The Colors of Magic Anthology

Bound in Shallows

The casino was loud, but clean. Lamps burned expensive oil in the open windows. I glanced over the top of low, double doors. The people inside wore bright clothes of silk and brocade, their hair braided and combed as they moved about with the same expression: vague enjoyment, phantom pleasure. They lost their money to Dumoss-Master Dumoss. They should count themselves lucky.

The sun labored to reach the city through thick clouds. The previous night's dustfall had left everything gray. Since the end of the great war, the Brothers' War, everyone who slept without shelter spent the day beating, brushing clothes to remove the dust. These poor walked past, cursing the brothers, cursing the war that changed everything, even their luck.

I was clean. Last night, I slept in my flat.

My side of the street was choked with shuffling people. Bent over, they didn't look to the casino or its patrons. They only looked at each other-general hatred and distrust inflamed by the great war. I knew they wanted to lash out at something, that they were chewing over their luck. Right now their luck was bad. But when it changed, they would be the ones wearing bright silks, they who braided their hair. They'd raise themselves up by stepping on the lives of those around them. Their anticipation, their lust tightened the air, mouths almost dripping like the muzzles of hungry dogs.

They were all wrong. If they wanted to leave the street, they shouldn't step on each other, but those at the casino. I had dedicated my life to this simple idea. I could have told them, but I chose to keep my own council. I didn't do charity work.

There were a thousand reasons I hated standing in that alley. It smelled old and musty and quickly covered me in a film of dust. I had watched the casino so many times from that alley I would have known if a stone were missing.

There were other things to hate. Annise's shift hadn't ended yet. She was still bringing drinks to well-dressed, wealthy patrons. I hated waiting for her, afraid she'd find someone at the casino and leave me. It was only a matter of time.

There was so much tension everywhere, in me. I needed a release, needed to be calm. I slowly closed my eyes and opened myself to the Flow to clean my spirit. I took a deep breath and the Flow filled me, pale and blue, water seen in the distance. I raised myself above my body, imagined flying like a bird to escape the street and dirt and hateful beggars. Hovering above the city, I could tell where the Flow was strongest this year, this month, could see where the wealth resided. The more luck, the more wealth. My spirit drifted.

The hate would not be dismissed. I opened my eyes to the casino. Nothing had changed, not even my mood. Men in rich, blue cloth moved through the casino crowd, the pit bosses. Frowning, I leaned against the alley wall with folded arms. Still tense, I maintained control.

In the window I saw a sudden flash of red hair, the color of the sun setting in the polluted, dusty sky. Annise. She turned, smiling down at someone. So beautiful. Caring for her, about her, was like a dare against fate, the ultimate gamble. No one had ever cared for someone as I cared for Annise. People were too afraid to give of themselves. I'd not yet told her what was in my heart. She'd never told me what I hoped was in hers.

Through the open window I saw her pause, listening, intent. She threw back her head and laughed. I could hear her above the crowd noise, standing in that wretched alley across the street. She gently caressed an upturned face. And still I maintained control.

Stepping into view was Dumoss. Master Dumoss of the casino was heavyset, had thinning black hair and wore red brocade chased with gold at the cuff and collar. Only the managers wore gold. A face built from high cheekbones gave him a youthful appearance, though he had not seen youth in scores of years. Around his neck he wore a pendant. Without effort I could see its place, its focus in the Flow. It had power.

Dumoss snaked an arm around Annise's waist, and she still smiled. He leaned over, whispered into her ear, handed her something. Pulling back with surprise, she inspected the pendant on its chain. She'd lost her smile. He'd made her an offer-I could imagine for what. Dumoss waited for an answer. Annise let the pendant drop, pushed at him, playful, laughing. He reached for her in vain when she moved away.

My control was broken. I dove into the Flow to fill myself and drown. The magic was thin and impure. I stepped from the alley, muscling through thick, dusty lines of poor people to the next gambling game. A vendor selling meat-stuffed bread stopped before me with a little smoking cart.

I gestured acceptance and played a gambler's game on him, a game endured by only the most brave, those with the greatest hunger. It was difficult to find the root of his spirit, the basin of his life's magic, but not impossible. There and then I stopped his heart.

His brown eyes went wide. I instantly let go, but felt no guilt. He would have done the same to me. The man fell over his cart, gasping with great pain. I pushed him aside, out of my way. Fists clenched in rage, I pressed on to where Dumoss pursued Annise.

From my left came the noises of horn and armor. Both sides of the street-rich and poor-scattered, pressing themselves against walls, entering doorways and alleys.

Soldiers rounded the corner and paraded up the street. They didn't look at me, at anyone. My gambler's magic would not harm them anyway. Their hearts could not be frozen. They were strong and protected, returning from the Brothers' War. I knew what they thought, had heard their dim views of this city and its people. The feeling was mutual. To us they were nothing more than unwanted lives, refuse with mouths.

The soldiers were a river I could not cross. Dust swirled in their wake, forcing me back, blocking even my view of the casino, which, strangely, tempered my anger. Annise would be home soon enough.

I left the street, its disparity and its river of men, thinking of her. How long would it be before she gave in to Dumoss? I pulled Flow through me, for calm, for power, trying to set my questions aside. The immediate answer was simple: if Annise came home wearing the pendant, I would know her betrayal, inevitable betrayal, would be complete.

I vowed right then to defeat Dumoss for her. A man could be down only so long before his luck changed.

We lived in the bones of a thing long dead. Our room was long and wide, a landing of exposed slats broken with age supporting four walls made from thin plaster by inexpert hands. Small rocks and dirt rained down irregularly from the ceiling, made worse by the cat upstairs, whose nocturnal pacing kept me awake at night. A few oil lamps burned yellow. The wall facing the street had a window without glass, broken out during riots and storms. When the luck flowed our way, a wind unsoured by the city blew straight in.

I sat on my cot, a flat field-cushion gambled from a soldier, and tried not to think of Annise's bed nearby. Instead, I focused on my precious five cages. How many more did Dumoss have? Five times five? Fifty? My hatred for him was a palpable thing, so that even my animals- salamander, poison toad, spider, rat, and my prize, my beautiful mantis, delicate and green-grew restless. Dumoss used a mantis, his favorite sport. He could fight in the aviaries, but birds were more flash than sport, no real money. They were too hard to use, too much effort.

I didn't always like to play. The best gamblers could feel their magic fade, could taste the bad luck. The smart ones knew when it was time to back away. Everyone backed away sometimes, except Dumoss. He never said no to a fight. That wasn't quite true. He never said no to a fight of his class.

The mantis turned toward me, waved its razored arms, pivoted its head. It knew it was my favorite. The others were in their cages like soldiers. Their spirits were simple and pure, easy to control. The best gamblers knew their animals were the means to greater wealth, a better life. The animal arenas saw the greatest flow of money. Games of Bloodletting, games of Freeze like I played on the street vendor, were simple, quick, but required real nerves. The money from them was thin compared to the arenas where the winners played.

I stretched my arm toward the mantis. Eyes half-closed I drew myself into the Flow and rose above the falling dirt and darkness. My spirit followed a sense of motion and was carried a great distance, almost forever. Time was lost. Slowly the stream stopped rushing straight away. It bent, first in a curve and then in a circle. I had it. I had control.

The ghost mantis stood in my open hand, spirit drawn from its mortality. I could see through it, a mirage, perfectly still. Its corporeal form was still rigid in its cage and would remain that way until dead or the spirit was returned. My connection to this ghost was achieved with careful skill and hours of training.

I focused my thoughts on the essence standing in my palm. It raised its two arms in praise. I focused again. It lowered them. I was in control.

This was the weapon I would use to defeat Dumoss: a mantis. The mantis arenas were the best favored in the city. The knowledge of my secret weapon felt like a hidden dagger, ready for a final, fatal blow. The Flow I had taken filled places in my thoughts like rainwater gathered in pools. Each pool wrought a feeling, a comfortable pressure. I released one of the pools.

Washed, the mantis-spirit glided away from my palm, up my arm, attacking the air in practice like a toy. I watched as its back legs dragged and its body slumped forward a fraction too far. My face felt weighted down with disappointment. I wriggled my fingers and its head jerked up, and the body turned to attack. I brooded over my control, fine for the salamander and toad, but not enough for this difficult creature.

The mantis approached my fingers with caution. Every animal's spirit had its own challenges to overcome.

But I didn't want to wait, didn't want to continue experiments that led to disappointment. More practice time meant Annise would have more opportunity to find another home. I needed to hurry.

The early days, when we first met, were sunken memories. The room had been ours for two years. We found each other in much the same way as everyone else: it was a matter of mutual need. We both needed our luck to change, and we both needed someone to share the cost of the room. I learned she had been beaten by a lover, a string of lovers-one of the reasons she didn't like to be touched. I decided she needed to be part of my life.

My eyes lost focus, and magic continued its spiral from my spirit to the mantis. The time of my vending in the streets was long over. Back then, I knew people. One of those people got Annise her job bringing drinks to tables at casinos. I was proud when she moved to better bars. I felt I had done something good, helped someone worth caring about. I gave up the streets to learn gambler's games, the only road to power in this city, the only road out of this city for someone like me.

Annise no longer needed my help. Remembering that tightened my hungry stomach. She no longer needed my help because she was making it on her own. She no longer needed me. I told myself I was happy for her.

The mantis bit my thumb, drawing blood. My control was solid, but I failed on the details. My thoughts were on Annise. Drawing breath, I released the spirit back to the Flow. It faded and was gone. In the cage, the mantis returned to life and tilted its head.

The wound stung where the spirit's teeth cut my flesh.

I didn't bind the gash, but instead held my hand up to slow the blood, letting some drip onto the floor. Living with my animals, caring for them, made me a good gambler. It made the animals trust, opened them to my control.

The lock, badly in need of oil, clicked under the slowly turning iron key. Carrying a basket, Annise forced the door open with a shoulder, cursing softly. She glared at the door and the lock, cursing everything. I could do nothing but wait for her to complete this ritual of anger. She'd been following the same pattern for several months, since Dumoss first approached her with the promise of that pendant, that magic, he wore.

She shouldered the door closed again and dropped the covered basket onto a table in the corner. Her foot caught the hem of her long, red skirt, and she nearly tripped. She didn't like to be helped. I continued to wait.

Dressed in the rich crimson of the casino, she finally looked at me, thumb bloody, sitting near my cages. She said nothing, remained motionless. Her magic was small, so she was forced to rely on her hands and her beauty.

"I'll make us something to eat," I said.

She nodded, frowning. Annise took from a pocket a spool of thread, needle, and gold lace. Her features were not delicate but filled with strength. She had long fingers and elegant hands.

I nodded toward the lace. "You've been bumped up?"

"Today. Raised my salary." She fell on her bed, slipped off her blouse, showing a colorless shirt underneath made of worn cotton.

I wanted to look at her. I loved to look at her. I hoped she was not angry with me for something. The food was simple, bread and old cheese and water. These fears about her were always more frequent, stronger, when she was near.

"I'm going out. There's a traveling game near the town hall."

She let out a breath. "Please stay with me tonight."

"Do you want to come? You can watch."

No answer. She never watched me game. I asked many times. She never liked to share her most personal effects, and by that token, never wished to share mine.

I said, "I need to work."

"I'm earning a little more money. Can't you give up tonight. Just tonight?"

I piled the food onto a plate and brought it to her, my smile pained. "You had a hard day?" I didn't mention that I watched from the alley.

She nodded. I wanted to put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't like to be touched, particularly after work.

"I have to make this game. The money will buy back some of the things we lost."

Her eyes slowly swept the room. Once we had a chair, a real book too thick to finish in a year, and a mirror. That had been the last to go. Her eyes settled on the cages. Of course, these would never be sold. They were the means to my living.

Her eyes finally fixed on me, and she smiled, nodded understanding. "If I had your magic, I would have better luck. There'd be more money." She waved, despairing, absent. "More magic, more luck. More luck, more money."

I leaned forward to stroke her hair, but stopped myself. Instead I stood to get some water. She threaded the needle to sew the gold lace onto the cuffs of her red blouse, the symbol of rank at the casino. Water from the jug filled my cup. My thumb caught the rim of the jug's handle. It started bleeding again and dripped into the filled cup.

"Let me try the game on you," she said.

"What?"

"That old gambler's game," she repeated with a coy smile. "Let me try it on you."

I turned to face her, smiling. "All right, try it."

Her magic was weak. Her hands fell into her lap, eyes slowly closed. Annise breathed deeply and evenly. I had the sensation of the Flow being drawn from me to her. Time passed as she concentrated on the game.

She lifted her arm with great deliberation, elegant hand palm up, open fingers spread as if they held a melon. She opened her eyes, concentrating her gaze on mine. No longer coy, she held an expression of honest enjoyment. She must have seen little joy in a day.

Her magic sought the root of mine, the source of my spirit. Her fingers slowly closed, and she laughed lightly. There was a vague feeling of constriction in my chest. The mysterious power making my heart pump was being influenced by her magic. The sensation was nothing more than a discomfort. From a more powerful practitioner, it could kill. Surviving was the other part of the game.

I clutched my chest and emitted a false groan. Her magic fell away as if dropped into a ravine. She sighed loudly, drew deep breaths.

"Excellent, very good."

"Thanks." Smiling at her own fatigue, she motioned for the water and managed to add, "Fun."

I stood over her, water in hand. I gave her the water. She drank it greedily.

"Please, more."

Arenas were fixed or floating. Fixed arenas were housed within the casinos themselves and owned by Dumoss and others like him. Floating games were announced in secret, preventing "interference" by players with more magic, like pendants brimming with control, like Dumoss. These true gamblers ruined evenings without effort and drove arena bosses out of business. They smashed chances of lesser players without regret. Nobody ratted out a floating game to a professional. To do so and get caught meant death.

Town hall games were large, loud, and hidden in unused sewers and tunnels. The torch burning in the town hall's high tower announced the arena was still open; no torch, no game. Dustfall started early that night, before sunset. Jogging, I covered my head with a scrap of cloth to keep out the city. Still, my face felt dirty, and my nose itched from dust. Some people believed that the falling dust were the ashes of the dead, ashes from the war. I didn't worry about that much, since it meant time away from practice and training, time too precious to waste.

I entered the arena near a row of houses, all of brick, all better than mine, all kept empty by the floating arenas. There were many such blocks controlled by the bosses, because it prevented major players from learning in advance when and where a game would be played. Invitations came by word of mouth, came quickly to those living on the street, in cheap flats, or parks.

Two men stood in the shadows on either side of the door. I moved to the short line of gamblers shielding themselves from the dust. Testing the luck, I let my eyes drop half-closed: not weak, not strong. Perhaps a trick such as I had planned would win the night. When luck ran my way…

Luck made everything better. There was no other way to describe it. Your animal could do something surprising, your opponent could slip, could sneeze, could look away. Looking away was the worst, the most common mistake. It broke concentration and confused the animal. Good luck made all the difference.

A hand fell on my chest at the door, pushing me back a step. Another hand lifted the cloth from my head. Grunts sounded from the dark, and I was pulled into the darkness. The guards were different tonight, looking for professionals like Dumoss. I ignored them and stepped from the darkness, lamps and candles lighting the path to the arena.

The air was heavy with the scents of dust, dirt, and sweat. Noise from the arena built slowly. My heart beat harder. This kind of excitement was better than the Bloodletting game, better than the Freeze game I played with Annise. People watched the arena, acknowledging the victors. My feet carried me faster.

A game ended as I entered. The crowd jumped to its feet. I smiled and shouted along with everyone else. I'd seen nothing, but it didn't matter. The thrill of the arena moved me. Money was collected by arena guards and given to the victor, someone I didn't know. Faces were hidden by darkness, sometimes washed red by torches.

The arena guard lifted his arms to ask for the next challenger. I pushed through bodies like the arena was a crowded street-men in poor clothes, men in city work uniforms, men in rich blue with gold trim-so many I cannot remember them all. The bright light blinded me, sand shifted under my weight. The crowd was ready for more.

Two chairs sat facing each other in the sand of the arena. The other man-my height, average weight, straight dark hair going gray-was already seated. His magic was new to me but he had won, and that said he must have some skill. The unfocused magic in the crowd made it hard to tell without concentrating. I took the seat boldly but slowly, staring into his shadowed eyes.

This arena was for lizards and related creatures. From the tracks in the sand, someone had summoned the spirit of a snake, a salamander, maybe a chameleon. There were too many tracks. I couldn't tell who had won, but I would have bet on the snake.

Expressionless, the other man raised his hands above his head, palms toward me, elbows bent. I raised my arms, more slowly, menacing, turning my palms when my elbows were in line with my ears.

The guard stood in the middle of the arena, calling for bets. My eyes didn't break the gaze of my opponent, though I heard the shouts, laughs, and curses, and the clattering chips representing betting numbers. Everything was washed in the light of the brazier above. Betting went quickly, but the casinos took more time. Placing bets, collecting bets, everything took place at a rate the poor could not afford.

My thoughts drifted to Dumoss and Annise. My anger returned, but I managed to keep it down. The smell of bodies pressing against the arena finally overpowered the dust in my nose. The place reeked of excitement. My face remained blank; I showed no fear.

The shouts died out as the guard held up his hands, calling for final bets. There were none. He clapped once, twice, turned in place, and clapped again. The din of voices receded to a restless quiet. The weight of eyes and hopes were on us. I dared to think some had bet on me, the newcomer, the stranger, against the evening's current champion.

The guard cut the air between us with a hand and a sharp cry of "Fight!"

I brought my hands together with a clap, my arms outstretched. I reached into the Flow and rose above the noise and smells. The stream stopped rushing and bent toward me, into me.

I opened my palms. Sounds gushed from the crowd. Some had bet on me and were disappointed. My opponent held out a small snake, fast with great fangs. In my hand, spirit drawn forth, was my poisonous toad. To the audience, it looked like just a toad. My expression revealed nothing. The other gambler would not he so confident if he suspected the toad's venom could kill his snake in seconds.

I got lost in the joy of the arena, of gambling. Time was lost as I concentrated on the spirits of my animals, drawing from the Flow, filling the pools in my thoughts with power, then releasing them. I drew more magic, more luck. I felt at ease and fluid.

The ghosts of our animals slithered and hopped across the sand. They had no weight, but they still left tracks. The snake curled and raced to the edge of the arena. I let the toad turn to face the snake, let the Flow run slowly through me. Little sounds of anticipation seeped from the crowd hoping for action, for victory. My confidence was good. Nobody suspected my toad could easily kill with more than teeth.

The snake moved in closer and attempted to strike. I kept my hands on my knees, half watching the spirits, half losing myself in the magic, as did my opponent. Control was easy. I felt comfortably loose as I shifted against the toad's nature to leap and attack. It was a simple creature with a few limbs and a tongue. Poison secreted from its skin. Even its phantom could kill another phantom.

The snake lunged forward. The crowd yelled and laughed as the snake's fang caught against my toad's flesh, but it drew no blood. The snake kept its coils near the toad. I nudged, and the toad clumsily turned and moved an inch, fully brushing against the snake to release its poison.

The toad struggled, breaking my control. It leaped away as the snake bit into the ground. I blinked once. Magic went wild in me. The luck shifted. However, the snake was also lost, running on its own, snapping at the toad.

Suddenly the snake stopped, then coiled into a circle, and snapped at the air. The toad jumped at the snake and bit it hard in the middle, releasing more poison. The snake jerked with spasms that might have dislodged the toad, but the toad clung tight. I couldn't control it or get it away from the snake's fangs. With a final, coiled snap the snake died.

Outraged shouts and laughs burst from the crowd. This was not my usual arena. The toad was a one-time trick. Many animals were immune to its venom. Besides, the crowd would remember my face next time.

This time, however, I had won. There was no greater feeling. I collected my money from the guard and left the arena by pushing past the poor and the better dressed. A stranger slapped me on the back in congratulations. I loved it, loved winning. There was money in my purse, a good amount for the long shot. I'd buy back some of the things the flat was missing. I knew this would make Annise happy.

The luck stayed with me, and I kept winning. The smaller gambling houses took notice. Once I even received an invitation, but I was still allowed at the floating games. People remembered me, and I began to see regular faces, men in rich blue. Annise didn't watch any of the games.

A real candle, scented with lavender for Annise, burned in our old bottle, bathing the room in comfortable light. I bought it in a store that sold only candles in the better part of the city. A store that sold only one thing was beyond comprehension in our neighborhood. Candles were an unthinkable extravagance.

Covering most of the missing slats on the floor was a carpet, worn but not threadbare, woven in a complicated red, black, and white pattern. It, like the candle's light, was comfortable. The man who had sold me the rug assured me it would last a lifetime, said it had been owned by an old woman, recently dead. "Still a lifetime left in it," he'd said as he gave me a cheap piece of padding to put beneath it. His establishment was near the candle shop on the far side of the city, and I struggled the thing home with great difficulty, but I did it for Annise.

On top of the rug were a table and two matching wooden chairs, newer than the rug and in good condition. The chairs were almost a steal from one of the casinos and cost less than a good meal. The pit boss had been instructing his men to take them to market. One quick word from me, and they were mine. I was respected. The pit boss had wanted me to leave with a good feeling about his casino. My good feeling was from winning four nights in a row, nothing more. I took what I could get.

My phantom mantis stood at attention now on the tabletop that I had sanded as smooth as glass. It moved away from my hands, maneuvering. Someday I would face Dumoss in his casino, my mantis against his. My other animals were working well in the arenas, which meant more money. They were eating better, and their spirits were stronger. This was how real gamblers beat lesser opponents. Starvation for the man meant defeat for the animal.

Concentrating on the mantis while I did other things made my control better, made it more dangerous. That was what I wanted-to make the mantis a menace, an unstoppable threat. When the tabletop was smooth, so were the motions of the mantis.

The lock turned quietly, and the door opened before I noticed. There was plenty of oil for the hinges and gears now. Annise stepped in, packages in hand. She had more money, too, but not as much as me. Her hair shone, groomed with a brush I had bought new. We had soap and one towel between us, luxury items. Her expression was taut. Despite our increased fortunes, she still didn't like being touched after work.

Annise faced the table, breathing deeply. "What is that smell?"

The answer was pure joy for me. "A lavender candle."

Her mouth opened, then closed abruptly. Of all the women at the casino, she was the only one who did not steal from Dumoss. Maybe that was one reason he showed her such attention. She could have stolen many such candles. This one was special, bought with affection-earned.

With a flourish, I lifted a cloth covering a plate. Beneath was a grand meal: a fish nestled in sweet syrup, a loaf of warm bread, and fruits so fresh she could smell them across the room. The scent obviously reached her, and she breathed in deep again, closing her eyes briefly. I produced a bottle of wine. She was so beautiful and overwhelmed.

But there was something else behind her smile. She'd brought a surprise of her own, one she couldn't hide. There was a feeling, of power, of the Flow. I'd felt it before-from Master Dumoss and his pendant. My teeth clenched together again and again. She rummaged through her basket for something, avoiding my eyes. She knew I could feel the pendant in the room.

What to do, what to say? What did it mean? Had she given herself to him? Was this our last meal together? After I'd fought and struggled so hard.

I decided to be calm and found my control, deeper now with practice, with success. I could feel the pendant so strongly. If I wore it, the power for my animals would raise me up, higher even than my current status.

Annise stopped her nervous search and put a hand over her throat, where the gold lace was stitched, the promotion from Dumoss. "He gave it to me today."

"I can feel it."

She turned, still nervous. Because she was worried I knew of her betrayal? Because there was no betrayal and she was afraid I would be offended by her acceptance of a gift from another man? One thing was certain: Dumoss was wearing her down. She was weakening, slowly allowing his advances. I'd seen her in the casino from the alley. I knew how she flirted and toyed with him. I'd seen Dumoss slip his arm around her. She needed to be saved from her own weakness with my strength, my success. As long as I was winning, she would be mine. My animals ceased their restless moving.

"Can you feel it?"

Annise brushed some hair from her face and nodded quickly. "A little. My magic is so weak. But it feels-"

"Wonderful." My tone was laced with happiness. We were both gaining the wealth we always wanted.

Annise looked up at me from beneath the shadow covering her eyes and saw my open, genuine smile. She nodded quickly again. "It feels lucky. That's what I'm told will happen. I'll have more magic, so I'll have more luck."

That made me laugh. I didn't tell her magic needed to be exercised, used, and practiced before you can have luck. She thought in terms of superstition and legend. I stood and gestured to the opposite chair. She laughed shortly and put the basket on the floor. She slid past me, without touching. I pulled the chair out, pushed it under her, and set the platter before her dark eyes, glowing warm in the candlelight. I lifted another cloth to reveal newly polished knives and forks.

Annise didn't know what to do. She was open, honestly charming. She gave me little joys without knowing or understanding how much they meant. I would have told her of the pleasure I got if I thought she wouldn't draw away. Instead, I demonstrated the proper process. Following my lead, she picked up the knife and fork, cut a delicate piece of fish, sticky with a slice of orange, and brought it to her lips. Annise stopped, breathed in the scent, then tasted the fish, luxuriating in the flavor.

I poured the wine into matching glasses while Annise chewed slowly, her eyes closed. Smoke from the candle curled into wreathes around her hair and spiraled toward her throat. The pendant filled me with the same languor as her eating. I reached out to touch it. Her eyes were closed; she wouldn't know, if I was careful. My animals were no longer calm. They were moving back and forth, excited.

Annise breathed deeply. I jerked my hand back just before she opened her eyes. Smiling at me over the rim, she sipped her wine, oblivious. I filled her cup again before she could find words, then finally sat down. Annise motioned me to eat, but the power of the pendant drew away my appetite. I forced myself to swallow anyway.

Some words passed between us, but we were both in different places-elevated-she by the grandeur of my offerings, I by her joy of the moment. My thoughts slipped to the pendant. I couldn't help it. This was what real gamblers had, what kept them apart from the poor more than doors and walls and guards. Everything I'd tasted up until then was nothing but rainwater, impure- the shallows. I wanted more of this power, for it would give me victory over Dumoss and let me keep her.

"What?" she asked.

I was staring at my mantis. My mouth was dry. I'd been muttering. Something needed to be spoken, something deep in my thoughts, something true. It was a gamble to bring it out, but I'd been lucky these past weeks.

"I said… I appreciate you. Just appreciate you."

I knew no man had ever told her more than that he wanted her. I suspected she heard it often at the casino from pit bosses and gamblers. I could picture them, the same look in their eyes when they glanced from her to the arena, the arena to her. They wouldn't see any difference in the prizes.

She blinked into the candlelight, smoke bringing tears to her eyes. She wiped them away and laughed. "Eat," she said.

A single, clean river ran through the city before the soldiers and the Brothers' War. My time then had always been spent working. Pushing vending carts had often taken me to the riverside. There were opportunities to steal moments, wash my face, rinse my aching feet.

Sunlight would make the river silver, sometimes too bright to look at. Stars created a ribbon of sparkling jewels-like Annise-too precious to touch. In the city there were few fish, if any, and nobody tried to catch them except the boys. They threw them back to be caught again.

One day back then the horizon-the mountains- were hidden in a red haze, sunlight angry till it rose overhead, again turning yellow. Birds lifted and flew away. Small animals hid themselves. The boys still caught fish, at least the dead ones that floated on top. That night, the moon burned the same angry red, even overhead. The river was no longer the plane of silver, the band of jewels. It became blood, became a black gash through the city. That was when the first dust fell.

I remember when all the birds left, streets vacant of their calls and songs. Everyone felt the danger, even with weak magic-everyone in the city had some. The sun stayed red till it set. The sky had no stars. The dust fell more thickly.

The great wave of heat and wind from the mountains happened when I was out with a cart. The morning was warm, nobody was buying, staying indoors, protected, they thought. I had wanted to wash my face. The water from a public fountain had stopped, clogged with dust. There were dead animals, squirrels in trees, mice, young birds who hadn't the strength to fly or sing. My gaze went to the mountains, wind rustling my hair. I could feel a power drawing near, outside my body, inside the Flow. At the time I knew little about it. There may have been a scream.

Then I was knocked over by wind, heat, and dust. Clouds coughed up the flesh of mountains, ashes choked the sky. Roaring power shot through the city, scattering everything. This was the power, we learned, of the Brothers' War. This was the aftermath of destruction.

Days and days passed when the only sound was the howl of outrage, of wind and dust and rocks pelting buildings, devouring the essence of the city, drinking its life. What remained collapsed from its own weight. Buildings fell, some overnight, and nobody could walk the streets. I huddled beneath dusty stairs for three days without food or water, staring into thick, rushing air. Things crawled over me. I didn't move.

The city was wrecked. The storm, as if alive, moved to find fresh prey. Memories of the end are cloudy now, but this memory is clear. Something changed, tore away the mantle of my previous life. I was determined to live. I reached down and by a shear force of will I survived. At the end of those three days I had found power-new, confused power relegated by luck. Nothing after that was ever the same.

Before it could recover, the city was set upon by soldiers leaving the Brothers' War. They took everything of worth. Like the wind, the soldiers cut a line from the city's past to the city's bent future. It took a long time to rebuild from the initial plunder.

I noticed a change in myself, as well as the city and the people. The end of the Brothers' War started smaller wars all over the world-fortunate against unfortunate, rich against poor, those with magic against those without.

Crawling, I had returned to collect the remains of the cart. I still wanted to wash my face. Most of the animals were dead, more bodies in the streets. Reaching into the river, I felt new, ugly sensations of death, failure, and hatred. The river was gone. My hand was covered in riverbed muck, gray ooze-a cold, sucking, solid mass that slid down my fingers toward my arm as if it were hungry. I shivered then, though the air was uncomfortably warm. The mass fell away from my hand with a hard shake. It left behind not a smell but a strange memory of weakness, fear, and failure.

I buried my rat now in the river muck. I'd had it with me for five days. The riverbed was still moist, though nobody knew why. There was little rain. All these memories of the city returned with the failure of my magic, my control. I had matched the rat against another player's snake at one of the bigger houses. The snake was fast, but my control over the rat was faster. The duel went on for some time, and I never let up. Then, when the rat was finally ready to strike, I lost control, just for a moment. The Flow stopped, the luck changed. One moment was long enough for the snake to strike. I had lost for the first time in a long time.

The other player had figured me out, had figured out my magic. I had seen this man several times, watching me. He was dressed in rich blue, gold lace at the cuffs and collar, the color of a pit boss's clothes. Gold lace meant he was from the casino of Dumoss. If he had been sent against me, Dumoss was a greater enemy than I suspected.

The little cage and animal sank from sight. With it went a measure of my blood, my life. Annise was doing much better, luck from the pendant served her well- better than I feared. My failure was like the death of the city, the death of my hope, my life.

I spent five days alone brooding over the death of my rat. When she came home, I was already gone. When she could find me, I told her I had somewhere important to go. I could not meet her eyes. She knew about my loss because she could see a cage was missing. She said nothing, we never questioned one another. She did not want to be touched, I did not want to be questioned. I longed to touch her, the pendant. I was sure I could have won if it had been with me.

There was something in my magic, a weakness, something the player in blue found by watching. I sat at the edge of the dead river, staring at the mountains. What did he see? Dust fell on me at night. I ferreted into old buildings, avoided the gaze of the shuffling poor. They angered me, with their eyes filled with pity.

They would not pity me if I had control, if I had won. Control was everything. My control was imperfect, and the man in blue knew it. It didn't matter to him if the Flow changed. It only affected me. I couldn't find an answer to my question. How would I live without her if I couldn't win?

Days and nights passed. I ate nothing, only drank from the few working public fountains. Dust hung on me in layers, night after night after night. I stood in the alley, every stone where it should be, watching her through the window. She smiled and laughed, touched the shoulders of patrons and pit bosses. And Dumoss. She worked and laughed, pretending she was not thinking of me, of my losing. All around her were winners, real gamblers. Her attraction for them was obvious, her betrayal to me could not be far. I had to work faster, harder.

All week, I took the spirits of little creatures at random and tried my magic on them. Insects and small animals were returning from wherever they hid when the great storm came. If they didn't perform as I commanded, my precious mantis killed them. I grew weak but was too determined to give in to fatigue. I didn't recognize time, only light and darkness. Dawns and twilights were gone to me. There was rain, and dust, and darkness, and light.

At the end of the week, two creatures were left, a bee and a spider. The others died. I made the bee do tricks, the spider the same-different creatures, same control.

The bee's spirit waited patiently for my command. The spider moved about restlessly as I pondered. My clothes lost all color. I felt a sudden need to wash. The bee twitched in my hand.

Waiting on my upturned palm, the bee twitched again, and again at distant intervals. The magic felt weak but even, and a bit muddy. It had felt stronger the day before, and the bee had twitched then as well. Picking at the Flow did nothing to the bee. I waited for the twitch, then poked the bee with magic. Nothing. I crushed the spirit in my hand.

The next week I spent eliminating the part of my magic that made the bee twitch. The snake ate my rat when it hesitated, and I eliminated that, too. Pushed by desperation, I figured it out. Maybe I discovered luck. Maybe the pendant hanging from Annise's throat was the cause. I was going to win again. The mantis would be ready. I would fight only in the mantis arenas-new magic, new control. She would have to stay.

I was invited to the Sun casino because I had won for two weeks straight. I was a rising star again. My game was strong. My wealth grew with my new magic. I had experienced nothing like this before-on top and still rising. It would have been nice if Annise had come to watch. She never watched me play.

Nothing in the room changed. The lavender candle was still in the bottle, long burnt. Its scent lingered. When she returned from work, nothing was different- no questions. She looked at me just the same. I was happy everything was the same, afraid things might have changed in my absence. She might have thought more about leaving. Everything was going to be better-for her as well as me.

At night I would dream of the Flow, swim in it, drink of it from her bed near mine. The pendant lay across her throat, whispering of victory. I found what I needed to kill the praying mantis of Dumoss. The pendant could give me that power. That's what I wanted-to kill that praying mantis and claim my place in this city, above the poor, forever under foot when I walked past. I wanted Annise with me.

One night while she slept, I reached out to touch the pendant. She stirred. I almost touched her throat. I wondered where, how, she got that prize, that incredible prize. I wondered who she let touch that throat. Dumoss? The pit bosses? I saw them all through the window. She passed time with them, touched their shoulders, arms, maybe caressed a cheek, and always smiling. All with no regret-nothing. I pulled my hand back and clutched my fist to my chest. She would be with me. My new control could give me that.

Staring at the skeleton of the ceiling, I wondered whether Dumoss, sitting somewhere, had heard tales of how good I had become.

He had. Standing inside a casino, the player who killed my rat, a pit boss in blue with gold lace, said Dumoss wanted a challenge. Dumoss wanted to play me that night. My face was blank, a gambler's trick. In my mind I was calm. I was ready.

The pit boss stared at me. He said I could never win, no matter how good my magic. He called me king of the dirt. He said that my luck didn't make me a loser, but that being a loser made my luck.

I returned home to Annise waiting at the window. She stared, sipping from a cup of water and said, "I'm leaving."

The sensation in my chest was like the gambler's game, Freeze, someone constricting my heart. "What?"

"I'm leaving you," she said, hair burnished by fading sunlight. She put a hand on the pendant, ran her fingers along its edges. "I'm going to be off on my own."

"This is because of Dumoss, isn't it?" The constriction continued. I felt heat on my skin but cold inside. My animals thrashed against their cages, feeling my fury.

Annise shook her head slowly, not looking at me. "Dumoss has-"

I raged in place. "Liar! This is because of Dumoss!"

Clutching the pendant, she turned back to the window. I couldn't see her face. She was not wracked with sobs, as I wanted her to be, or torn with sorrow, as I deserved to see her. Slowly, she nodded her acknowledgment and confessed her lie.

"You are leaving because you think he offers you more!" My animals hissed, rattled, ran in circles. "I will give you the same."

"You can't." She had pity in her voice. "We have been together some time, and I can't give you what you want." Her free hand fell from the pendant to rest on her shoulder. "I can't give myself to you."

"And you can with Dumoss?"

"No, not with Dumoss."

I smashed my foot into the floor. A slat cracked beneath the carpet, the carpet I had bought for her. "If not with Dumoss, then with who?"

Annise shook her head again and shrugged. "I don't know. But I know I must leave here."

"You must leave here." I laughed, a short, acid laugh. Blood boiled in my animals. I turned toward them. The salamander hurled itself against the bars of its little cage and died. I flinched. Another piece of me was gone. More of my life was gone. Like Annise.

There was still a chance. If I defeated Dumoss, my mantis against his, she would stay. I knew it. I thought of all the dreams inspired by the pendant. Using it against Dumoss would show her his weakness, show her that he could never give her what I could. He was a real gambler, but his luck would change. It would change that night, and I would be the one to change it.

Annise stood, straightened her dress with the gold lace around the cuff and collar. She ran a hand through her hair. "I have no bags. I won't take anything with me."

"Give me the pendant."

She looked me in the eye and blinked slowly. "What?"

"The pendant." My hand reached out. "Give it to me."

Annise turned her shoulders defensively and raised her hand to cover the pendant. Her expression said she would not give it up. "It is my new luck. For the first time-

"Don't you dare say for the first time you are lucky!" I bellowed. "Your luck started when we met."

She tried to move past me, toward the door. Her eyes never left me. Her feet stepped silently on the carpet. She slipped from my sight, but I knew she needed me. I turned toward the mantis. Its black, hintless eyes watched me. It waited patiently in my control. An idea… was it possible? Could I do it? Could anyone?

I stretched my arm toward her. With half-closed eyes, I felt the sensation of motion. My spirit followed. Was it possible? As with other gambler's games, I sought her magic, the root, the source of her spirit. But she was surrounded by the power of the pendant, making the distance immense.

It was too much, the challenge too great. I struggled, buffeted by power, spirit to human spirit. Animals are simple. This was torture to my magic. Yet I could not surrender. She needed me, needed me! I could not lose her to another.

Annise stood enthralled. Concentrating made my nose bleed, my ears ring. I focused on her eyes. Her body was rigid, as when I first touched her, when we first met. My control spun and twisted, fighting for dominance. How much easier it would be if I had the pendant!

I pointed to her bed. She jerked, sobs breaking from her throat. She moved, lowered herself to her knees, then sat on her bed. Tears flowed from her eyes.

She would be happy under my control. Once the fight with Dumoss was finished, Annise would see that was true. I dropped to my knees in front of her and stroked her hair. Bending slowly, I place my hand on the pendant. She tried to scream. I took our first kiss. She bit me, drawing blood.

I whispered, "Everything I do, I do for you."

Dumoss stood on his side of the arena. The sand on the floor was smoothed for our contest. He was dressed in fine yellow silks adorned with rich brocade. The brazier above made him seem old. His face was set in stone, like mine. The pendant was hidden beneath my robes, but I had no doubt he could feel its power. I imagined he could feel his loss already. Around us stood the real gamblers, men and women who were lucky enough to be missed by the storm, men and women whose luck had not changed.

We sat on our short chairs and raised our hands above our heads, elbows bent. The pit bosses gathered the bets. The odds were not in my favor, but I didn't care. I could hear bets being placed on me, but I couldn't see faces because of the brazier's light. The betting was closed.

Then the pit bosses called out, "Fight!"

We both clapped our hands, summoning our beasts- praying mantises large as birds-near the center of the ring. I felt Dumoss's control prodding the limbs of his mantis toward mine. My new magic let nothing leak out. There was no way for him to read my moves.

The two translucent monsters clashed, locking their razor limbs across each other's heads. Magic struggled against magic for the strength to push the insects harder. However magic in the arena shifted, however we struggled with the changing forces, our fighters never released their grips. Our faces were set and solid.

The shouts of the players on the sidelines continued as the fight dragged on. Money had been bet on how long the fight would last. Money had been placed on whose face would show strain first.

The monsters remained locked. I couldn't find a chink in the magic to extract my mantis from his. He couldn't find it. I felt him struggling. Dumoss's magic was truly impressive. It didn't matter that I could feel his control. He could even use that against me, if I became distracted by trying to read his mox'es rather than concentrating on my own.

More money was placed, money for first limb, money for first move, money for anything. I grew more relaxed, more assured of victory for Annise. Everything was for her. Luck flowed to me to beat Dumoss. I knew it, I felt it. His mantis ripped a limb from mine, repositioned itself, and grabbed my monster's head from another angle. The shouts made my ears ring as if I'd been struck in the head. Our faces showed nothing. My mantis cracked a leg of his, and the magic shifted again, farther away.

Then the real fight began. The phantasms fought openly, ripping and tearing to the shouts of bettors on all sides. Our monsters were chipped through like walls of old stone. My control was better, my anger brighter, my magic stronger. I did not let up, I forced my mantis to attack.

Magic moved from the ring, and the other mantis seemed reenergized. It hacked another limb from mine, and I stared hard into the eyes of Dumoss, letting him know with a glance what would come next. I prepared to use the pendant.

But something in my blood stirred, drawn toward Dumoss… no, it was not toward Dumoss, but behind him. Someone stood in the shadow. Light from the flaring brazier glared in my eyes. I couldn't be stopped now, not when Annise would have everything she deserved, everything I could give her. My mantis bit into the neck of the other.

I fell to my knees, my hands shaking. The luck, on that I could depend. All this magic, all this luck would save me, prevent me from losing my concentration. I would have revenge on Dumoss for stealing Annise. I, alone, challenged fate, dared to care for another. The city killed and left the corpses on the dust-covered streets.

I forced my eyes to remain locked on Dumoss's. Clenched, my teeth ached. Blood boiled and pounded at my temples. My chest constricted.

Annise stood behind Dumoss. I couldn't see her face, but her hair glowed red in the firelight. I felt her control on me, strong, seeking the root of my magic, my spirit. She was choking my life, crushing me with a great weight.

She couldn't kill me here. There were protections against such things in an arena. My magic was stronger.

From the pendant I took the power, the pure magic. I rode the crest of her feeble strength back to her source, where her spirit waited. She ran from my attack, ran and didn't turn back. I reached for her, for the final response, stretching all my strength to finally strike her down.

Dumoss's creature snatched its claws forward. The head of my mantis fell to the floor. I forced magic into the spirit, but it was already gone. I knew the body at home was dead. Everything was gone. The pendant was empty. There was nothing left.

Weak and sweating, I couldn't stand. Dumoss was already gone-the spirit of his mantis returned. The arena cleared, bodies shuffling, shadows moving. Annise was the last of them to leave the building. I never saw her face, but I heard the sound of a door closing, leaving me inside, alone. Empty and alone. Everything I had done, I had done for her.