Shadowkill

##

Barracuda stood close to his door, his eyes fixed on Rose. Kikun winced at the malice steaming off the man.

Grandmother Ghost pinched his arm and muttered in his ear: Black bile man, he stinks, baby. You watch him, you hear? He’s up to something and it’s nothing good, you hear? Listen to your ol’ gramma. You get over there. Stand in his shadow, baby. You let him get away he’ll wreck everything, you hear me?

Gaagi danced behind Barracuda, great black beak threatening the man, black scales glittering, wing feathers shuddering around him.

Abruptly, Gaagi froze.

Then he beckoned urgently to Kikun.

Kikun set, his glass down, slipped around to stand behind the man.

Barracuda took a babi slin from the plate the Dasuttra held, ate it, held out his hand to the other attendant; she cleaned it with a lightly scented cloth. “That woman,” he murmured. “Who is she? Why was she invited to this game?”

“You haven’t heard?” The kneeling Dasuttra (a very young, very lovely girl) looked up at him, her eyes wide, glowing. “Ah, Senhuan, she is accursed of god and blessed by the Lady. She has won thirteen days running.”

“That seems… unusual.”

“No, Senhuan.” The Dasuttra at his side had a deeper voice. She was older, surer in her beauty, sure enough to venture a small contradiction. “Jao juhFeyn certifies her, she is blessed by Luck, not by her fingers.”

“Yes, Senhuan,” the kneeling Dasuttra said, words coming out in a rush, “I have heard a woman was cured of muteness by the touch of her dress and the ringing in a man’s ears went away and another dug in his garden and found a treasure someone had buried there.” She looked over her shoulder at the other Players, leaned closer until she was nearly touching his long black robe. “It is said High Ones required her presence. The highest of the High.”

Barracuda made a slicing gesture and the girl shut her mouth. He tapped her cheek, fished in his sleeve and set a gold emu between her lips. He dropped another emu in the plate. “Leave me,” he said and waited till they moved off, then he swung round and pushed his door open.

Kikun followed him.,

There was a short foyer, then a small but luxurious room, identical to the one Rose had. Barracuda crossed to a table with a black case on it, punched a code into the case’s lock, and opened it.

A com. Shielded.

Kikun dropped to his hands and knees, scooted under the table.

He could hear the soft patter of a keypad as Barracuda entered another code, then waited, fingers tapping an irregular impatient rhythm on the tabletop.

“Black House.” A man’s voice, a light musical tenor. Barracuda tapped a second code.

“Tinggal here.” Another voice. Deeper, rougher.

“I need a team to pick up a woman.”

“When and where?”

“Day or so. Tos Tous. Kipuny Shimmery.”

“That’s Truceground. We could be dispossessed if we break truce.”

“She’s offworld.”

Silence from the com.

More tapping from Barracuda’s fingers, speeding up as the silence stretched out. After another few breaths, he swore softly, said, “You know who I am.”

“Yes. But you’re only one. I answer to the whole Council.”

“I see. There’re crowds outside this place. The woman is a Luck Piece, that’s what I’m told, the Draw. Send the team. They needn’t come onto the Shimmery grounds, they can merge with the crowd, no one will notice them. As soon as she’s clear, they can take her.”

“You’ll mark her?”

“Don’t need to. Crowd’ll mark her for them.”

“Yes. Anyone you prefer?”

“Sul Purgis is available to head them?”

“Yes.”

“Let him choose. I want her untouched, with her full vigor on tap. You understand me?”

“Quite.”

“I’ll join you in say… four days. Out.”

Whistling breathily, Barracuda returned the pad to its slips and shut the case. Leaving it on the table, he strolled out, hands clasped behind him.

Kikun scurried after him, vibrating with anger.

Grandmother Ghost waited for him in the corner. Her outline was sharper, her colors stronger than they’d been in months.

Look at him, baby. Monster. You know what he wants to do to her, don’t you? Look at him look at her. I curse him, head to toe. May his feet crack open and rot. May the hair on his legs grow so long and thick he trips on it and people laugh like fools saying see the beast, see the stupid hairy beast. May his knees turn to stone and crumble when he moves, may he know pain without end. May his thing wither and fall of may the rot enter his body and grow upward till it meets the rot in his brain…

Kikun tuned her out. He was sick with anger, but curses were futile things; the only one Grandmother Ghost’s curses worked on was him. He didn’t know what to do. Rose had forgotten him and he couldn’t remind her without bringing himself into focus for too many of the others in here. Play had already gone on three hours, the next break would come after the tenth Chapter. Yes. Another three hours. Maybe. Unless play slowed. She’d have to leave then, comfort stop. Surely her bladder would force that. Did she drink?

Grandmother, he mindshouted, quiet!

Grandmother the Lael-Lenox subsided to mutters, pinched him for his lack of proper courtesy to his elders. What? What is it baby? What do you want?

Did Rose drink anything during the break? I don’t mean just hold the glass, I mean really drink.

Yes yes, that’s smart of you baby. Yes. Two glasses of wine. That should hit her kidneys hard not so long from now.

He settled back in his corner, arms crossed on his knees, and watched the game go on.

Gaagi’s black wings fluttered about her and the cards came well for her, the dice came through again and again.

He could feel her feeling the flow. She began to push the game, her wagers challenges to the others, she played Holse and Grid and Pen with machine speed and sureness, reading the odds, running the calcs, everything in her coalescing for this Game.

She won.

She lost some of the table stakes, but won the Holse again and again.

Her pale skin shimmered in the glow from the chandelier, the fine blonde hairs on her arms were curved streaks of light. There was a power in her that the others felt. They couldn’t see Gaagi’s wings and glittering scales, but they felt them.

Kikun’s anger faded into boredom again as the play went on and on.

He slept.