottle away, and it disappeared midair. “Fine. I’ll help. But you owe me a formal favor after this. Do we understand each other?”
“Mercenary.” Gabe rolled his eyes. “Follow when you’re ready.”
“Will do,” said Minh, who whipped out a card and disappeared.
Ernie looked up at Gabe. “What kind of favor is he going to ask of you?”
Gabe looked spent, like he badly needed a night off—which he wasn’t going to get anytime soon. “Whatever it is, it’ll be worth it if we get you through this and save the world, right?”
Ernie didn’t know whether to feel touched or worried by that particular pronouncement, so she just followed him back to the bike, noticing the slump in Gabe’s shoulders and the heaviness of his steps. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “I really appreciate your help,” she said. “And I’m sorry I was a grump earlier.”
Gabe tensed as her arms loosened around him, but then he put his hand over hers, holding it against his body. “You don’t deserve this,” he said. “I can’t fix the past, but I can do the right thing now.” Then he pulled a few cards and drew them into darkness.
When they appeared in the driveway of the house, the place was dark. Quiet. Yet the trees seemed to be leaning in, almost blocking out the sight of the stars. As Ernie got off the bike and removed her helmet, chills ran up her back. “Gabe,” she said quietly. “Is Minh already here?”
“What do you sense?” he asked, looking around.
“Just . . . I don’t know. Would Duncan come back and try to get the Marks?”
“Fair play,” Gabe said, his serious expression melting into a grin. “This is very good.” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the house, which was when she noticed that the barrier was gone. Terror bolted through her, and she pulled back.
Gabe kept a firm grip on her hand. “It’s okay, love. Come on.”
“But that was our protection!”
“That’s the way a player might protect herself, but a Dealer?” As they climbed the porch steps, he pulled his deck from the inside pocket of his motorcycle jacket. He kissed it, and three cards slid upward and fluttered into the palm of his right hand. Ernie recognized all of them from past encounters—Ally, Friend, and Revelation. He flipped them onto his fingers and sliced them through the air.
Ernie gasped as the house lit up like a firefly party on a summer night. Laughter and voices trickled out from within. “Who is that?”
“Like I said, you’ll see.” He knocked three times and opened the door.
The house had been transformed, more or less. Her mother’s display cases had been pushed to the walls, and the center of the front parlor was now occupied by three couches with deep cushions surrounding the old fireplace, which had a merry fire crackling within. A square coffee table in the center of the couches was laden with trays of food and drinks.
Three of the five people sitting on the couches were complete strangers. Ernie recognized Minh and—“You were in the backyard this morning,” Ernie blurted out. On the couch to the left of the fireplace sat the tall, lean guy with black hair who had been smoking out there. He was sitting next to a woman with dark brown skin and thick, natural hair that haloed her head. They were holding hands.
The guy smiled and stood, pulling the woman up with him. She was not smiling.
“Ernie, this is the Raccoon. Trey,” said Gabe.
Figures, Ernie thought. One more varmint she wasn’t particularly fond of.
Trey moved his hand, maybe to shake Ernie’s, but the woman held it firmly, her lips in a flat line, her black-brown eyes blazing. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Trey said. “Gabe asked me to keep a lookout.”
“You could have opened the door and talked to him, Ernie,” Gabe suggested. “You were behind the barrier.”
“Excuse me if I was feeling a little shy.”
Gabe put his hand on Ernie’s shoulder. “This is the Dealer of the Coconut Octopus,” he said, gesturing at the woman holding Trey’s hand in a vise grip. “Tarlae, it was nice of you to come.”
“Trey gets into trouble too easily without me,” she said. “Fortunately I’m good at getting him out of it.”
Trey looked down at her with complete adoration in his eyes. “It’s worth getting into it if you and Rika come to my rescue. I kinda like being the dude in distress.” He kissed her cheek.
Tarlae let him, but didn’t look pleased. She gave Ernie a hard look. “Like many of us, I came because it was necessary. Not because I wanted to.”
“You want to see the Diamondback in the hands of a new Dealer as much as the rest of us,” snapped a man with light brown skin and silver hair style
d in a Caesar cut. Trim but with a little paunch, he was sitting at the far end of the center couch and wearing a dapper suit, very colorful socks, and shiny patent leather shoes. In his hand was a cane with a silver knob on the end. He shook it at Ernie. “Though now that I see her, I’m not sure she’s going to be the one to pull this off. She’s puny.”
“Hey!” Ernie protested, but Gabe squeezed her shoulder.
“His name’s Alvarez,” said Gabe. “And I had no idea he’d be here.” He turned to Trey. “Did I tell you to invite others to this party?”
“Hey, man, he walked in outta nowhere and offered to help,” said Trey. “Hard to turn an ally down.”
“Maybe,” Gabe replied, giving Alvarez a skeptical look. “This is the Emperor Tamarin, Ernie.”
“Isn’t that a little monkey?”
“My monkey would eat you for breakfast,” Alvarez snarled at Ernie, starting to roll up the sleeve of his suit jacket. “You look so frail that Victor could break you in half with a glance!”
“Oh, come on, old man. If you had only two dozen cards, you’d feel off, too,” said Minh. He was lying on the couch to the right, his now-sandaled feet up on one of the arms, his fingernails painted black, another beer in his hand, looking like he’d been there for hours, even though they’d seen him in Hong Kong what seemed like ten minutes ago. He looked down at his arm as he saw Ernie peering at his happy-pig tattoo. “Oh. Would you like to socialize with Bao again?”
“No,” shouted at least three of the Dealers.
“I already fed him,” Minh said, stroking his tattoo.
“She looks so familiar,” said the fifth Dealer, who was sitting at the opposite end of the couch from Alvarez. She was older, maybe in her sixties, and wearing a gauzy white gown, voluminous and fluttery. With her pale skin and white hair, she almost looked like a ghost. “Don’t you think she looks familiar?” The woman had a southern accent, but it was different from Ernie’s, more Charleston than Blue Ridge, fewer Rs, like smooth tea, no twang. The woman was looking around at the others, as if for support.
Gabe scowled at Trey while he gestured at the old woman. “Really?”
Trey threw up his hands. “I’m not your bouncer, bro!”
“She was out in the woods,” Alvarez announced. “Found her skulking.”
“Liar,” crowed the old woman, pointing a spindly finger at him. “You were the skulker, monkey man!” She lowered her shaking finger and looked back at Ernie. “Do we know each other?”
Most of the Dealers were giving the woman curious looks, as if they thought she was out of her mind. But Minh just rolled his eyes. “Virginia, switch to lemonade.”
Virginia’s brow furrowed, and she tilted her head, ignoring Minh’s crack. “No, I don’t know you . . . How would I know you?” Then her eyes narrowed, and for some reason, the look gave Ernie the chills.
“Virginia deals the Chicken deck,” said Gabe. He looked weary and annoyed again, clearly unamused by the two party crashers.
“Not just any chicken,” admonished Virginia. “Luigi is a fine leghorn rooster.” Of course, it sounded more like “legguhn roostuh,” but Ernie knew what she meant.
“Definitely don’t want to get in a cockfight with Virginia,” said Minh, winking at Ernie. “She’s got the biggest cock of any of us.”
Virginia grumbled to herself and sat down with a flouncy whump, her heavily veined, skinny hands grabbing bunches of the lacy white fabric over her knees. “Don’t you forget it, little piggy,” she said quietly.
“Nice to meet all of you,” Ernie said, trying to decide how she felt about all these people being in her mom’s house without an invitation. “Nice of you to drop by.”
“Duncan has allies,” said Gabe, steering Ernie to the couch where Minh was stretched out, gesturing for him to move his feet so she could sit down. Minh obliged, sitting up and tipping his head back to finish his beer. He deposited the empty bottle next to a dozen or so that were already gathered on the floor between the couches. She hoped they weren’t all his.
“He has the Wolf Spider,” said Tarlae. “But Akela is the worst ally to have. She isn’t loyal.”
Ernie smiled at Tarlae—she’d drawn the same conclusion—but Tarlae simply stared at her, stone-faced, until Ernie looked away.
“We think he’s also drawn the Komodo Dragon to his side,” said Trey, looking grim. “Ruslan’s disappeared, and he’s not one to hide.”
“They’re probably doing what we’re doing,” said Gabe. “Planning for a fight. They want the Forger’s Marks, and they’re just looking for the chance.”
“No offense, but don’t you all want the Marks?” asked Ernie.
“I’d be interested in knowing they’re safe,” said Virginia.
“Gabe, you are asking all of us to risk our decks,” added Tarlae. “It would be good to know that such a risk is justified. Right now, we take your word that you are guarding the Marks.” She glanced at Ernie. “But I wonder if you aren’t distracted.”
“I’m not distracted.” Gabe’s voice was steady. Patient. But also unyielding.
“You have them?” asked Alvarez. “How do we know you won’t just use them for yourself?”
Gabe’s jaw was clenched. “I give you my word, and that’s the best you’ll get right now. I won’t allow the Marks to fall into Duncan’s hands, but I think we can all agree that even that safeguard doesn’t change the fact that the Diamondback needs a new Dealer.”
“Amen,” muttered Alvarez, clutching his cane so hard that Ernie feared it might snap.
“Each of them has clashed with Duncan in the past,” Gabe explained to Ernie. “And each of them wants to see him go down.”
“Dealers usually play alone, with some exceptions,” said Minh, inclining his head toward Trey and Tarlae. “What we have here . . . This isn’t a permanent arrangement.”
“Once you have the deck and the threat is gone, that is it,” said Tarlae. “Do not think we’ll be friends.”
Ernie laughed. “Thanks for setting me straight.”
Gabe stroked his thumb along Ernie’s shoulder blade, making her look up at him, startled by the touch. He glanced at his hand and pulled it back, looking oddly uncertain. “I told you I would help you,” he said quietly. “I figured the best thing I could give you was allies. And I suppose you have more than I expected.”
Looking into his eyes, Ernie felt the rest of the room drop away. She had so many questions for him, so many things she wanted to know. Like, why was he on the outs with the Forger, and why did his feud with Duncan seem so personal? But Gabe had made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. So instead, she simply asked, “What’s our game plan?”
“We get you ready for the fight,” said Trey.
“We strategize,” said Tarlae.
“We work together,” said Virginia.
“We play to our own strengths,” said Alvarez.
Minh smiled, pulled out his deck, and fanned his cards. “And we burn our enemies to the ground.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Despite wishing that she could go crawl into her mother’s bed and fall asleep, Ernie sat down as the Dealers finished their meal. The spread was mouthwatering—roasted potatoes, bean empanadas, poblanos stuffed with couscous and nuts, crispy fried tofu, spicy noodles, and on and on. Every time Ernie looked away from the table, another dish appeared. But no chicken. No pork. No seafood. No beef.
“Are you guys all vegetarians?”
Alvarez looked at her with disdain. “You think we would eat animals? When all of us are deeply bonded to one of our own?”
Ernie shrugged. “I know plenty of dog owners who enjoy a good burger.”
Gabe washed down a stuffed pepper with a few gulps of Hi-Wire Hi-Pitch, an IPA Ernie happened to love—someone had sprung for the local stuff. Or just magicked it up? She had no idea. “It’s hard to enjoy a good burger when you’ve had a run in with the Brahman.”
Virginia giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, Lawre
nce is really a softie if you get to know him, and Cecil is a marvelous specimen.”
“Horns are nasty,” muttered Trey, rubbing at his backside as he paced in front of the fireplace.
“You provoked him, lover,” said Tarlae, who was watching him from the couch with her legs tucked under her. She was drinking something steaming from one of Ernie’s mom’s favorite mugs, a chipped black one that said Southern Bell in fading letters—a reference to the phone company, not her social status. Mom had always thought it was funny, but Ernie doubted Tarlae appreciated the pun. The Octopus Dealer had eyes only for her man. “You tried to steal some of the Brahman’s cards while he was sleeping. I didn’t blame him for sending the bull your way.”
Trey rolled his eyes. “His fault for leaving his deck out in the open.”
“Lawrence prefers to sleep under the stars,” said Virginia.
“Is he available to help us?” asked Ernie.
All of them started to laugh, except for Gabe. “He’s not the full shilling, love. Unpredictable and daft.”
Virginia sniffed and looked away, drawing her deck from the sleeve of her flouncy gown. “Perhaps I should be going, given the rank ageism in this room.”
Alvarez rolled his eyes. “More of a bias against battiness,” he muttered.
Virginia glared at him.
“Aw, don’t take offense, Virginia,” Trey said. “We were just—”
Virginia rose from her seat, and Ernie shrank back as she realized the woman was suddenly twelve feet tall, bent almost double and bracing herself on the mantelpiece, with extra joints in her scarily long arms and fingers, and extra teeth in her head. Her eyes were blood red, and her jaw was jutting. Her ears had gone pointy, spiking upward from her elongated face to scrape the wooden ceiling. “Do not underestimate your elders, boy,” she said in a booming voice. “I could rip your lungs out with a flick of my finger.”