Page 27 of Shadows in Bloom

“How about a simple card game?” Alandris asked, pulling a deck of cards from his coat.

Kaz nodded his head vigorously. “How did you know I love to gamble?”

“Hmm… lucky guess.”

I waved my hands in front of me. “I’ll sit out. Kallistra will have my head if I waste our coin.” As much as I was thoroughly enjoying going against all of her teachings, I knew my limits.

“Nonsense,” Alandris said, throwing an extra coin on the table. “I’ll buy you in. If you lose all of my copper to Kaz, I’ll just take it out on you in our lessons.”

“She should be worried about losing to me,” Zorinna returned smugly. “I am known to be quite ruthless at court. Half the lords will no longer play a single game with me.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “If I manage to win a round, you’ll keep the coin. That’s my compromise.”

“Fair enough.”

The game was simple enough to catch on to. We were each dealt a hand of seven cards, while one card was placed in the center faced down. The person to the left of the dealer, which rotated every turn, was to flip the card in the center, at which point the race began. There was no order in which players laid down their cards, but you could only play a card one above or one below the card on the top of the pile in the center. The winner of the round was the first player to empty their hand.

It was a chaotic jumble of arms and hands slamming down on the table and into each other’s. The first round, I hadn’t managed to successfully play a single card. The top card kept changing faster than I could even process the cards in my hand. I had to mumble a pitiful apology to Alandris, though he won the round, and thus both of his coppers, back of his own accord.

By the third or fourth round, I was growing more confident. Or more tipsy. Or both. I had successfully dwindled my hand down to a final card before Zorinna bested me. She was just a half second quicker in slamming her last card down—both of ours meeting the criteria to win. I gave the top of her hand a good slap, which horrified me. Thankfully, it only made her, and everyone else at the table, laugh.

I was feeling positively giddy by the time a stranger strolled over to our table. He appeared to be a human male aroundour ages, with cropped blond hair and a deep scar running diagonally across his left cheek.

“Would you be opposed to my friend and me joining in?” He pointed to another male just a table away, with red hair tied in a knot behind his head. “We’re mercenaries. Just got back from a brutal mark and could use the merriment.”

Kaz exchanged a momentary glance with Alandris, unspoken words passing between the two of them. “Sure, fellow mercs are always welcome to join us.”

The blond one took his spot at my other side, introducing himself as Silas. His friend sat beside Kaz. His name was Evander. They were plenty friendly, and quick to learn the rules of the game. In fact, Silas had won his first round after only his second game. Kaz had mumbled something about regretting allowing them to join in, and they’d both burst into laughter. The mood was pleasant enough that I’d almost entirely forgotten about the earlier argument with Kallistra.

After an hour or so of play, we took a break at Kaz’s request. He’d lost over twenty copper, which I suspected was the reason behind his sudden desire to pause the game. We indulged in conversation instead, taking the time to enjoy our drinks properly.

Silas turned his attention to me as the others chattered away. “Are you from around here? You have such unique features.”

I shook my head, taking a sip of my mead. It was an odd comment, and I found myself studying his face to discern if I needed to worry. “No. I’m travelingwith my… friend.”

“Ah, I see.” His eyes lingered on mine. “Would it be rude to ask if you’re a Faeling? I’ve never seen eyes so red on a human.”

I bit my lip, unsure of how to respond. Such a question always posed a risk. Some people despised the Faelings, but some were more disgusted to learn that I was one of them—human—just different. “I’m not a Faeling.”

His reaction was a mystery to me. The more I tried to focus, the more his face blurred into a mess of colors. The room was beginning to spin, with only my hands rested on the table, keeping me from spinning right along with it. The alcohol had hit me at the worst of times. One moment, I was sharp as a tack, and the next, I was swaying, unable to process the world around me. Lights were too bright. Words were too slow.

“Are you a mercenary as well? A Mage?” Silas continued to probe me with questions.

“No, I—”

“Why don’t we call it a night?” Alandris interrupted, placing a hand on the small of my back.

Silas flicked his eyes to the male, his tone turning darker. “Of course, Mage. If you’re tired, I won’t keep you.” He looked back at me, then. “But perhaps the lady would care to stay for another round?”

All conversations at the table aside from ours ceased, with all eyes focusing on the three of us. Even in my current state, afflicted by a few too many meads, I could feel the shift in the air. It was unmistakable.

Alandris’ hold on me tightened, his arm hooking around the side of my waist. “That’s not happening.”

“I don’t believe I asked you,” Silas bit back. He reached a hand out to grab for me, only to whip it away just as fast.

I couldn’t process what had just happened with how quickly it had occurred, but the scent was unmistakable. Fire.

“Fucker! What sort of spell did you cast on me?” Silas blew on his fingers, the skin instantly turning red. He rose to his feet, a hand reaching back to the sword at his belt.

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