Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(72)

Hardwick pulls out a stack of gold coins and places it between himself and the gentleman acting as the bank. He declares lucky number seven as his main and rolls the dice. The golden cubes bounce off the back wall of the tub—almost too fast to track with my gold sense—and land upright, with three pips and four. A seven. The dealer doubles Hardwick’s money, and there’s a flurry of bets as the viewers wager on his next roll.

This time the dice roll up two single pips.

“Snake eyes,” says the dealer, and Hardwick loses.

The banker collects money and pays out a variety of bets while Hardwick gathers up the dice and rattles them in the cup of his hand.

Manipulating the dice will take a lot of concentration. And maybe I shouldn’t do it with Helena Russell so nearby. But the dice sing to me, so perfect and clear, that I can’t resist. Hardwick rolls them again. I pinch my tongue between my teeth to help myself focus. The dice bounce off the far wall of the table and roll across the velvet. They’re going to stop . . . now! One lands on five, and I take the tiniest split second to continue the roll, pushing it toward the six.

It plops over to a four. I need to be more delicate.

Everyone cheers Hardwick’s success. I force myself to smile.

When my turn comes, I reach into my pocket for my last gold coins. I hesitate before putting them on the table. To keep Hardwick occupied as long as possible, I have to win. I pick a number and rattle the dice in my hand. I’m concentrating so hard on the dice themselves, readying myself to flip them over, that I don’t throw them hard enough, and they never reach the wall of the table to bounce back.

“Can I try again?” I beg, and most folks are for giving the little lady a second chance, so the dealer gathers the dice and hands them back to me for another throw. I hold them up to the baby in Becky’s arms and make a kissing noise. “For newborn luck,” I say.

The baby opens her mouth and tries to eat them, which I take for a good sign.

This time my throw goes better. After the dice bounce, I beckon with my fingers, one on each hand, tugging the dice toward me until I get the nick and double my money.

Feeling nervous, I grab my original coins and pull them back to me, leaving only my winnings. A future stake. If I’m going to bet, from now on it will only be with Hardwick’s money.

As Hardwick and I go back and forth, my world shrinks to the volume of two golden dice. At first I make a lot of mistakes, lucky to move the dice at all and make it look natural. But as we take turns, my skills improve, and not coincidentally with it, my luck. Hardwick loses more money than he wins, and I win more than I lose. My focus is razor sharp. Maybe too sharp. Surely Helena can sense what I’m doing.

Becky becomes very tense every time I throw the dice. “I start to see why Mr. Joyner enjoyed the thrill of gambling,” she confides to me in a whisper.

“Henry, too,” I say. “Sometimes it feels good to take a chance on something.”

Though I’m doing my best to make sure no chance is involved. Hardwick has been betting on my throws, and I start betting on his. Even when he wins, I win more. Which deflects attention away from my control of the dice.

After a long winning streak, when I’ve amassed a large stack of coins, Helena Russell says, “I marvel at how lucky the young lady has been. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen someone so lucky.”

Her blue eyes are flecked with violet. Just flecks. What does that mean?

Maybe it means I’ve pushed it too far. Or lost control of my thoughts. I should lose the next round on purpose.

Hardwick pauses before throwing the dice. “Come on, Miss Westfall,” he cajoles. “Bet big. Bet like a grown woman and a true Californian. Give me a chance to win back some portion of the money I’ve lost tonight.”

The crowd is all for this. The bigger the stakes, the more they cheer.

I’m in control of this game now. I push all the coins that I’ve won toward the banker. “Will that do?” I ask.

“Surely the Golden Goddess has something else to add to the pot?” Hardwick says.

I hold up my empty hands. “That’s everything.” Except for my original stake, which I’ll need for the journey back to Glory.

“You must have something more.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t—”

“What about the deed to the Charlotte?”

My heart stops. “I couldn’t.”

“Surely you don’t plan to stay in San Francisco anyway. You’re going back to Glory soon, right? That’s why you wanted the town charter. You’ll have no need for the Charlotte if you’re not here.”

“Don’t do it,” whispers Becky. “I don’t trust him.”

She’s right. This was his endgame all along.

“But the Charlotte is my home here in San Francisco,” I say, loudly so everyone can hear. “I’ll stay there every time I’m in town. I’ve grown fond of it.”

“Yes,” Becky says. “It’s not Glory, but it’s a home of sorts.”

If I knew, for sure and certain, that I had provided enough of a distraction already, I would walk away right now. But I don’t know, and we won’t get another chance. I have to keep playing.

Besides, my head buzzes with the power I’ve used. The dice are my servants, doing whatever I ask. The crowd is cheering for me to take the risk. “You’re on a winning streak!” someone says. “You can’t lose!” says another. He’s right. With my power, I can’t lose.