Fighting with fire

CHAPTER TWO

Four Days Earlier

When Lex walked into the Guild of Chroniclers in the heart of the Wither City, he fully intended to do things right this time. He’d just had a little smirk over the Royal Monument and left his old companion, Mr Montgomery Schmidt, standing there. His suggestion that the lawyer tag along on the upcoming Game had been turned down, as Lex had known it would be. He would certainly never have made the offer in a million years if he thought there was even the remotest possibility that the lawyer might accept. He may have come to feel a tiny inkling of liking, and even respect, for Mr Schmidt, but the man was still a doddering old fool and Lex was not going to allow himself to be hampered by him a second time. The first occasion had not been his fault. He hadn’t been aware then that the Binding Bracelets would tie him to someone for the entire course of the Game. Now that he did know, he was going to make his choice very carefully indeed.

Schmidt had told him that, in light of his previous adventures, Chroniclers were practically clamouring to go on a Game with him. And that was true, so far as it went. The problem was that, once Lex had managed to convince the clerk behind the desk that he really was Lex Trent, the man had showed him the books and Lex had been… well.. not much impressed, to put it frankly.

Each Chronicler had a photo and a profile and whilst most of them had quite impressive resumes so far as writing was concerned, it was a totally different story where adventuring was concerned. They all had that pale, weedy look of those who never venture outside unless they have to. And over half of them were wearing tweed jackets. Plus, almost all of them seemed to suffer from an interesting variety of allergies. Allergies, tweed, rather anxious-looking expressions on their round, pale faces…

‘I might as well take another lawyer and have done with it!’ Lex exclaimed. ‘At least they have quick minds, if nothing else! Is this the best you’ve got?’

‘What exactly were you expecting, Mr Trent?’ the clerk asked politely.

‘Well… I don’t know… Someone who doesn’t look quite so wet behind the ears! Someone who can have my back and hold their own in a fight and be good under pressure and think on their feet and be cool in a crisis. You know, that sort of thing.’

The clerk looked quite alarmed. ‘I don’t think we have anyone like that on our list, sir,’ he said. ‘These are writers. But you can look through them all if you like. We have hundreds of names. I’ll go and fetch the other books for you, shall I?’

Lex sighed. ‘I think you’d better.’

After a disgruntled few hours spent turning mildewy pages, Lex had a list of five names, but he was scraping the bottom of the barrel even with them. The clerk said they could set up face-to-face meetings with the five he’d picked out and if one of them was suitable then they could take things from there.

Lex was not at all happy. In his head he had thought that he would stroll into the Chroniclers’ Guild and find a perfect abundance of suitable writers. He had not expected this delay in finding someone and it was making him anxious. The Binding Bracelet on his wrist was a time bomb just waiting to go off. He had put on as much clothing as possible, to the extent that he looked rather like a prophet, but if someone were to have direct skin-to-skin contact with him, even accidentally, then the Binding Bracelets would separate, one would fasten about that person’s wrist and they would be the one Lex was stuck with for the rest of the Game. It had happened once and he did not intend to let it happen again. His companion this time would be his choice, and his choice alone. But he didn’t want to rush it either. He wanted someone who was going to be perfect. You could never have too many advantages when it came to Gaming with the Gods, after all…

So he left the Chroniclers’ Guild with plans to come back the next day and meet the five he had picked out. All of them were fairly young men, in good health and most definitely not wearing tweed. Nor would they die if they accidentally smelled a peanut from across the room. There had been nothing in their profiles that had ruled them out but then there had been nothing that had particularly recommended them either. Lex was disappointed for he had been hoping one of them would jump out at him. After all, his own grandfather had been a Chronicler and yet he hadn’t been a total weed…

But it turned out to be quite irrelevant in the end anyway because, that night on the ship, Lex managed to wheedle a little clue out of Lady Luck as to where her round of the Game was going to take place. And as soon as he heard the words Dry Gulch, his eyes lit up and a spectacular, stupendous, stunning plan began to form in his mind.

‘Why are you grinning like that, Lex?’ Lady Luck said sharply.

‘Oh, I’m just excited about seeing the Wild West, my Lady, that’s all,’ Lex said reassuringly. ‘I’ve never been. And I love seeing new places.’

It was quite true that he had never been there before, but he most certainly knew about it. He’d read books and heard stories and seen pictures. And he knew all about the legend of Dry Gulch House and would have done even if it hadn’t involved Carey East’s family, for Lex made it his business to know about any legend involving treasure..

Carey East’s uncle? Nathaniel East? had been the loony of the family. Cracked in the head, so they said. But the Easts had always had money and influence so, rather than sending him to an asylum, they packed him off to conquer the Wild West. One might argue that that was something of a cruel thing to do considering the fact that Nathaniel was, after all, a complete nutter. But it was better than an asylum. And Nathaniel did have moments of lucidity. Which was why the East family were? just about? able to get away with referring to Nathaniel as an eccentric. So he had gone out to the West and, as the East family had no doubt secretly hoped, he eventually came to something of a sticky end there. But not before he built a house in Dry Gulch. It had been constructed to Nathaniel’s own special, secret specifications and was therefore… something of an oddity, to put it mildly.

Lex had seen drawings of it. He had also, during one of his many visits to the Wither City library, looked at a grand total of five sets of building plans for it. They were all different. Try as they might, no architect seemed able to pin the building down on paper. It was full of secret passages, and it was generally agreed that they probably hadn’t all been discovered yet. There were staircases that led nowhere, and doors on the top floor that opened right out on to nothing. There were windows set into the floor, and corridors that started out a normal size but gradually narrowed to the extent that the only way a grown man could get to the end of them was to crawl on his hands and knees. The furniture was nailed down in practically every room. Even the individual billiard balls were nailed to the snooker table. This may have been an interim measure before Nathaniel found a witch to cast a sticking spell over the contents of the house. After that, almost nothing could be removed from the walls or the floor. The house looked just as it had done for over a hundred years.

Nathaniel lived alone in the house for five years before, one fateful day, he was ambushed by a savage gang of outlaws. The group killed Nathaniel and took over his house, but not before Nathaniel had time to hide his most precious possession-a magical double-bladed sword known as the Sword of Life that he had supposedly been given as a reward for some service he had done a witch. The sword was said to be capable of cutting any material and killing any creature. It was a hero’s sword, made for noble quests and daring adventures. And? most importantly of all? it could give life, as well as take it away. All the years of life that the sword took from the men it killed were stored within the blade itself? until the day when someone took them out. The sword could not bring people back from the dead. Nor could it heal grievous wounds. But if a person was already alive and healthy then it would extend the natural period of their life. They would still die if they, for example, walked off the edge of a cliff, or had their head chopped off, but the natural period of their life would be extended and some of their youth would be restored.

Lex wanted that sword. He’d wanted it ever since he first heard of it. It was rumoured to have a hundred years of life stored within the blade. Just think how invaluable such a thing would be! For the Games and for his thieving and scams. He could extend his own life by a century or more, and carry on adventuring well past the age he would otherwise be able to.

The problem, however, was that the sword was hidden somewhere inside Dry Gulch House and had not been found in over one hundred years of searching, despite the fact that the house had been combed through from top to bottom. Many people said the sword wasn’t there at all and possibly never had been. They said it was a myth. Lex didn’t believe it. He thought the sword was there and he’d always intended to go and look for it one day. Now that the Game was to take them directly to Dry Gulch, the opportunity was just too good to miss.

But the problem was that only cowboys and outlaws were allowed inside the house now. After Nathaniel East had been killed, the leader of the gang who’d attacked him? one Elijah Deadwood? had claimed ownership of the house and since then it had been passed down through the Deadwood family to this day. It was a rough, tough sort of place. Not at all the kind where Lex could just stroll in as himself if he didn’t want to get his teeth knocked out. So, if he was going to make it past the front doors, he would have to learn how to be a cowboy? or at least pass himself off as once convincingly? and he had a sneaky feeling that that was probably going to be easier said than done. Some things you can teach yourself, but others you need help for, and Lex was certainly astute enough to know the difference.

‘I suppose I absolutely have to have a companion by the time the Game starts, do I?’ he said, without much hope.

‘Oh, yes,’ the Goddess said at once. ‘You won’t be allowed to start otherwise.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

The question, therefore, was how on earth was Lex going to find an outlaw from the Wild West in the Wither City within the next few days? Although the odd cowboy passed through from time to time, they were certainly not common for the simple reason that cowboys did not tend to have much money and so could not travel across seas very easily unless they went as stowaways.

The next morning, however, Lex was aware of a flurry of activity as soon as he stepped out on to the harbour. Something was obviously going on, but then something usually was so he didn’t pay it much heed as he pushed his way past the closed-up stalls, being careful to keep his arms tucked in and not touch anybody.

He was in a little winding street about five minutes away from the Chroniclers’ Guild when there was a shriek and someone yelled, ‘It’s him! It’s the outlaw, Jesse Layton! He’s getting away!’

Lex’s ears pricked up and his head snapped round just in time to see a palomino horse come galloping around the corner, hooves skidding on the cobbles, nostrils flaring, eyes rolling. It was a magnificent creature quite unlike the workhorses Lex was used to with their dull eyes and lowered heads.

And the man on its back was just as conspicuous for, in his flared trousers, checked shirt and wide-brimmed hat, he was a cowboy straight out of the pages of a Wild West novel.

Lex only had time for a brief look before he had to jump back against a shop, flattening his back against the wall to avoid being trampled by the huge horse. They fled past and, without a second’s thought, Lex raced after them. When he reached the square with the Chroniclers’ Guild and the Royal Monument he saw a whole lot of policemen rushing off in the direction of the city gates. He was about to follow but he stopped. It was too obvious. To escape the police, you had to do what they weren’t expecting you to do, and, if this cowboy had ever been chased before, he would know that. Lex looked around the square. What would he have done? Sent the horse off in the direction of the road leading out of the city, that much was obvious. And then… His eyes swept the square until he found what he was looking for: The Old Bear pub wedged in beside the Monument Restaurant in the far right hand corner.

Lex headed straight for it, went inside and? because he knew what he was looking for? found him at once. Right at the back, at a table all to himself, sat the cowboy, his hat pulled down low over his face and a pint of ale in his hand already. Lex walked over, pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him.

‘Are you really an outlaw from the Wild West?’ he said.

The cowboy looked up slowly, tipping his hat back with his thumb. Now that Lex could see him properly, he judged him to be about forty years old, with an unshaven face, a nose that had clearly been broken at some point in the past, crow’s feet at the corners of his blue eyes and a long pale scar that stretched from just below his right eye all the way down to his square jaw.

‘Is it that obvious?’ he asked. He spoke with a drawling accent Lex had never heard before.

‘Take your hat off!’ Lex said urgently.

The cowboy stared at him. ‘Now why ever would I do that? This here is my lucky hat.’

‘It’s going to get you caught!’ Lex replied, forcing himself not to glance nervously around the bar. ‘They probably won’t recognise your face but they’ll be looking for your hat. Your best bet would be to give it to someone else. Preferably someone who’s of a similar height and build to you.’

A gleam appeared in the cowboy’s eyes. ‘The old decoy gag, eh?’ He whipped off the hat to reveal untidy, longish brown hair. ‘You’re not as honest as you look, are you, friend?’ he said. ‘I take it you’re not thinking of trying to turn old Jesse Layton in to collect the reward money?’

‘I think you can help me,’ Lex said.

‘Probably, but I don’t help anyone but myself for free.’

‘Perhaps we can help each other.’

‘Can you make the sheriff and his men disappear into thin air?’ Jesse asked, staring out of the nearby window.

‘No, but I can-’

‘Then I don’t think you can help me much, kid,’ the cowboy said. ‘Just keep your mouth shut, eh?’

And with that he grabbed his hat and ducked under the table. A moment later the door opened and five police officers walked in, staring suspiciously around the room. Everyone fell silent at the realisation that there was about to be trouble.

‘Listen up,’ one of the officers said. ‘We’re looking for a dangerous outlaw by the name of Jesse Layton. Someone said he came in here. Any of you lot seen ’im? He’s a big fella with one of them cowboy hats, spurs on his boots and the like.’

‘He was here,’ Lex said before anyone else could speak. ‘But then he left. Went out the back door not five minutes ago. If you hurry, you can catch him.’

The police were halfway to the door when a nearby woman pointed and shrieked, ‘There’s a man under the table!’

‘Oh, don’t worry about him. He just can’t hold his drink-’ Lex began, but it was no good. The police were doggedly coming over to check it out.

Sensing what was about to happen, Lex jumped up from his seat and hurled himself to one side, thereby narrowly missing getting hit in the face with the table as Jesse burst out from under it, knocking two policemen down before they even knew what had happened.

And then there was a bar-room brawl.

Lex had seen fights break out like this before but he had never seen anyone as quick on their feet as Jesse Layton. Despite the fact that there were five policemen there, he very nearly got away. Lex ducked behind the bar as soon as the fighting started, whilst all the other customers headed straight for the doors. Lex was rather disappointed that no one got thrown along the bar, knocking all the glasses off to smash on the floor, for it was the kind of thing you expected in a brawl. Jesse got cornered against it at one point, though, whereupon Lex promptly handed him a glass bottle.

‘Thanks, kid,’ the cowboy said. He actually took a swig from it before smashing it down on the counter and then wielding it in such a threatening manner that the advancing policemen took a few nervous steps back.

‘I ain’t going back to Cactus Valley! You hear me? Not now, not ever! I’m dangerous and I’m desperate and the first guy who tries to arrest me is going to be eating broken bottle for dinner!’

Oh yes, Lex thought, this is the man I need, no doubt about it. He was perfect! What luck that he should have come to the Wither City right at this particular time! Lex even wondered whether Lady Luck herself may have given a helping hand in bringing the two of them together. The cowboy certainly looked like the sort of person she would choose.

‘I’m going to back out of here nice and slow,’ Jesse said. ‘You goons stay there and we won’t have any upsets.’

He made it right to the doorway when a sixth policeman appeared behind him and whacked the cowboy so hard round the head with his truncheon that Lex wouldn’t have been surprised if it had actually come off his shoulders. He couldn’t help but wince as the bottle fell from Jesse’s hand to smash at his feet and, still looking faintly surprised, the cowboy thumped down on to his knees to crumple, face down, on the floor.

The policemen all started cheering and congratulating themselves but Lex was livid with anger. ‘You better not have done him any serious injury!’ he fumed at the officer with the truncheon.

But the policeman just shrugged and said with a grin, ‘The reward poster says, “dead or alive”.’

‘Clearly you don’t know who you’re dealing with,’ Lex said coldly. He pointed at the prone cowboy. ‘This man is a companion to one of the players in the upcoming Game.’

‘Huh. What would you know about it, boy?’ the officer sneered.

Lex drew himself up to his full height? which still wasn’t really all that impressive? and said, ‘I am Lex Trent, sir, and as you no doubt know, Lady Luck is my patron. This man was supposed to be my companion and your idiot henchman has fair near bashed his head in! If he’s not fit to play I will be very unhappy indeed and, what’s more, Her Ladyship will be extremely upset with all of you! And you’d be simply amazed at just how unpleasant your life can become when Lady Luck is upset with you! I hope the reward money turns out to be worth it!’ And then, because these were policeman who couldn’t be counted upon to understand sarcasm, he added bitingly, ‘But I doubt it very much!’

Lex was pleased to see that they were now all looking rather worried.

‘I had no idea,’ the officer with the truncheon said, dropping the thing as if it had suddenly burnt him. ‘None at all. I’m ever so sorry, Mr Trent, truly I am. Please give my apologies to Her Ladyship, too. We’ll take your friend to the hospital straight away-’

‘Hospital?’ Lex interrupted. ‘Don’t be silly. It was only a little knock on the head; I’m sure he’ll be fine. Take him to a prison cell.’

The policemen exchanged uncertain looks.

‘But… sir… you said-’

‘Look, I’m not going to ask you again. Put him in a cell and send for me as soon as he wakes up. And don’t say anything to him in the meantime.’

The officers still looked rather confused but they readily agreed to what Lex had said. No one wants to be plagued with bad fortune for the rest of their days and everyone knew that Lady Luck was one to hold a grudge.

Lex wanted Jesse Layton as his companion for the Game and he was certainly not averse to forcing him into it using the Binding Bracelets, but he would much rather that the cowboy came willingly. He knew from experience that unwilling companions tended to complain an awful lot, and if there was any complaining to be done then Lex liked to be the one to do it. Besides which, Jesse teaching Lex how to be an outlaw was probably going to work much better if the cowboy didn’t hate his guts for dragging him along on the Game against his will. So the trick was to make Jesse believe that going with Lex was a good thing? something that was most definitely in his own interests. And that was likely to work better if he believed the alternative was getting shipped back to Cactus Valley in handcuffs, ready to face the noose. So Lex had him packed off to the police station and didn’t even feel the tiniest bit guilty about doing so.

When word was sent to his ship about an hour later that Jesse Layton had woken up, Lex did not rush down there straightaway but left it several hours until the evening. Better to let the cowboy stew a while, thinking about the fact that he’d been caught and was going to be sent back home for the reward money and then hanged by his neck until he was dead. A few hours spent dwelling on that was bound to make any alternative that didn’t involve getting strung up seem extremely attractive.

When Lex turned up at the police station at about six o’clock that evening he was slightly disappointed to find that Jesse Layton did not appear to be as distraught as he’d hoped. Lying on his narrow bed in the cell, his hands were clasped behind his head, his hat was pulled down over his eyes, his long legs were stretched out with his ankles crossed and he was singing a rather cheerful little song about a bandit who killed an awful lot of people before setting fire to a village and riding off into the sunset.

‘He’s been singing like that for the last hour,’ the policeman whispered.

Lex gave him a cold look. ‘Perhaps that whack on the head from earlier has left him brain damaged. Go away. I want to talk to him in private.’

The policeman hurried off and Lex stopped outside the cell. ‘Hey,’ he said, looking through the bars. ‘You in there. Remember me?’

Jesse stopped singing and tipped back his hat. ‘ Why, if it isn’t the kid from the bar come to visit me.’

‘I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen. My name’s Lex Trent.’

‘Jesse Layton,’ the outlaw replied pleasantly.

‘Haven’t you heard of me?’ Lex demanded.

‘Should I have?’

‘You do follow the Games in the Wild West, don’t you?’

‘Oh, sure. If it’s anything to do with gambling, we’ve got it.’

‘Well, I played in the last Game and won it.’

Jesse raised his eyebrows. ‘And you still have both arms and legs. Good for you.’

‘I’m about to play in another one. I’d like you to be my companion.’

That got the outlaw’s attention. He sat up, swung his legs on to the floor, leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees and said, ‘And why’s that, friend?’

‘Well, it’s a Game. Obviously I need someone who can take care of themselves. But, more importantly, I need to learn how to pass myself off as a cowboy within the next few weeks.’

‘You?’ Jesse said, looking Lex’s skinny frame up and down. ‘That won’t be easy.’

‘I’m a good mimic,’ Lex said. ‘And a quick learner.’

‘Why do you want to learn, anyway?’

‘I have it on good authority that the final lap of this Game will take us to Dry Gulch. I want to get into the house.’

‘Oh, you’re a treasure hunter,’ Jesse replied with a grin. ‘I have to say you don’t look like one. Take it from me, kid? Dry Gulch House ain’t your kind of place.’

‘Have you ever been there?’ Lex asked, hopefully, for it was always better to have a guide with first-hand experience.

‘Sure,’ Jesse replied. ‘Once or twice. But you heard what I said to the police back there. I ain’t never going back to Cactus Valley.’

‘I don’t want you to go back to Cactus Valley, you simpleton. I want you to come to Dry Gulch. Besides, I hate to break it to you, but you are going back. You’re sitting here in a prison cell! So either you return to Cactus Valley in handcuffs with the authorities or you go back to Dry Gulch a free man with me. You’ll have to play the Game and teach me everything you know whenever we get a spare minute. If you don’t think you’re up to it, say so now and I’ll find someone else.’

‘Hey, I never said I wasn’t up to it,’ Jesse said. ‘And I guess Dry Gulch is a fair few miles away from Cactus Valley.’

‘You understand that once you start the Game you’re in it for good? These bracelets will keep us tied to each other.’ Lex held up his wrist to emphasise the point. ‘So don’t think about trying to run away because it won’t work. And I’ll be in charge, understand? You’ll have to do as I say, not just because I’m saving your neck by getting you out of prison here today, but because I’m the player and you’re the companion, and companions must always do as they’re told.’

‘You’ve got an awful lot of arrogance and self-confidence for such a youngster, don’t you?’ Jesse said mildly. ‘Still, anything’s better than getting sent back to hang.’ He folded his arms and looked at Lex through the bars. ‘Well? Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to make ’em send out those reward posters?’

‘I don’t care about what you’ve done,’ Lex replied. ‘All I care about is how you’re going to help me.’

Jesse grinned and then shrugged. ‘Well, all right then. I can tell already that you and I are going to get along just fine.’

Lex had to agree. He may not have trusted Jesse? for he could recognise another scoundrel when he saw one? but he did like him.

‘I do have one condition though,’ Jesse said.

Lex stared at him. ‘You’re hardly in a position to be making conditions.’

‘I dare say not, but I’m making one just the same. My horse, Rusty: he’ll have to come with us.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a terribly good idea,’ Lex replied. ‘You see, I have three griffins and they try to eat just about anything that moves.’

‘I don’t go anywhere without him,’ Jesse replied firmly. ‘I even brought him with me when I fled from the West. I sure as hell ain’t leaving him behind now.’

Lex sighed. ‘All right; I suppose we can keep him separate from the griffins. He was picked up on the road and taken to the city stables earlier today. I’ll pay the release fee to get him out.’ He pulled off his glove, extended his hand through the bars and said, ‘Now, if that’s all, I’d like to make this official. This is your last chance to back out.’

But Jesse looked at his hand for only a moment before clasping it firmly with his own. Instantly, the Binding Bracelets split in half. The black one remained firmly fastened around Lex’s wrist whilst the white one shot off on to Jesse’s. Lex felt a profound sense of smug satisfaction for he was sure he had chosen the perfect companion. Jesse was tough and big and seemed relatively smart for someone with such a lot of scars and stubble. And to think that he had almost chosen one of those wimpy, peanut-fearing writers. He shuddered at the thought of it…

Jesse smiled and said, ‘So are you going to get me out of here or what?’

Lex explained very carefully to Jesse how the Binding Bracelets worked? if they didn’t eat every meal together they would switch bodies and they would stay in each other’s bodies until they managed to find their way back to each other and eat together again.

‘You don’t say?’ Jesse said, examining the white bracelet fastened to his wrist. ‘But I can still drink, right?’

‘Yes. You just can’t eat on your own.’

‘What about chewing tobacco? Will that make us switch?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Lex said, frowning. ‘You don’t swallow it, do you?’

‘Jeepers, kid, ’course I don’t swallow it!’ Jesse said, grimacing at the suggestion. ‘You gotta spit it out.’

‘A disgusting habit,’ Lex replied scathingly. ‘But not one that should make us switch. Chew and spit all you like.’

After collecting Rusty from the stables, Lex and Jesse made their way back to the harbour. Several people shot the cowboy sharp looks, for many had seen him galloping through the town just that morning with the police giving chase behind him. A couple of particularly slow-on-the-uptake people even felt the need to shriek, ‘It’s him! It’s the outlaw, Jesse Layton! He’s getting away!’

‘Oh, give it a rest,’ Lex replied. ‘He’s not getting away, he’s playing in a Game. Look.’ And he grabbed Jesse’s wrist to hold it up and display the bracelet. That promptly made people back off and leave them alone. No one tangles with the Gods on purpose, after all.

‘This is my ship,’ Lex said with a flourish once they’d reached the harbour.

The gigantic, gleaming silver thing was tied up like the rest of the boats but, unlike the ships belonging to the gypsies, traders and tourists, Lex’s ship didn’t bob on the water but floated in the air instead. For it was, of course, a magic ship that Lex had stolen from an enchanter during the course of the last Game. The enchanters were powerful, magical men and so stealing from one of them was extremely dangerous and practically unheard of. Most people were therefore terribly impressed and even a little in awe of Lex when he showed them his ship.

He was therefore less then happy when, after regarding it for a moment, Jesse said, ‘Ugly-looking thing, ain’t it?’

‘ Ugly?’ Lex spluttered indignantly. ‘ Ugly? You’ve got to be kidding! Can’t you see how large and powerful and silver she is?’

Jesse shrugged. ‘Prefer the gypsy boats myself.’

Truth be told, Lex had preferred the gypsy boats too at one time, for they were decorated in many fluttering flags and painted with colourful sea monsters. But whilst they may have looked pretty, they couldn’t fly over land or travel across a frozen sea or soar up into the sky or survive being attacked by sharks or water witches. Plus, anything Lex owned instantly looked all the more beautiful to him for the simple fact that he owned it.

‘I stole it from an enchanter,’ Lex said, just in case Jesse had somehow missed that point.

But the cowboy just nodded. ‘Yep. That’s what I figured.’

It seemed he really was determined to be distinctly unimpressed. It occurred to Lex that a writer would probably have been falling over themselves to congratulate him and tell him how wonderful he was and how heroic and daring and brave and the like. In reality Lex would have been thoroughly sick of this within about five minutes but still he couldn’t help wishing that Jesse would be just a little bit impressed with the ship. He sighed and said, ‘Well, come on then.’

The ship’s gangplank had been destroyed during the course of the last Game so, for much of it, the ship had only had a ladder running up its side. This did not make for happy disembarking, especially when it was raining and slippery. So Lex had had a new gangplank put in. It was only one of many improvements he had made to the ship once he’d known for sure that the enchanter wasn’t coming back for it (on account of being turned into a little doll and imprisoned in a glass bottle).

He had spent some very happy days during his three months back at the family farm working on and improving the ship. There were still a lot of rooms inside it that he’d never been into and these were all marked with a giant X. He’d originally intended to go through them all but, after one slightly unfortunate incident when he tried to remove the rabid, fire-breathing rabbit that had attacked him once before, and the thing got out and… well… set fire to the barn, Lex’s brother, Lucius, had forbidden him from going into any of the other unsafe rooms. Of course, Lex didn’t usually listen to a word Lucius said but, on this occasion, he had to agree. An extremely flammable farm really wasn’t the place to have fire-breathing things running amok in a livid rage. So he had left the doors with strange noises behind them well enough alone. For all he knew, this might mean that he’d have a ship full of dead monsters at some point for, if they were sealed into little rooms with nothing to eat, they would surely starve. But the fire-breathing rabbit had been sealed in the room for at least four months without food and, nevertheless, seemed to be extremely active when it finally did get out.

‘Some parts of the ship are off limits,’ Lex said as he, Jesse and Rusty walked across the gangplank. ‘You can’t go into any room with an X on the door.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I haven’t had the chance to check what’s in there and it’s usually something dangerous that wants to eat you. But the corridors are safe and any room that doesn’t have an X on the door is fine.’

Lex opened the door, they stepped into one of the ship’s corridors and were immediately enveloped in the scent of carpets. When he’d first got the ship it had been covered in mirrors and marble? even the floors? which hadn’t made for a very cosy feel. So Lex had had carpets put into all the rooms he was able to use. It had cost him a pretty penny, of course, for the corridors alone required several huge rolls of carpet. But Lex had sold some of the treasures he’d found on the ship to raise the money. Lucius pointed out that Lex could have spent the money on improving and modernising the farm, not to mention replacing the barn that had been burnt down. Lex resisted this particular line of thought most strenuously at first for the very idea of spending his ill-gotten gains on a barn of all things was quite sickening. And it was hardly his fault that the rabbit had headed straight for it, damn the thing… But, in the end, he gave Lucius some money for a new barn just to stop him from going on and on and on about it. You let one fire-breathing bunny loose and no one ever lets you forget it…

But the corridors, kitchen and bridge were now all carpeted. And Lex was very pleased with the result. He had even rolled around on the new carpets a bit when they’d first been put in? after vacuuming them first, obviously, so that he wouldn’t get all those little bits of fluff sticking to his clothes and hair.

They found a room down below to put Rusty in. Then Lex gave Jesse the tour? showing him the kitchen and the bridge and the room where he would sleep. Lex was planning on sleeping on the bridge as he’d done in the last Game. It was the only room in the ship that had windows, the other rooms all being rather dark, claustrophobic little boxes. As one of the biggest rooms, not to mention the fact that it was the highest, Lex felt the observation deck had rather a nice status-symbol feel to it and saw it as his due to sleep there. It, too, was now carpeted, with a grand four-poster bed and a wardrobe and a little coolbox with some food in it in case he fancied a midnight snack, and a couple of big, squishy armchairs. It was the perfect set-up.

Jesse’s room, on the other hand, was a small, sparse place with white marble walls and just a mattress and a blanket on the floor.

‘They’re new,’ Lex said, a little defensively. ‘The room isn’t big enough for a proper bed. And at least it has a carpet.’

‘Don’t matter anyhow,’ Jesse said. ‘I’ll sleep down below with Rusty.’

Lex shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

When they went up to the bridge there was a white griffin the size of a small horse lying on Lex’s four-poster bed. Half eagle, half lion, it was sprawled there looking rather pleased with itself.

‘That’s Silvi. One of the griffins I told you about. She’s the friendliest. You can probably stroke her without her taking your hand off. But be careful around the other two.’

‘She’s not as big as I would’ve thought,’ Jesse said, nevertheless looking impressed for the first time since boarding the ship. ‘Baby, is she?’

‘Three months,’ Lex replied. ‘Her brothers are much bigger? they’re almost full grown already. They’re probably out on deck. Come on, Silvi.’

The griffin jumped off the bed, loped over to Lex and stayed by his side as they went out to the open deck. The other two griffins were indeed there and were much larger than their sister, coming up to Lex’s shoulder. They were both lounging contentedly in the sun, although they lifted their heads when Lex and Jesse came on to the deck.

‘The grey one is Lukah,’ Lex said, pointing. ‘And the black one is Monty. Watch out for him; he’s really bad tempered and he doesn’t much like anyone but me. They’ll probably get used to you in the end but for now don’t touch any of them except Silvi.’

The only other people who had met the griffins were Lucius? who’d practically cringed in terror whenever one of them came near him? and Zachary, whom the griffins had all taken an instant dislike to, quite possibly because Lex had turned the man into a ferret during the course of the last Game. The griffins seemed to be able to smell it on him still, even now. It made a pleasant change to show them to Jesse when the cowboy was quite obviously as impressed by them as he should be.

They had been up on deck for only a few minutes when Lady Luck appeared beside them.

‘This is-’ Lex began, intending to introduce Jesse.

But the cowboy, it seemed, needed no one to do the introductions.

‘The Goddess of Good Fortune, of course,’ he said, sweeping off his hat with a flourish and giving a gallant bow. ‘My Lady, I would recognise your beauty anywhere.’

‘Dear me, how sweet you are,’ Lady Luck fluttered girlishly. ‘Lex, who is this charming-’

‘Jesse Layton, ma’am. At your service,’ the cowboy said, straightening up and actually taking one of the Goddess’s gloved hands to press a kiss to the back of it.

Lex was quite, quite horrified. How had he not foreseen this? Lady Luck loved scoundrels and rogues and rotters and rascals. Lex himself was, of course, all of those things but so, clearly, was Jesse. And whilst Lex was usually glad of his honest face? for it made scams so much easier when you looked like a gutless twerp? he had to admit that, on occasion, the scarred, stubbled, rugged look would come in handy, too.

‘Oh, good choice, Lex,’ Lady Luck gushed. ‘I like this one much better than that lawyer.’

‘Yes, I’m sure he’ll do just fine,’ Lex said, practically slapping Jesse’s hand out of the Goddess’s and giving him rather an evil look as he did it.

He did not mind double-crossing Lady Luck and, indeed, he had done it before, but he was not favourably inclined towards being double-crossed himself and a God could only have one player. Lex didn’t like the way the Goddess was looking at Jesse? not one bit.

‘Is there something you want particularly or have you just dropped by to get in the way?’ Lex snapped.

‘Someone got out of the wrong side of bed this morning,’ the Goddess huffed and Lex cursed himself for being bad tempered when Jesse, drat him, was being so pleasant.

‘I just thought you’d like to know,’ Lady Luck said coolly, ‘that I have it on good authority that Kala is planning to use Jeremiah East as her player.’

‘Jeremiah… East?’

‘That’s right,’ the Goddess said with a smile. ‘The grandson of the famous Carey East himself.’