Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(131)

“I offered him the same thing,” the silver goddess had said in protest. “And I’d make it far more enjoyable.”

“My wisdom is greater and older than yours.” The half-shadowed god had turned back to Justin. “You’re too ambitious to let your cleverness go to waste. When you’re sworn to me, I’ll share my knowledge and teach you spells and charms, the likes of which the world hasn’t seen for ages.”

“I don’t believe in spells and charms,” Justin had said, even as a chill of anticipation ran through him.

The god had snorted. “You will. And I know you believe in the charms of women. I’ll send you one. A woman carved of fire and ice, who will scorch you in bed and live and die for you outside of it.”

“Wisdom can’t be given, but love can?” protested the goddess.

“He didn’t promise love,” Justin had found himself saying. “He insinuated it.” That had brought a chortle from the half-shadowed man, whom the goddess had then called a cunning bastard. The smoky god, however, had been indignant.

“You want women? With the power I’ll give you, you can have more women than you ever dreamed of.”

“He only needs one,” the half-shadowed man had insisted. Even without seeing his eyes, Justin had felt that dark gaze boring into him. “A woman among women. You’ll see. You’ll know her by a crown of stars and flowers, and then when you take her to your bed and claim her, you will swear your loyalty to me.” Suddenly, almost comically, the god had jerked his head up in surprise. “Damn. You’re no use to me dead.”

A surreal feeling had swept Justin, of being simultaneously in the dream and back in his bed at the inn. And back in his bed, the world was burning around him. He’d managed to blink the dream back into focus and plead with the half-shadowed man. “Save me, and I’ll give you the apple.”

“And agree to the rest of my terms? All the words that have passed between us are binding. When you swear in a dream, you swear with your soul.”

“Yes, yes. Just get me out of here.” Justin had tossed him the apple and woken up to ravens.

Aside from the fact that he had two possibly imaginary birds living with him, Justin hadn’t thought much about the dream in exile. There’d been no glorious woman, no spells or charms, no godly apparitions. Mae had therefore caught him off guard, and he’d just barely been able to twist the god’s words around and dodge the deal. You’ll know her by a crown of stars and flowers, and then when you take her to your bed and claim her, you will swear your loyalty to me.

Justin had argued that according to the words of the deal, he didn’t have to swear loyalty until after he’d claimed her as the one crowned in flowers and stars. Since he hadn’t known who she was the first time, he therefore hadn’t technically claimed the crowned one. It was tenuous footing, but that technicality kept him safe, so long as he didn’t screw up again. He’d used a similar technicality to save him from the training in charms and spells the god had offered—and that was the key. Offered. Justin hadn’t actually promised to do any of it. The god had just assumed Justin would jump at the chance.

Our master isn’t going to assume anything with you anymore, Magnus said ominously.

When Justin arrived at the casino, the crowd was split pretty evenly between plebeians and patricians who had all sorts of relationships with each other. Most plebeians who came to grants were there on business. They were easy to spot, some in groups of their own while others mingled with Nordic associates. Other plebeian and Nordic pairings looked friendlier and of a more personal nature. Romantic pairings between groups were nowhere to be seen. That didn’t mean they didn’t happen, of course. In fact, he could already see groups of Nordic mixers—the slang term for patricians who went slumming—on the prowl, hoping for a discreet hookup.

He scanned his ego at the table to buy his chips, fully aware he wouldn’t have been setting out such a big amount if his emotions weren’t in such turmoil. It didn’t matter, though. He had plenty of money to burn, and as Horatio had pointed out, it didn’t seem like his luck could get any worse.

And it didn’t. That wasn’t to say it improved significantly either, but at least he more or less kept even, allowing him to lose himself in the thrill of random chance. Servers brought him drinks, dulling his memories of Mae. Other players moved in and out, and at one point, a young Nordic woman came and stood beside him. She placed no bet and simply watched the game unfold.

“Do you play?” Justin asked her.

She gave him a shy smile and shook her head. “No. I can’t follow the bets.”

“It’s not that hard,” he said. He generously gave her some of his chips and proceeded to explain some of the rules. She couldn’t grasp all of the strategy, but she caught enough to make some simple bets. A few paid off, and she clapped her hands in delight each time she won. It was cute.

They played for another half hour, and then the girl—who’d introduced herself as Katrin—took a step nearer him and murmured, “I actually didn’t come over here to learn to play. I came here for you. But I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few things.”

Don’t, groaned Magnus.

Justin looked down at her, and her early demureness was gone. There was a forward look in her eyes that brought back all the unfulfilled desires he’d been forced to shove away earlier. She wasn’t a tall, gorgeous ice princess, but she had pouty lips and a dress that managed to display a knockout body while modestly showing little skin. And she was blond. He’d found a mixer after all and hadn’t even had to put forth much effort.