by Jada Fisher
“Here goes nothing.”
He lifted the cup and the dice came tumbling out, their movements feeling like they had physical weight and pressure along Ukrah’s spine. She forced herself to be still, clutching Voirdr tightly, and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long. The dice stopped moving, and it was like the air crackled around them. A few men hissed, some gasped, and a majority swore. The leader, however, sat there a moment. Quiet.
“You’re not cheating now, are you, pickpocket?”
Crispin just smiled crookedly. “Sorry, friend, I value my life too much for that. But I’ve got the dragon’s claw, so I guess we’ll be keeping our little guy. You can test the dice if you want, you know, but they are yours.”
The man looked over them, eyes narrowed. He was still affecting a pleasant sort of host persona, but there was an edge to it. Like he was suspicious of what exactly had brought them there.
“How about double or nothing?”
“No offense, my friend, but I don’t see how risking our safe passage is worth anything else you’re free to offer us.”
“You underestimate all that we have then. We may be more movers than hoarders, but we do well enough by ourselves.”
“That so?”
“That’s so.”
“Alright then. How about…permission to look for opportunities on the edge of your territory.”
The tension in the air ramped up, definitely sparking all around her. Ukrah kept her eyes down, but she was just beginning to catch on. Crispin had always been smooth, but it was easy to forget with how earnest he always was around her.
“You want a portion of our territory?”
“Sure. It would help us on our travels. You know how it is, being a pickpocket. You need to stay on the move. We don’t have the luxury of being established like you lot are.”
“You’re not trying to swindle me, are you, little boy?”
Crispin just grinned cheekily at him. “Just making the best of an opportunity. Safe passage plus a little safety in your territory versus the dragon and the giant.”
The man licked his lips. “You telling me you’d leave your muscle behind?”
“Let’s be honest, he eats a lot and he doesn’t exactly work for the pickpocket lifestyle. He was great guarding our last home, but he’s a simple type. All this running around makes him anxious.”
“You could just give him to us then, if it would be better for him.”
“Oh no,” Crispin continued with a smirk. “People like us don’t give something for nothing. So, do you wanna bet?”
There was another long, long tense moment, then suddenly, the man was laughing. “You’re brazen, I give you that. Alright, I’ll take your bet then. Maybe I’ll even give you something nice when you lose because you’ve been so entertaining.”
“I do try my best,” Crispin said wanly. “Loser gets first strike?”
“How gracious of you.”
The man picked up his dice and placed them in the cup, shaking several times before rolling them out on the table. When they came to a stop, there wasn’t really any sort of noise or all, bad or good.
“It’s a hatching,” the leader sighed.
But Ukrah could only take so much anticipation. “What’s a hatching?” she asked, leaning forward to whisper in Crispin’s ear.
“Oh, so she does speak!” the leader said, smiling smarmily at her. “And here I thought she was working the mute orphan angle.”
But Ukrah ignored him completely as Crispin answered. “It means we go down to two dice each. The first person to land exactly on twelve wins.”
“But you have to get two sixes to do that.”
“Exactly. The best strategy is to roll as quickly as possible without losing track of the dice. No one else can touch them, so if one rolls away, you have to go get it.”
This is ridiculous! You’re wagering all our lives on a silly mortal game! We could just fight them all, seamstress’s son be dam—
Ukrah jostled her pack, cutting the bird off as the leader called for another cup. It took a moment of the strapping men all around him scrambling—which probably would have been comedic in any other circumstance—before someone was able to place it in his hand.
“Ready?” he asked, eyes glinting.
“Ready,” Crispin confirmed.
“To the hatchin!”
They both grabbed two of the dice and put them in their cups, almost immediately turning them over. The pair were almost lightning quick, their moves parallel to each other like a dance. They went once, neither had twelve. Twice, neither had twelve. Five times, neither had twelve. But then, somewhere around the tenth row in less than a few breaths, Crispin calmly set his cup to the side.
“Twelve.”
“That’s… That’s not possible,” the leader said, sounding both breathless and amused. “If these weren’t my dice on my table, I’d say you were cheating, boy.”
Crispin just kept that same pleasant smile on his face. “Like you said, it’s a skill.”
The leader cocked his head to the side at that, his jaw tensing. “I’m beginning to think I’ve been fleeced. Let me guess, you’re not any good at darts or dagger throwing at all, are you?”
Crispin shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never tried. But can you blame me for trying to swing things in my own favor? You did the same when you steered me away from a game you thought I would have an advantage at.”
The man laughed, but there was a bitterness to his tone. “Ay, but it’s only clever when I do it. Otherwise, it’s just annoying.”
“My apologies then,” Crispin tilted his tilted and went to stand. “I’ll just collect our winnings and—”
Suddenly, there was a dagger right between his fingers where his hand was splayed out on the table, the leader having lunged forward to bury it there. His face was still sweet, still charming, but there was that violent edge in his voice as he spoke.
“One last game, now that we’ve placed all our cards on the table. Winner takes all.”
“Seems a waste to play for the same stakes,” Crispin said, sliding back into his seat. “Surely there’s something you want to raise the ante?”
“You like playing with fire, boy?”
“I may have been accused of that before. Ma always said I had too much of a green-eyed monster in me.”
The man licked his lips, not in a lecherous way, but Ukrah began to understand it was a sort of tell. It meant he was thinking, evaluating the situation and trying to set it up to his advantage. Somehow, Crispin had learned enough to set up the man before anyone else had caught on.
“The girl, the pale one. We could use better bait on a few of our staking spots.”
Cassinda drew in a sharp breath, but Crispin just held up a hand. “Alright, the dragon, the giant, and the girl. Almost poetic.”
The leader let out a huff at that. “Almost. And what are your stakes?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Safe passage, a little free reign toward the south, and…” He paused, his voice casual. “That lady over there. We could really use the soft-mother angle to help us slip by discerning eyes.”
If Ukrah thought that the room was tense before, it nearly doubled. She could feel the hairs all along her arms stand up, and even Voirdr untucked his head from her shoulder to look around and see what had caused the silent fuss.
For a moment, she thought that maybe he had pushed it too far. That the ceiling was going to collapse on them, and the world turn inside-out as they were swarmed. But instead, the leader just took a long breath.
“Strange, to ask for her. She’s nothing important.”
“Maybe not to you, but you gotta admit, someone motherly like her makes a lot more sense as our guardian than this lovable oaf here. And he’s not exactly the best talking.” The smile dropped off his face, and suddenly, Crispin seemed to be someone else entirely. Someone sharp and entirely too smart for their own good. “But she’s been talking over there the whole time.
And look at all those smiles? Obviously, she’s got a way about her. A way that could be very useful to a little ragtag group like us orphans.”
The man huffed a bit, shaking his head. “Something tells me that you weren’t just a part of a group of northerners. It was your little ring they busted, wasn’t it?”
Crispin grinned toothily, still nothing like himself. It was bizarre. Ukrah knew he was acting, using some of those skills that had kept him alive all his life before she met him, but it was so counter to everything she knew of him. It made chills go down her spine at the same time it made admiration rise within her.
“You flatter me. I’m a bit young for all of that, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I was being groomed to take things over. You know, back when there was something to take over. Now I’m looking at making a name for myself all over again in a place with hopefully a few less guardsmen and a few less dragons, so can you blame me for trying to secure whatever I can?”
“You remind me of myself. No, I guess I can’t. Alright then, boy, last game. Winner takes all.”
The man shook succinctly then rolled. Again, there wasn’t a cry one way or another, and he looked down casually. “Nineteen,” he said tersely.
“Not the best roll,” Crispin said flatly as he put the dice in his own cup. “But not the worst either. I’ve lost to less.”
“Have you?”
“Of course. Everyone’s had a bad roll before.” He shook then released, and there was that same terse silence. “…nineteen,” he said after a beat.
“Dragon’s battle,” one of the men whispered, and Ukrah swore that the slightest noise would have the entire scene spinning away. She risked a glance back at Helena to see that the woman was standing ramrod straight, her eyes forward. The conversation around her had faded, all the thieves having turned around to look at the game.
“Dragon’s battle?” she repeated in a whisper, leaning toward Crispin once again.
“We both get three rolls. Whoever has the highest score at the end wins. If you get a dragon’s claw on any of the rolls, you automatically win.”
“As the declarer, I’ll go first,” the leader said, looking as excited as he did tense. Picking up the dice, he filled his cup and rolled.
“Twenty-six,” he said, his smile crooked. Ukrah knew enough of arithmetic to know that was quite a high number.
Another roll. “Twenty.”
His last roll. “Twenty-two.”
He sat back in satisfaction, like the cat that had the canary. He watched as Crispin leaned forward to scoop up the dice, licking his lips again. “Sixty-eight. Going to be a hard number to beat.”
“I am aware.”
Crispin took the cup and shook, then rolled, his long, slender fingers looking elegant as he worked. Then, a flick of his wrist, and the dice rolled out.
“Twenty,” he said calmly, and Ukrah swore her heart skipped a beat. He went into his next roll, but when the dice all came to a stop, he frowned.
“Eleven.”
The leader’s mouth crooked upward in a wicked grin. “Eleven, huh?’ he said, looking at the five twos and a single one. “That means it’s impossible for you to roll high enough to win. You know that, right?”
Crispin paused, his hand over the dice, just sitting there for a moment. “Not quite. I can always roll a dragon’s claw.”
“Yeah, but the chances of that are—”
“Why discuss the chances when we can just see for ourselves? Last roll, shall we?”
“By all means,” the leader said with a grin. “I hope you lose as graciously as you up the ante.”
“And I hope the same for you.”
Crispin shook, and shook, and shook before finally, he rolled. This time ,it seemed like they were going to bounce off the table, scattering every which way until they disappeared into the ether. But then, they all came to a stop.
A one, a two, a three, a four, a five, and a six.
“Would you look at that,” Crispin said with an innocent grin. “A perfect dragon’s claw.” His gaze flicked back to the man across from him. “So, that was winner takes all, right?”
It was like a lever was flipped within the leader and he suddenly threw the table to the side, rising to his feet and stomping toward Crispin.
“You cheated!” he hissed, grabbing the boy’s collar.
“How could I have?” the boy countered casually. “They were your dice on your table in your place.” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “You wanna check my sleeves? My pockets?”
The leader snarled and withdrew his sword. “How about I check your guts when I spill them across our floor?”
He pulled his blade back to strike and that was when Ukrah lunged forward, grabbing it with her hand. She could feel the metal bite into her flesh, but it barely was able to pinch in discomfort before heat rushed through her.
“Put that down,” she ordered, the metal of the blade growing dark and hot until the man was forced to drop it. Stumbling back, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a familiar snarl. One that she was oh-so-tired of.
“Witches!” he cried, stepping back to let his man swarm around him.
And that was really when the fight truly began.
The men swarmed in all at once. Athar surged to life behind her, and she could hear him draw his weapon. Cassinda let out a curse too, and it was her tiny hand that whipped out to grab Ukrah.
“There are hardly any roots I can reach here,” she hissed. “The earth is dead.”
And that was all she got out before they were completely embroiled in battle.
Ukrah gripped the energy within her as best she could, pulling her staff from her harness. She couldn’t summon the energy, the all-encompassing fury that could destroy her enemies, but she could feel at least something.
She dove forward, blocking a man who dove for Crispin and kicking another. She whirled, spinning her staff, and she sent out a rippling blow of energy from her core.
She didn’t have time to track her hits, or who stumbled from what. All she could do was dedicate herself entirely to protecting her family.
A blade flashed toward her and she held her staff up, catching and deflecting. She tried to parry so she could move onto another, but the attacker reached out and gripped her wrist.
Before she could even react, there were claws biting up her back and then suddenly a heavy weight was leaping off her shoulders. The next moment, Voirdr was slamming into the face of her attacker, his full weight hitting them square on.
Naturally, they toppled backward, the hatchling biting and clawing at them before he tilted his head back and keened his victory. Ukrah would have glowed with pride if someone didn’t suddenly slug her across her face, sending her sprawling.
She rolled as soon as she hit the ground, dodging stomps and weapon strikes alike. She was already beginning to breathe hard and was suddenly acutely aware of exactly how young and inexperienced she was.
She’d been spoiled with what had happened with her village, with the guards, with the men in the clearing. She wasn’t used to having to try. But with Cassinda’s power checked without plant life and hers only barely sparking, she found herself having to actually fight for her life.
Maybe she needed to stop taking their abilities for granted. After all, even if she had an ancient spirit inside of her, she was still human.
…she hoped.
She hit the wall and pushed off it, using the roll to get to her feet. She did it just in time to get a knee to her gut, and pain exploded behind her eyes.
She didn’t let it swamp her, however, and threw her elbow. She didn’t know where her staff went, so her other hand lashed out, her finger biting into skin.
“Stop,” she ordered, her vision clarifying enough to stare into the eyes of what looked to be one of the burlier thieves.
Immediately, his motion halted, black rushing down her arm and going into his face. It slithered under his skin like little snakes through his veins be
fore his eyes filled with it.
He let out a scream then ripped away from her, dashing out of the room like his pants were on fire.
And who knew, maybe to him they were.
The room was still so full of enemies. Athar was holding off a good number, Cassinda and Crispin tucked behind him and throwing random pieces of broken furniture. She couldn’t see Voirdr, but she knew that she would be able to feel if he was in trouble, so hopefully, he was fine. Or as fine as he could be, considering the situation.
A good number of men rushed the other group, and Ukrah tried to call up her magic to protect them, but it slid through her grasp like water. Thankfully, a row of thin, knotted vines burst up through the cracks in the floor and began to fight off the thieves.
But it wasn’t going to be enough. Ukrah could tell. If she didn’t get a grip, they would—
Voirdr let out another long, loud keen, drawing far too much attention to himself from where he was hiding next to an overturned table.
Ukrah made a mad dash for him, diving over a man who went to tackle her, but she never quite made it.
However, that was because a large chunk of the roof caved in, and suddenly, Fior dropped inside of the room, snarling on impact. A moment later, Ethella joined him, erupting through the ceiling with a mighty roar.
Well…her upper half did.
Ukrah knew better than to wait for what they were about to do. Diving the rest of the way to Voirdr, she picked him up and launched the two of them behind some of the overturned tables, clapping her hands over her ears.
She felt Foir’s roar before she heard it, the sheer blast of sound making her brain shriek and ears rattle even with her fingers pressed into them and her hands over them. It made her entire mind spin, and she curled around Voirdr as tightly as she could.
It only lasted a couple of breaths, but when it stopped, Ukrah still couldn’t move. She had no idea how many beats passed while she laid there, but she was quickly motivated to move as an arrow pierced the table right by her hip.
Her eyes locked onto the thief on the stairs holding a loaded crossbow in her direction. Their gazes met for a moment as both realized he’d missed, then he hurried to load another bolt.
Ukrah knew she only had moments. Jumping to her feet, she raced forward and launched herself off a chair.