The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,76

'em would get killed in the first bar they walked into.'

'There you go. Now stop thinking they're better than you, 'cause they ain't. I mean, aren't.'' She rolled her eyes. 'All them etiquette lessons. Waste of good shooting time.'

'I like the way you talk,' Crake murmured into his glass, but nobody heard him.

'Y'know, Samandra, you're right,' said Frey. He was feeling considerably better. 'Who do these rich folk think they are? They're not better than me!' He looked at Crake, then down at the drink in his hand. 'Stay sharp, remember?'

'Stop fretting, Cap'n,' Crake said. 'It's under control.'

Samandra slapped Frey on the shoulder. 'Go out there and get em.

Frey headed back to Amalicia, and met her coming the other way, a look of urgency on her face.

'Where've you been?' she asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, she slipped her arm through his and motioned towards a pudgy man on the other side of the room, who looked rather lost. 'That's the Grand Oracle. Now's our chance.' She propelled him towards their target. 'Just smile a lot, and I'll do the rest.'

The Grand Oracle didn't look particularly grand to Frey. He was a balding, worried-looking man with weak eyes hidden behind a thick pair of spectacles. Frey had imagined him dressed in expensive robes, but instead he wore a long jacket of deep blue velvet, parted down the middle by the thrust of his belly. The emblem of the Cipher was tattooed on his forehead, declaring his faith to everyone.

'Grand Oracle Pomfrey,' said Amalicia. 'Please allow me to introduce my fiance, Darian Frey.'

Frey winced inwardly. He'd heard that word many times over the last hour, but it still came as an unpleasant surprise, like being cudgelled by a mugger.

'Amalicia Thade!' exclaimed the Grand Oracle. 'My, how you've grown!' He shook Frey's hand. 'You're a fortunate man, sir. Congratulations to you both.' Then he turned to Amalicia and became grave. 'Terrible, about your father, my dear. He was a great friend to the Allsoul.'

'As I will be, Grand Oracle,' said Amalicia. ' You know, of course, that I was in training to be a Speaker before tragedy called me away to fulfil my duty to my family.'

Frey raised an eyebrow. As he recalled, she'd been dragged kicking and screaming to that hermitage.

'Quite so, quite so,' said Pomfrey. 'I do hope you can lend your influence against the Archduke and that poisonous wife of his. Do you know, they're attempting to force us to shut down our operations in the cities? Planning regulations or some such rubbish. As if they didn't know they'd be severely cutting our income by doing so.'

'Those of faith will simply travel to the countryside to seek the wisdom of the Allsoul,' Amalicia said, with the blithe confidence of someone who didn't give a toss either way.

'I hope you're right, child,' he said glumly. He looked at Frey. 'And you, young man. What is it that you do?'

'I'm in merchandise,' he said. 'Cargo.'

'Ah, you own a shipping line?'

'Indeed I do,' said Frey, accidentally putting on a posh accent as he did so. Amalicia kicked him in the ankle.

'And how are you finding the party?'

Frey leaned in, shielding his mouth with his hand in a parody of conspiracy. 'To tell you the truth, Grand Oracle, I feel like the Ace of Skulls in a hand of Quad Ladies.'

The Grand Oracle's eyes creased in amusement. 'I had that very hand only last week. Four Ladies and I turned over the Ace of Skulls. Lost everything. I was sick as a dog. You play Rake?'

'Oh, I'm just an eager amateur.'

'Perhaps you'd care for a hand or two in the parlour? If the lady wouldn't mind, of course?'

'Darling?' Frey inquired sweetly.

'Please, go ahead. You menfolk must have your games,' said Amalicia. She gave Frey a kiss on the cheek and whispered, 'Nicely done,' in his ear. Then she drifted off across the room in search of other conversation.

Frey walked into the parlour with the Grand Oracle. It was a small, cosy room with high windows looking out over the square. The air was rich with the scent of cigars. Several tables had been laid out, some for cards and some for other traditional parlour games like Peepers and Whizzbang. All of them were occupied, but Frey spied a game of Rake in the corner with a few seats free.

'I imagine having the Allsoul on your side must be a bit of an advantage in cards,' Frey commented, as they made their way