Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(11)

Though he knew that what Englass had done to his people, using siphoning spellwork to steal their magic away, was foul beyond words, Alfie could hardly stop himself from snatching the books off the table and making a run for it. One of these books might have the kind of spell Alfie had been desperately searching for—the magic that could help him find Dez. If there was any place that would study the spellwork necessary to pull propio from one body to another, it’d be Englass. The girl who’d disappeared Dez into that black void had done so with her maldito propio, so if he could find a way to pull her propio into his body, then he could open the void and go rescue Dez himself. It was his only chance, he knew it.

With his focus gone and his thoughts knotted around the books, Alfie’s propio fell away. The hues of magic coloring the players disappeared.

“Tonight’s game, lady and gentlemen,” Rayan said with a flourish, “is cambió.”

There was a frustrated murmur around the table, but Alfie could barely stifle a smile. He and Luka had spent too many nights playing cambió. It was a timed game that was equal parts luck, strategy, and, of course, magic. While the hourglass ran, players drew cards from the deck or could even pluck a card from the player to their left in hopes of getting the strongest hand.

Then there were the charmed cards.

At the start of the game, each player was given five cards to charm with their magic. Then the charmed cards were shuffled back into the deck and distributed among the players. Cards could be charmed favorably or unfavorably. A charmed card could ruin your hand, changing your emperor card to a jester before your eyes. Or the opposite could happen and a charmed card could help you. When the hourglass ran out, the best hand took home the prize.

“Clean or dirty?” the Tiger asked. His voice was too cool, calculated. He sounded like someone who lurked behind dark corners, waiting for his prey to pass a little too close.

“Dirty,” Rayan said with a smile.

Anticipation surged through the table. Alfie’s eyebrows rose beneath his mask. Rayan wouldn’t make the game dirty unless the players knew enough spoken magic to play properly. These people must be more educated than the usual sorts he invited. Probably wealthy merchants and nobles looking to add something rare and illegal to their collections. Even so, Alfie hadn’t expected Rayan to allow a game of dirty cambió, with the risk of a player dying on his property. Now each player was in more danger than they had been just a moment ago.

Well, everyone except Alfie.

“Wépa!” The boy in the monkey mask to Alfie’s right gave a crow of excitement, his wiry body jolting with anticipation. He drummed his fingers on the table as if the game couldn’t start soon enough. He hadn’t had the chance to observe this boy’s magic. Alfie focused on him. His magic was a lemony yellow, energetic and surging. Alfie watched the boy’s twitching fingers. He was someone who could barely sit still, let alone win a game of cambió. No one to worry about.

With a flourish, Rayan pulled the deck of cards out of its small, ornate box.

“Mezclar,” he commanded. As if they were carried by a whirlwind, the cards spun around each other until he called them back to his hand. With another word of magic from Rayan, five cards floated to each masked player. “You all know the rules; charm the cards as you see fit. Be as cruel as you like. It is dirty cambió, after all.” A glimmer of mischief lit Rayan’s eyes.

Alfie watched the other players hunch over their cards, whispering words of magic. In dirty cambió there were no rules when it came to charming cards. Alfie hoped that they wouldn’t use any lethal magic. They were here for rare books, not to leave the game with blood on their hands.

But as he looked around the table, each mask more menacing than the last, he feared that the players had no qualms about a bit more blood caked on their hands.

Alfie did a few simple charms on his five cards. One that would turn emperors into jesters, as well as confounding magic to put them off their game, confuse them. He wanted the books, but he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Not if he could help it.

“You’re all done, then.” Rayan clapped his hands. “Regresar.” The charmed cards flew back into his hands and shuffled into the deck.

“Let’s get started!” With another word from Rayan, the cards flew among the players, each person receiving seven. A fat deck to draw from sat at the center of the table.

A moment of silence washed over the players, as if waiting for a charmed card to take its effect. Alfie ran his fingers over his cards and focused; he could see no magic running through them. He didn’t have to deflect any charmed cards just yet. Even better, he had a decent hand.

He was safe. Everyone appeared to be safe. Maybe this game wouldn’t end in blood.

“The smallest animal always starts first. Monkey.” Rayan nodded at the boy in the monkey mask to Alfie’s right before turning the hourglass over. “You begin the game.”

The Monkey bit the inside of his cheek, his fingers drumming ever faster on the table. Then he reached toward Alfie’s hand, his fingers grazing Alfie’s emperor card.

Don’t take it, don’t take it, Alfie willed in his head.

Alfie forced himself to quirk his lips in a barely perceptible smirk, as if he were glad the boy was going to take that card.

It worked. At the last moment, the monkey-masked boy pulled his hand back, sucking his teeth in annoyance. Alfie stopped himself from looking too relieved. The boy reached for the deck instead, drew a card, and returned one of his own to the deck.