“That's the opening suit, too. Unless you're holding the Virgin of Death. If you get her you can open with half ante and double up if you win the round.”
Mallet slapped down the Virgin of Death. He tossed a single copper coin into the centre of the table. “Let's run it through, then.”
Fiddler dealt the man another card. “We ante up now, Hedge, two coppers apiece and High Hell come the Herald of Death.”
Lorn watched the bizarre game proceed. These men were using a Deck of Dragons. Astonishing. The man Fiddler was inventing the rules as they went along, and yet she watched the cards merge into a pattern on the tabletop. Her brows knitted thoughtfully.
“You got the Hound on the run,” Fiddler said, pointing at the latest card placed on the table by Mallet. “Knight of Dark's close, I can feel it.”
“But what about this damned Virgin of Death?” groused the healer.
“She's had her teeth pulled. Take a look, the Rope's right outa the picture, ain't he?” Fiddler laid another card. “And there's the Dragon bastard himself, sword all smoking and black as a moonless night. That's what's got the Hound scampering.”
“Wait a minute,” Hedge cried, ramming down a card atop the Knight of Dark. “You said the Captain of Light's rising, right?”
Fiddler concentrated on the pattern. “He's right, Mallet. We pay over two coppers each automatically. That Captain's already dancing on the Knight's shadow-”
“Excuse me,” Lorn said loudly. The three men looked at her. “Are you a Talent, Fiddler? Should you be using this deck?”
Fiddler scowled. “It ain't your business, Adjunct. We been playing for years, nobody's tossed a dagger our way. You want in, just say so. Here, I'll give you your first card.”
Before she could protest he placed a card before her, face up. She stared down at it.
“Now, ain't that odd?” Fiddler remarked. “Throne, inverted. You owe us all ten gold each-a year's pay for all of us, hell of a coincidence.”
Hedge snorted loudly. “Also happens to be the Empire Guilt Coin paid to our kin once we're confirmed dead. Thanks a lot, Fid.”
“Take the coin and shut up,” Fiddler snapped. “We ain't dead yet.”
“I'm still holding a card,” Mallet said.
Fiddler rolled his eyes. “So let's see the damn thing, then.”
The healer set the card down.
“Orb.” Fiddler laughed. “True sight and judgement closes this game, wouldn't you know it?”
Lorn sensed a presence at her back. She turned slowly to find a bearded man behind her. His flat grey eyes held hers. “I'm Whiskeylack,” he said softly. “Good morning, Adjunct, and welcome to Darujhistan.”
He found a nearby chair and pulled it to the table, sitting down beside Hedge. “You'll want a report, right? Well, we're still trying to contact the Assassin's Guild. All the mining's done, ready for the order. One squad member lost thus far. In other words, we've been damn lucky. There are Tiste And? in the city, hunting us.”
“Who have you lost, Sergeant?” Lorn asked.
“The recruit. Sorry was her name.”
“Dead?”
“Been missing for a few days now.”
Lorn clenched her teeth to bite back a curse. “So you don't know if she's dead?”
“No. Is there a problem, Adjunct? She was just a recruit. Even if she'd been nabbed by the guard, there's scant little she could tell them. Besides, we've heard no such news. More likely some thugs scrubbed her in some back alley-we've been scurrying down a lot of rat-holes trying to find these local assassins.” He shrugged. “It's a risk you live with, that's all.”
“Sorry was a spy,” Lorn explained. “A very good one, Sergeant. You can be certain that no thug killed her. No, she's not dead. She's hiding, because she knew I'd come looking for her. I've been on her trail for three years. I want her.”
“If we'd had a hint of all this,” Whiskeyjack said tightly, “it could've been arranged, Adjunct. But you kept it to yourself, and that makes you on your own now.” His eyes hardened on her. “Whether we contact the Guild or not, we detonate the mines before tomorrow's dawn, and then we're out of here.”
Lorn drew herself up. “I am Adjunct to the Empress, Sergeant. As of now this mission is under my direction. You will take orders from me. All this independent crap is over, understand?” For a moment she almost thought she saw a flash of triumph in the man's eyes. A second look revealed it to be no more than the expected anger.
