Tomat

by Richard Young

  Of course, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be on the trip in the first place.

  Now, I should explain that the town of Rook was not some village of farmers. It was actually pretty large, with two inns and a population in the thousands. With that said, Insen still shocked me with how big it was. Naturally, I kept the reaction to myself - one of the things Nate had been teaching me.

  I lost count of the number of inns we passed after we came in through the main gate. And the crowds! It didn't seem like there would be enough houses in the city to fit all the people who wandered through the streets. I was glad Nate was leading the way, or I was afraid I would be lost within minutes.

  After a dizzying amount of turns, we ended up on a side street outside of a building which proclaimed itself to be The Ass's Barn. The look and smell of the place certainly lived up to the name.

  "We're staying here?" I asked.

  "Yes. Problem?"

  "No, no, not at all. I was just thinking that maybe we could look for a place a little more, I don't know, sanitary?"

  "With the tournament in town, we'll be lucky if we don't end up sharing a bed. Besides, how much cash do you think we have?"

  "Enough?"

  "For this place? Barely. Come on."

  ***

  To make a long story short, I found myself flying through the first couple rounds of the tournament. The players were good, but not as extraordinary as I was led to believe. Several times, Nate warned me not to let it go to my head, to which I casually asked which round he had been knocked out in. When he didn't answer, I recommended that he keep his suggestions to himself.

  In the third round, only the top player from each table went on. There were only four players at each table now, instead of the eight there had been at the previous two. Brimming with confidence, I sat at my appointed seat.

  And across from me was Marlaia.

  "Marly!" I said.

  "It's Marlaia." I swear her voice actually chilled the room.

  "Right. Well, what are you doing here?"

  "Same as you. I'm here to play. To win."

  "You remember I already beat you once, right?"

  "You got lucky."

  I couldn't help flashing a grin. "I sure -"

  "Don't." The temperature dropped another couple of degrees as she lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Don't even mention that. I don't know why I ever thought that was a good idea."

  "Alcohol can do strange things to your judgment."

  "So can Mentalists."

  I froze for the briefest moment. "Oh?" I said. "You've had experience with them?"

  "You could say that."

  "You'll have to tell me about it sometime. Say, where'd you get the money for the entrance fee, anyway?"

  She actually flushed at that, though out of anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. With the sudden realization that I didn't have to ask, I dove into her thoughts. And found myself back in the maze. I wasn't going to find out anything this way, other than the cold anger that ran behind everything.

  "If you must know, I borrowed it. The winnings will more than make up for it."

  "And if you don't win?"

  "I will." And in a smaller voice, "I have to."

  By now, the other two players had arrived, and the game was minutes away from starting. "Look, Marly, I-"

  "Marlaia," she said, flashing her bewitching smile at one of the other players.

  "Whatever. If you don't win, and I do, I want you to know that you can borrow as much-"

  "Save it, Tomat. I don't want your pity or your money. Unless you're paying me for something?"

  I knew a trap when I saw it. "Let's just play, shall we?"

  Funny thing was, her mind didn't get any clearer when she started playing. If anything, it got more confusing. I glanced at her suspiciously, but she studiously ignored me as she flirted with one of the other players. Seeing that he was falling under her spell, I turned my attention to the other man.

  Soon enough, we had taken their coins, and it was down to the two of us. Again.

  But this time, her thoughts still had not solidified. I couldn't get a grasp of what she was thinking. I narrowed my eyes at her, but I couldn't exactly accuse her of deliberately masking her thoughts from me. Silently we played, our actions on the table a reflection of the battle in our minds. When I could work my way through her maze, I started to win. When she succesfully shrouded her thoughts, her pile of coins grew.

  But in the end, it all came down to one hand. All of Marlaia's coins were in the center of the table, and I had few enough left in front of that if I lost, I might as well give up.

  She drew two cards; I drew one. With a smile on her face, she lay her cards down on the table. I didn't look at them. I didn't even know what they were. I didn't have to. It didn't matter.

  I had the highest possible hand.

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  Afterwards, when the cards had been cleaned up and the money collected, I found Marlaia waiting for me. I half expected an accusation to be flung in my face, but instead of shouts, she spoke in a soft, almost apologetic voice.

  "Can I talk to you?" she said.

  "Sure." I was still cautious.

  "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

  "What?"

  "I'm sorry. I thought - I thought you were cheating, so I went to see the Mentalists at the Asylum, and they taught me some tricks, and then you still won, so I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to - I just got lucky."

  She flashed me a small smile. "You sure did."

  "And what about your debt? Is it anything I can help you with? I just feel like it's my fault you're here."

  With a small shake of her head, she said "Don't worry about it. It's not like you did anything wrong. I'm just stupid, looking for an excuse."

  "An excuse?"

  She lowered her eyes and stared at a spot on the ground. "I got the money to enter the tournament from my boyfriend. He was going to put it towards a ring. I needed to know if that night... between us... was my fault or not. I wanted to believe - I was so convinced - that you had manipulated me. But now - it was all me, I realize that."

  "I'm sorry." It was all I could say.

  "It's not your fault." It was. "I didn't even tell you I was seeing anyone." I didn't give her the chance. "You couldn't have known." I could have. "And I know you weren't manipulating me or anything." I was.

  A tear fell from her downturned face as she continued. "I really thought I loved him," she said. She sniffed and looked back up at me, forcing a smile. "But you don't need to hear about this. I should go. Good luck, Tomat. I mean it this time."

  I've never felt worse than I did when I watched her walk away without saying a word.

  ***

  Finally. The final game. The fourth round had been a trivial win, and now there I was, ascending the steps to the final table, a one on one match against the man who had also won his way through four rounds of games. The table was set on a small podium, and surrounded by benches that were filled with people. Even though the match was taking place in the evening, the room was lit as bright as the sun at noon.

  I took my seat and studied my opponent as some announcer gave our names and other details to the crowd. He was pretty plain looking, with the exception of a small patch of hair on his chin. A cursory glance into his thoughts showed that they were plain as well. Smart, sharp, and good with calculations - but not complex.

  The announcer seemed to like the sound of his own voice, and as he droned on, my opponent leaned across the table toward me.

  "He sure talks a lot," he said.

  "Does he ever."

  "I'm Harol." He stuck out his hand, and I took it.

  "Tomat," I said.

  "You as nervous as I am, Tomat?"

  "Are you kidding? Look at all these people! I don't know about you, but the only people I'm used to watching me gamble are the ones sitting at the table with me."

  "This your first tournament? Wow, I'm i
mpressed. Well, let me tell you, you never get used to the crowds." Harol glanced back at the announcer. "Sounds like he's almost done. Good luck."

  "You too."

  Moments later, the cards were dealt and I found myself looking at the six numbers in my hand. Six green cards looked back at me. A flush. The game was off to a good start.

  Feeling secure in my win - for this hand, at least - I poked into Harol's mind to see what I could find out about his hand. Or rather, I tried to. But I got nothing. As near as I could tell, not a thought was going through his head. It was impossible; even sleeping people had thoughts. I pushed a little harder, trying to get a glimpse, anything - and was rebounded back into my own mind so hard it hurt. Without Nate's training on how to disguise my emotions, I would have given myself away right then and there. As it was, I think I twitched slightly.

  "Tomat?" Harol said. "It's your bet. You okay?"

  Forcing a smile, I said "I'm fine. It's just the crowds, you know?"

  Harol returned the grin. "I know what you mean. You block them out after a while."

  I nodded and turned my attention back to the game.

  To this day I don't know if Harol taught himself how to guard his thoughts, or if it was just something that came natural to him, but I can tell you that I've never seen anything like it since. Once I almost thought I made it through the barrier, but I wasn't even close. I couldn't read anything. I was stuck playing the game like anybody else. But I was outclassed, and I knew it.

  An hour in, everybody else knew it too, as more than half of my coins were gone. I swear, people in the crowd were actually getting up and leaving. Even Harol seemed to be pitying me - not that he played any worse for it.

  There was only one way to salvage the game, and I didn't even know if it would work. I had been able to read his thoughts before the game started. If I could last until the first break, I'd be able to read them again, which would mean I could plant a Suggestion - something to make him screw up, or lower his block.

  With that little glimmer of hope in the back of my mind, I began to play as defensively as I could. By the time the break time arrived, my little stack of coins was less than a small hill to Harol's mountain, but I had survived. Now to secure my win.

  I reached out for Harol's thoughts. The barrier was gone. With time being so short, I rushed through his thoughts, but found nothing I could use - aside from the fact that he was disappointed in my performance. Desperate, I took hold of that thought and enhanced it. Maybe it would be enough to make it an even match.

  Only a few minutes left before the match started again. I needed something more, a guarantee of my win. With what little coin I had left, an even match still wouldn't be good enough. One minute left. We started to make our way back to the table.

  I'll admit, I started to freak out. Had I managed to keep my cool, maybe this story would have ended differently. But in my panic, I delved too deep into his mind. I pushed too hard, too fast. And in mid step, Harol collapsed, twitching, to the ground.

  I had only wanted to make him lose his confidence. Make him give up. And I guess he did.

  One of the stupidest things I've ever done was trying to run away. The crowd was still filing in the doors, for one, blocking the escape route. For two, the place was full of Quis, one of whom managed to catch me before I had gone ten feet. And third, because it made me look as guilty as I was. One invasion of my mind later, and the Qui had all the evidence he needed. I was a Mentalist.

  As I was being dragged away - I was tempted to kick and scream, for show - I spotted Harol climb to his feet amidst a circle of onlookers. He was alive, and even appeared to be coherent. Well, that was one thing off my conscience. As to the other -

  "Nate!" I called. I knew he had to be in the crowd somewhere. He wouldn't have missed this game. To my surprise, when he appeared the Qui actually stopped to let me talk to him.

  "What did you do that for?" Nate growled at me. "We were so close!"

  "Just listen, it's about Marlaia."

  "If this is some big confession, don't bother. I know you slept with her. She's an adult, and who she chooses to spend her nights with is none of my business."

  "Well that's the thing. She didn't exactly choose of her own free will. Will you tell her that for me?"

  A nose makes a disgusting crunching sound when it's broken, which is much more noticeable when it's your own. Can't say I'm a fan of it. Strangely, the Qui stepped in to protect me, holding Nate at arm's length as my nose dripped to the floor. Nate didn't say a word to me, even when another Qui came to lead him away.

  "Are you done, or there anyone else you'd like to provoke?" the Qui holding my arm asked.

  I held my hand to my nose and tried to stem the flow of blood. "I'm good, thanks. Let's go."