The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,77
to the table.
The Grand Oracle smiled. 'If only I were allowed to abuse my talent so. Are you of our faith?'
'My parents brought me up to worship only cold, hard currency,' Frey lied. 'I've always felt there had to be more to life than that, but . . .' He shrugged. 'Maybe I never found the right teacher.'
'Hmm,' said the Oracle. 'Or perhaps you are not aware of what the Awakeners can do for you. Through us, the Allsoul's favour may be begged to know the future, and even to change it. A great asset in business.'
'I'd heard it was possible, but I never understood how.'
They took seats at the table, returning the nods of the other players as they settled themselves.
'The patterns of the air, the turning of water in a bucket, the arrangement of a shuffled deck - all these are part of the Allsoul's pattern. Nothing is random. There is nothing it does not touch. But through the Cryptonomicon, we have the wisdom to interpret these signs as the voice of the Allsoul. And those with especial skill can arrange signs to speak to the Allsoul itself, and be understood.'
'Amazing,' said Frey, as he emptied out a purse of money that he'd borrowed from Amalicia. 'The arrangement of a shuffled deck is part of the Allsoul's language?'
'Indeed it is,' Pomfrey smiled.
Frey whisded. 'I think I'm about to lose a horrible amount of money, Grand Oracle.'
Pomfrey chuckled as the cards were dealt. 'The Allsoul's will be done.'
Four hours later, they were still at it. By then only Frey and the Oracle were left at the table. Frey had been carefully eliminating all the other participants and then losing his winnings to Pomfrey. The standard of play was shocking. Manipulating the game was no trouble at all for someone like Frey, who'd spent a sizable fraction of his life in Rake dens.
Early on. Frey had snagged a manservant ant and told him to bring a bottle of rum. He'd been aggressively filling everyone's glass ever since, especially the Grand Oracle's. Pomfrey was long past the point of refusing as he topped him up again.
'I have a Run!' he declared, showing his hand triumphantly.
Frey looked. A Run was five cards of any suit in numerical sequence, without a break. Pomfrey had 3, 4, 6, 7 and 8.
'So you do,' Frey smiled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. He pushed the pile of money, gathered from the other players, towards the Grand Oracle. 'You really do have the Allsoul on your side.'
'Ha!'
Frey dealt the cards again, then caught sight of Crake and surreptitiously motioned him over. Crake ignored him. He was still talking with Samandra Bree. In fact, he hadn't left her side all night. Frey tried again, more vigorously. Crake pretended not to see him, until Frey's flailing became so pronounced that he was in danger of toppling off his chair.
'What are you doing?' asked the Grand Oracle, blearily.
'I have a friend I'd like you to meet,' said Frey, as a sullen Crake joined them at the table. 'Damen Morcutt, this is Grand Oracle Pomfrey.'
Pomfrey was too interested in his cards to manage more than a quick hello. Crake looked over his shoulder for Samandra, but she'd already disappeared. He was looking distinctly unsteady.
'Had a few, have we?' Frey whispered, with a suppressed threat in his voice.
'I was enjoying the company of a beautiful woman,' Crake slurred.
'I told you to stay sharp.'
'I am sharp.'
'You'd better be.' He looked around to be sure nobody was nearby, but the parlour was largely empty now. Pomfrey was studying his cards with an expression of fierce concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.
'Grand Oracle, my friend here has something to show you.'
Crake went white. 'Not here!' he whispered. 'What if it goes wrong?'
'He's drunk. It'll be fine,' Frey assured him under his breath. 'Grand Oracle!'
Pomfrey looked up, startled to find himself at a card table. 'What? Er, oh, yes. Sorry. Pardon me.'
'I said, my friend has something to show you,' Frey repeated. 'A quite remarkable gold tooth he has.'
Crake glared at his captain, then turned his attention to Pomfrey and grinned his best grin.
'Oh,' said Pomfrey, not impressed in the slightest.
'Why don't you have a closer look?' Frey urged.
'Spit and blood, Mr Frey, you are acting awfully strange all of a—' Pomfrey trailed off as he caught sight of his reflection in Crake's smile. 'My,' he said. 'That is a very nice tooth.'