Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(73)

“I’ve got this,” I whisper to Becky. And louder, for everyone’s benefit: “I put my whole stake into the Charlotte! What would the good Lord say if I gambled it away?” If I’m going to do this, I have to make a spectacle of it.

“Lee!” Becky pleads.

The governor himself saunters over. “I confess, I’m curious to see the Golden Goddess in action,” he says. In action? My heart takes a tumble.

I glance over at Helena Russell, whose eyes are suddenly the bright, rich purple of royalty. Something is very not right here.

“Dear governor, don’t tell me you believe miners’ tall tales!” Becky says with a laugh, and suddenly all eyes are on her. She spreads her smile around, bestowing it graciously on each besotted businessman. More than me, maybe even more than Hardwick, Becky is suited to this atmosphere, this world. She’s the one who practically glows in the golden lantern light, and I’m grateful for it. It gives me a chance to catch my breath, to calm my nerves.

Which is a good thing, because the governor’s sudden interest, along with Becky’s charm, has magnified everyone’s enthusiasm, and I hear cries of “Golden Goddess!” and “Minerva!” and “It’s your lucky night!”

“But what are you wagering?” I ask Hardwick. “What are you putting at risk?”

“Besides my reputation?” he asks, drawing a laugh from the crowd. “I mean, I’m taking a big risk being seen losing to a little lady, even one as charming as yourself.”

I grit my teeth. “Toughen up, Hardwick. Put something on the table, or I’ll take my winnings and walk.”

This electrifies the crowd. Cheers of “No!” and “Do it!” and “Place a wager!” sound all around us. The crowd presses in tight, waiting to see what happens.

I start to gather my coins.

“Hold on,” he says. He waves over the crowd to one of his servants, who runs off and returns almost immediately with a rosewood cigar box full of gold coins—I don’t need to count it to know it’s twice what I have on the table, worth more than I paid for the Charlotte. Hardwick starts to unload the coins.

He had this box prepared ahead of time, for it to turn up so fast.

“Throw in the box too,” I tell him, my voice shaking a little. “I like that silver inlay.”

“Very well.” He smiles, puts the coins back inside, closes the lid, and sets it on the table. The same servant returns with a piece of paper, and pen and ink. I scrawl out “Deed for the Charlotte,” and sign my name, and now everyone knows what a disgrace my penmanship is. I toss the paper onto the table.

“Will that do?” I ask.

“Not usually,” Hardwick says. With a sweep of his hand, he adds, “But with all these fine Californians to witness, it’ll do just fine.”

Echoes of “Hear, hear!” rise around us.

“This is a mistake,” Becky whispers anxiously. The baby fusses in her arms.

“Maybe,” I whisper back. I’m flexing my fingers under the table, and focusing my thoughts on the gold dice in Hardwick’s hand. “But I’m feeling lucky.”

Hardwick rattles the dice in his hand and then pauses. He glances over his shoulder, beckoning for someone. Helena.

Who is there, as always, watching. She squeezes through the crowd to reach him, and he holds out his fist with the dice. “For luck,” he says.

She leans in, smiles, and—keeping those shining violet eyes on me—blows on the dice.

Ice cracks down my spine.

Everyone is cheering. Hardwick draws back his arm, and I concentrate, waiting for the moment the dice bounce off the back wall of the table. He flings them hard, and—

One die goes flying over the edge of the table, bounces off the banker, and falls on the ground. The banker ducks down quickly and comes up with it. He starts to hand it back, and then pauses.

“One of the corners is smashed,” he says, almost apologetically. “It won’t roll evenly.”

He switched it. I can sense a third die still near the floor, maybe stuffed into his shoe. Or maybe I’m imagining it. There’s so much gold in this room, and none of it as familiar as my locket. I could accuse him of cheating, but if I’m wrong, or if I can’t prove it, I’ll be in even worse trouble. The banker hands the die around the table, so everyone can see that it’s ruined.

“Alas, gold is so much softer than bone,” Hardwick says. “I guess we’ll have to retire these dice and replace them with an ordinary pair.”

My pulse jumps in my throat. “Sure.”

Becky grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.

Hardwick pockets the damaged die, and the banker retrieves a conventional pair. They’re passed around for inspection, but I can’t focus enough to look at them. My stomach is churning, enough that I might throw up. I’ve played right into Hardwick’s hands again. Hardwick’s and Russell’s. They’ve been steps ahead of me the whole time. Hardwick knows what I can do after all, and he knew I’d use my power to cheat.

He makes a show of shaking the dice again, and pauses to hold out his fist for Helena. When she leans in to blow on the dice, he snatches his fist away, making everybody in the crowd laugh.

He pauses to look at me. “I’ll make my own luck this time.”