The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [82]
The Grand Oracle’s eyes creased in amusement. “I had that very hand only last week. Four Ladies and I turned over the Ace of Skulls. Lost everything. I was sick as a dog. You play Rake?”
“Oh, I’m just an eager amateur.”
“Perhaps you’d care for a hand or two in the parlor? If the lady wouldn’t mind, of course?”
“Darling?” Frey inquired sweetly.
“Please, go ahead. You menfolk must have your games,” said Amalicia. She gave Frey a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Nicely done,” in his ear. Then she drifted off across the room in search of other conversation.
Frey walked into the parlor with the Grand Oracle. It was a small, cozy room with high windows looking out over the square. The air was rich with the scent of cigars. Several tables had been laid out, some for cards and some for other traditional parlor games like Peepers and Whizzbang. All of them were occupied, but Frey spied a game of Rake in the corner with a few seats free.
“I imagine having the Allsoul on your side must be a bit of an advantage in cards,” Frey commented, as they made their way to the table.
The Grand Oracle smiled. “If only I were allowed to abuse my talent so. Are you of our faith?”
“My parents brought me up to worship only cold, hard currency,” Frey lied. “I’ve always felt there had to be more to life than that, but …” He shrugged. “Maybe I never found the right teacher.”
“Hmm,” said the Oracle. “Or perhaps you are not aware of what the Awakeners can do for you. Through us, the Allsoul’s favor may be begged to know the future and even to change it. A great asset in business.”
“I’d heard it was possible, but I never understood how.”
They took seats at the table, returning the nods of the other players as they settled themselves.
“The patterns of the air, the turning of water in a bucket, the arrangement of a shuffled deck—all these are part of the Allsoul’s pattern. Nothing is random. There is nothing it does not touch. But through the Cryptonomicon, we have the wisdom to interpret these signs as the voice of the Allsoul. And those with especial skill can arrange signs to speak to the Allsoul itself and be understood.”
“Amazing,” said Frey, as he emptied out a purse of money that he’d borrowed from Amalicia. “The arrangement of a shuffled deck is part of the Allsoul’s language?”
“Indeed it is,” Pomfrey smiled.
Frey whistled. “I think I’m about to lose a horrible amount of money, Grand Oracle.”
Pomfrey chuckled as the cards were dealt. “The Allsoul’s will be done.”
FOUR HOURS LATER, THEY were still at it. By then only Frey and the Oracle were left at the table. Frey had been carefully eliminating all the other participants and then losing his winnings to Pomfrey. The standard of play was shocking. Manipulating the game was no trouble at all for someone like Frey, who’d spent a sizable fraction of his life in Rake dens.
Early on, Frey had snagged a manservant and told him to bring a bottle of rum. He’d been aggressively filling everyone’s glass ever since, especially the Grand Oracle’s. Pomfrey was long past the point of refusing as he topped him up again.
“I have a Run!” he declared, showing his hand triumphantly.
Frey looked. A Run was five cards of any suit in numerical sequence, without a break. Pomfrey had three, four, six, seven, and eight.
“So you do.” Frey smiled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. He pushed the pile of money, gathered from the other players, toward the Grand Oracle. “You really do have the Allsoul on your side.”
“Ha!”
Frey dealt the cards again, then caught sight of Crake and surreptitiously motioned him over. Crake ignored him. He was still talking with Samandra Bree. In fact, he hadn’t left her side all night. Frey tried again, more vigorously. Crake pretended not to see him, until Frey’s flailing became so pronounced that he was in danger of toppling off his chair.
“What are you doing?” asked the Grand Oracle blearily.
“I have a friend I’d like you to meet,” said Frey, as a sullen Crake joined them at the table. “Damen Morcutt, this is Grand Oracle Pomfrey.”
Pomfrey was too interested