By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel Page 6

“I accept,” I said.

  “Twig, no! You can’t.”

  “Why not? You were willing to bet yourself. Why can’t I?”

  “Well, because . . . because, you have a job to do.”

  “And I’m doing it.” I dismissed Quinn and focused on Rainbowpebbles. “I’m in. But it has to be in the public room. I want to make sure it’s all on the up and up.” Yeah, as if. The fucker would cheat like crazy.

  “Of course. Never let it be said that Lapus Rainbowpebbles wasn’t an honest fae.”

  I snorted. I hoped I didn’t come to rue this day. Not only would I have to work for a scum like Rainbowpebbles, but it would put my fragile relationship with my father on even thinner ice.

  6

  Finding a neutral third party to act as the dealer was a joke. We settled on an ill-tempered rock gnome who didn’t seem to care for either of us. He probably wouldn’t have even done it if Rainbowpebbles hadn’t agreed to spot him a free round of frosted joker elixir. Popular guy, Rainbowpebbles.

  Being a bit of a showboat, Rainbowpebbles arranged for a table to be moved into the middle of the taproom and made it clear to all that something was going down. We soon garnered a sizeable audience. He announced the stakes and we shook on it, the gnome placing his hands on top of ours and sealing the deal with his magic. No backing out now.

  Once the cards were dealt, I blocked out everyone else. Quinn pleaded with me again not to play, but he’d put me in this position. I was tempted to send him back to my place, except a human walking around unchaperoned in the Elder was just asking for trouble. Invisibility didn’t always guarantee safety.

  Qwikskor was a little bit like a game humans favored called ‘blackjack.’ Except instead of two cards, there were ten. The total needed to equal as close to 103 as possible. Also, two cards were dealt face up and couldn’t be exchanged, but once the first four cards were flipped—or exchanged for new ones before being flipped over—the remaining four cards were swapped with your opponent’s cards and became theirs. Additionally, a Qwikskor deck held negative numbers, not just positive ones, and no weird humans on them, just the numbers 1-12.

  Rainbowpebbles winked at me over his cards. His first two cards were an 11 and an 8. I watched him replace two of his facedown cards through slight-of-hand. I suppose for a fae, he was a pretty good cheat.

  Of course, it was obvious he’d never gone up against a dragon before. There was a reason we were so good at stockpiling treasures, and it wasn’t just our brawn.

  Yeah, that surprised me, too.

  I purposely kept my arms crossed over my chest, so everyone could see I was nowhere near my cards. Then I exhaled. To the naked eye, the cards looked the same, but they’d rearranged themselves in a more favorable order. Little known dragon talent. I’d stumbled across it by accident. Came in handy now, though.

  Rainbowpebbles frowned, looked to the dealer. He’d obviously marked the cards and now his were completely messed up. If he said something, the dealer would want to know how he knew the cards had changed. He couldn’t admit to marking them. And even though the cards were charmed against magic use, they responded to my proximity and fell into place. I didn’t have to look at my hand to know I held 103 total.

  Rainbowpebbles was crafty, I’ll give him that. He switched out two cards for more favorable ones, and gleefully handed over his four when it came time to swap. I didn’t know what the cards were, but I could guess from his pleased expression there were a bunch of negative ones in that pile.

  I exhaled again, and the cards once again rearranged themselves.

  “He’s cheating.” Rainbowpebbles pointed at me.

  I widened my eyes and generally tried to look innocent.

  “I’m wounded,” I said. I turned to the dealer. “Tell you what. Why don’t you switch out my last four cards? I’ll keep my hands right here and you can deal them out.”

  Muttering broke out among those watching. That was crazy and everyone knew it. I just smiled. Let them think I was the village idiot.

  The dealer swiped up my last four cards and after shuffling replaced them with new ones. Another exhale and the cards again rearranged themselves.

  “He’s using magic,” Rainbowpebbles said.

  I laughed. So did everyone else.

  “They’re charmed, aren’t they?” I asked through guffaws. “I’m pretty sure we’d know if I tried to use magic.” Because when most creatures tried to magic them, the cards would explode. Not so for dragons, apparently. Or perhaps it happened because of my mixed heritage. I didn’t know, and didn’t much care. All I knew was that the cards wanted to rearrange themselves for me. Almost as if they were alive. They just needed my permission. So, I let them.

  Each and every time.

  “There must be something wrong with the charm,” Rainbowpebbles insisted.

  “It’s your deck, but go ahead and try to use magic on one of my cards,” I said agreeably. I shrugged like it was of no importance. “The dealer can always give me another one.”

  Rainbowpebbles pointed at my final card and it went up in a ball of flame. Everyone jumped back, and I heard Quinn gasp. I didn’t look at him, though. I was in the zone and planned to collect in full once we flipped the cards.

  The gnome declared the cards adequately charmed and dealt me another one, which I knew would still give me the 103 I needed.

  Rainbowpebbles’ skin turned a nasty shade of orange.

  “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you’ve changed the cards out.”

  I sighed and put a hand over my heart like this really, really pained me. “Is this how you treat all your customers? I mean, you keep accusing me of cheating, but I’ve kept my hands away from the table, and we’ve all agreed I can’t use magic. It’s enough to make a dragon really pissed off.”

  That caused muttering and a collective step back from the audience. Rainbowpebbles growled, caught in his own trap.

  “I want a new deck,” he insisted.

  I groaned. “Fine. But no bellyaching this time. I’d like to finish this game sometime today.”

  “Twig, what are you doing? Hold him to his cards!” Quinn hissed.

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t cheat, Quinn. It’s his reputation at stake, after all. If he wants to start over because he thinks he’s got a bum hand, well I’m game. I want him to know I win fair and square.”

  A few titters from the crowd. Rainbowpebbles’ reputation was taking a big hit and the nicer I was the worse he came off. I didn’t need to say anything to sully his reputation. He was doing it all on his own. Though at the moment, I also looked like a moron.

  I wouldn’t for long.

  Rainbowpebbles snapped his fingers and a gargoyle appeared with a new deck. This one was heavily magicked as evidenced by the green glow around it. He waited for me to object or insist upon testing the deck.

  “Deal them out,” I said, pushing back from the table so everyone could see I was in no way performing any slight-of-hand.

  The gnome took them, and shook his head slowly like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever seen. Once we collected our cards, I exhaled and the cards paused . . .

  Oh shit . . . before rearranging themselves again. I did my best not to show my relief, my heart hammering in my chest. That was some strong juju he’d magicked the cards with. Looked like mine was stronger. Barely.

  Rainbowpebbles eyes bulged. I mean, more than usual. He wanted to call me out, but what could he say? I smiled, all teeth.

  He practically tossed his cards at me when we exchanged. Then the moment of truth. We flipped the last cards over. His flight totaled 101 (with a huge amount of cheating, I might add) and mine 103.

  A mighty cheer rose up around me. Okay, not really. The Steamy Bean crowd weren’t much for cheering, but they did jeer at Rainbowpebbles and a couple brave customers slapped me on the back.

  “Pay up, Rainbowpebbles.” I held out my hand.

  “You cheated,” he said.

  More jeers from the crowd.<
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  “Prove it.” I growled. “You just can’t handle losing. A bad quality for someone who runs card tables. If I were one of your regular customers, I’d think twice about playing with someone who calls foul when they lose.”

  “Let’s discuss this in my office.” Rainbowpebbles nodded toward the hallway.

  “I don’t think so. You promised me the unicorn horn if I won, and I’m ready for you to pay up. Right here. In front of all your customers.” Oh, I had him now.

  “I have it in my office—”

  I pointed to my nose. Took a big sniff.

  “We’ve already established the horn isn’t in the building. But I’m sure you can summon it.” I looked at the rapt crowd. “You’d all like to see a unicorn horn, right?”

  The crowd was eager now. They smelled blood. Their taunts became louder.

  “You do have the horn, don’t you? I mean, you wouldn’t bet something you didn’t own.” A cardinal sin.

  Rainbowpebbles squirmed. “Well, you see, it’s not so easy as all that.”

  “So, you did bet something you don’t own anymore?”

  “I guess you could say I lent it out to someone for a time.”

  “How long?”

  “A while.”

  “Then you can get it back. I’ll come by tomorrow to pick it up.”

  “That’s too soon.”

  I looked at the crowd, shock writ all over my face. “I can’t believe it. He’s swindling me.”

  “No! No, I’m not.” He held up placating hands, but I could see the crowd didn’t need much more to tip them over the edge. Violence was in the air. Which I would normally revel in, except I had Quinn to protect. He could so easily get hurt.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Rainbowpebbles,” I sneered. “You sold the horn, made a false bet with me, and are now trying to get out of it.”

  “It’s not like that!” His voice rose at least an octave. “I had to give it away. Sahara Burningwood demanded it.”

  The crowd gasped. Sahara Burningwood was a sprite who went so wrong that instead of focusing on life, she focused her substantial powers on death. Making zombies, specifically. Sprites were known for making plants and trees grow, but it was rumored anything she touched withered and died.

  “Demanded it? You mean, she didn’t pay for it?” I was just baiting him now. Fuck it, I wanted payback.

  “Nnnoo.” He shook his head wildly.

  Liar.

  “So since you defaulted on the contract, I guess that means you’d better make yourself comfortable in the Asylum.” Wrong Path Asylum—again with the uninspired names—

  was the Elder equivalent of a debtor's prison. Not a nice place to hang out, but he’d sealed the deal with magic, so it was within my right to demand the magic now restrain him.

  “Wait! I have other things you might want.”

  “Nah, I’d like to see you in a cell. You chained me to a wall, the least I can do is to return the favor.” I nodded to the gnome and he moved to clap his hands together to activate the magic.

  “Please! There must be something else you want.”

  I pretended to think it over. Oh so tempting to send him to a well-deserved cell, but one glance at Quinn’s hopeful face and I couldn’t do it.

  “I want all your indentured servants.”

  “I’ve got three here.” He nodded eagerly.

  “No, I want them all. Including the virgin sprite.”

  His face fell. “That’s too many. Perhaps just—”

  “Every last one, or off you go.” I nodded toward the gnome again.

  “All right, all right!” He snapped his fingers and a stack of parchment materialized.

  “I said, all of them.”

  “Fine!” Another snap and more scrolls appeared.

  “Sign them over.”

  He did so and within seconds, the servants began appearing. Brownies, imps, a couple kobolds, and even a cockatrice and a merman materialized before us. That group included the sprite. They all seemed either fearful or angry. Or both. I could relate. Rainbowpebbles wasn’t known for his gentle nature, after all.

  One by one, I tore up their contracts much to their shock and delight. I wasn’t about to keep them. Even keeping Quinn in a temporary arrangement made my skin crawl. The look on the creatures’ faces was worth it.

  “You’re free,” I said. “Make the most of your second chance.”

  The majority fled the café as quickly as possible, but a few former servants advanced on Rainbowpebbles. He squealed and called his gargoyles to protect him.

  I jumped in front of Quinn as other patrons either joined the fray or scurried for cover.

  “Nice doing business with you, Rainbowpebbles.” Hurrying toward the exit, I pushed Quinn in front of me. I would have enjoyed turning more gargoyles to sand, except I couldn’t risk Quinn’s neck.

  When we hit the street, I handed Quinn his ring. He curled his fist around it, holding it to his chest like I might snatch it back. The family crest engraved on the ring’s side told me it meant more to him than its magic.

  “I’m not keeping your damn ring. But next time I tell you to do something, you’d better do it.” Scowling, I leaned into his face to emphasize my point. Whatever nervousness he’d felt around me seemed to have greatly diminished, like once he’d washed away the face paint he became a different person. Maybe he had. I liked this version a lot better than the façade, though it would be convenient if he was a tad more obedient.

  He shot me a cautious look, but didn’t flinch and kept his pace without faltering. Before, he’d moved in a seductive gait, hips swaying in an exaggerated fashion when he walked. All that had fallen away. He now strode with purpose, and I couldn’t help noticing with all the fragrance washed from his skin, he smelled divine. Like better than anyone I’d ever smelled. Even Brandsome. Not like sex or pheromones. A clean almost woodsy smell making me think of flying over a twilight-pine forest or rolling in pine needles. Not that I’d ever done either, though the image was compelling.

  “You knew you’d win. I’ve never seen anything like it. How did you do it? I couldn’t detect any magic, yet you managed a perfect score.” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper.

  “Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

  He shrugged.

  Um, half-dragon? Fierce? Could eat him like a tasty snack? He hesitated before smiling expectantly, only a hint of the wariness he normally wore around him like a cloak.

  Well, damn.

  “So how did you do it?” he all but begged.

  I gripped his elbow and steered him out of the path of a passing centaur.

  “Dunno. Maybe it’s like the unicorn’s magic. I seem to have no difficulty finding treasure or cheating at cards,” I said at last. “So why aren’t you scared I’m going to punish you? Because you know I’m within my rights to do so.”

  He blinked, the wariness back in his eyes. Then he blinked again and hardened his jaw. “You freed all those servants. You also protected me from that gargoyle. And you wouldn’t use me as a bargaining chip, even when I offered myself up.” He ticked each item off on his fingers in a damning fashion.

  I chortled. “I thought at least you’d call on my membership in the Alphae—which doesn’t cover the handling of indentured servants, by the way.”

  “Are you saying I should be afraid of you?”

  I’ll admit he flustered me with his fast turnaround. “I didn’t say that. I asked why the big change. When I left, you didn’t trust me, now suddenly you’re so confident I won’t punish you. Why?”

  He smirked—actually smirked—at me.

  “I might have cast some runes, too.”

  I placed my arm in front of him so he had to stop walking. “Whoa. Like witch stuff? How would you know how to cast runes?”

  “You don’t need to be a witch to cast runes. You just need to know how to read the signs. Besides, I’m a guy. Witches are female. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  I ignored
his jab. “Uh huh. So your runes said I was a nice guy?”

  He lifted his chin defiantly. “They told me all I needed to know about you.”

  “Is that so?” My expression must have turned querulous, because he lurched into motion and looked like he was considering taking off.

  “Besides, your dad is Auric Starfig, right?” he called back over his shoulder. “You must get some political savvy from him. Wouldn’t want bad PR.”

  Oh my Fucking Fairy Godmother, he believed that tripe? I couldn’t help it. I bellowed in laughter and gripped my sides.

  “Say that again,” I sputtered between laughs.

  “Why is that funny?” He spun around and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so put out that I laughed harder. Lava tears streaked down my cheeks, and I bent double, hardly able to draw breath. When I didn’t answer, he stomped off.

  “Wait!” I called after him. “It’s not safe for you on your own.”

  I hurried to catch up with him, wiping the tears before they hardened into jagged rock I’d have to chisel away. Just another perk of my mixed heritage.

  Quinn gave me the side-eye as we kept walking. “I’m guessing you don’t have the best relationship with your father.”

  “You think? You were there. You tell me, genius.”

  “You don’t need to be rude,” he said.

  “Ha! You haven’t seen rude. When we get home, we’re going to straighten some things out between us. When I tell you to do something, you damn well better listen next time.”

  Quinn’s expression went mutinous. Lovely. Maybe I would spank him. Teach him a little humility. Yeah, right. I didn’t dare put my hands on him like that or it would more than likely turn into something very different than either of us intended. And since I promised I wouldn’t force him to sleep with me, that meant no touching. My dragon side definitely disagreed with this plan. Which was weird in itself. It never cared in the past whom I did or did not sleep with, remaining totally indifferent in my selection. But more and more I became aware that my dragon possessed distinct ideas about Quinn Broomsparkle.

  We were several streets over from the Steamy Bean when a tinkling voice called out, “Excuse me.”