City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [91]
The King of Fire came alive at night, and the common room was considerably more crowded than it had been before. Gamblers and revelers packed the burning tables packed, and it took Daine a few moments to locate the host. He exchanged a few words with the little halfling and slipped one of his few remaining coins into the man’s tiny palm. In exchange, he received a wink and directions to a table in the inner hall.
On his last trip, Daine had remained in the common room for the whole time, but the gaming hall was the true heart of the King of Fire. The decoration was similar to the outer room—black marble with brass fixtures, darkwood tables that burned with cold fire. Eight massive brass pillars were also enchanted with cold fire, and these spread a flickering light across the entire chamber. Over a dozen long tables were spread throughout the room, and Daine saw a vast array of gambling equipment—cards, dice of all shapes, illusory battlefields, and far more. At the center of the chamber, a score of people were gathered around a circular scrying mirror set into the floor, shouting encouragement to a pair of jousting hippogriffs. As Daine passed the mirror, one of the riders was knocked from his mount, and a roar went through the crowd. For a moment, he seemed to hear Monan’s voice, whispering just behind him: What’s your hurry? Why not stop, watch the games, enjoy yourself while you still can?
The table he was looking for was small and dark, one of the only ones not lit by inner fire. Wrapped in the shadows at the corner of the room, it was currently home to only two people—a gnome dealer standing on a small pedestal and the woman Daine was searching for. She was still wearing her dark cloak, and her body was almost invisible in the deep shadows of the room. But she’d lowered the hood, revealing a flood of inky black hair.
Daine walked over to the table. As he approached, the woman turned to look at him. Her green eyes seemed to burn with the reflected light from the room. Her features were unnaturally perfect, her pale skin smooth and unblemished, and the lines of chin, cheek, and nose all in perfect proportion. He’d seen marble statues with more blemishes. Yet, as beautiful as she was, there was something alien about such perfection, something … inhuman.
The barest hint of a smile played across her lips. “We meet again.” Her voice was soft and musical, set in such a tone to carry over the tumult.
“Well, you bought me a drink last time. The least I can do is return the favor.”
This time, Daine could have sworn her emerald eyes actually glowed in the shadows of the room. “And a man of courtesy and manners. I sensed it when we first met.”
“Yes, well … there is only one obstacle to this plan, and that’s my complete lack of coin.”
She shrugged. As with her smile, the motion was minimal, almost invisible, yet still intensely expressive. “Among my people, we believe the thought is what matters most.”
“As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
The gnome harrumphed, tapping his fingers on his cards. The woman indicated the empty seat next to her. “Sit, then. Play a round.”
“If I had the gold to gamble, my lady, you can be assured I’d first have repaid your hospitality.”
She set five sovereigns and a golden galifar on the table in front of him. “Luck has been with me tonight. Indulge my hospitality a little longer.” She paused, sizing him up with her smoldering eyes. “My name is Lakashtai.”
Daine shrugged. “As you wish. Though I must warn you that I’ve seen little in the way of luck these past few days.” He sat. “I’m Daine.”
She extended a hand and he clasped it, bowing briefly from his chair. He accepted the cards the dealer pushed his way.
“War is not my vocation, but you are wearing the badge of the Cyran army, yes?”
“I’ve been told that it’s time to buy a new cloak.”
“I understand. My people were born in the wake of a terrible war, and we have carried the scars of that conflict for thousands of years.” She studied her cards and then set out a