Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,25
true, or even if I wanted it to be. But so what? I just wanted to keep Gimble talking, not spill my guts to him.
“I imagine,” he said, “that any of us could find you if he really wanted to. Wotan certainly could. He’s many things—none of them pleasant—but a hunter most of all.”
Gimble was trying to scare me. I knew because it was working. I took a breath. “Timon said there are ways of protecting me.” Although he hadn’t. Except for me getting paid, we hadn’t talked about what would happen after the game much at all.
“Timon won’t care anything about you after his eyes grow back. He feels no loyalty or obligation to anyone. That’s why his vassals hate him.”
“But you,” I said, “you’re different.”
“I am,” he said. “And I swear that if you help me win, I’ll make you the steward of Timon’s holdings. You’ll run this place—this city—whenever I’m not here. If you throw in with me but I don’t win, I’ll still make you one of my deputies. I’ll protect you, provide for you, and train you to use your gifts.”
“That sounds pretty good. What do you want me to do, throw off all my chips to you?”
“No. Or rather, not until you and I are heads up. I want you to help me eliminate the others.”
“How?” I asked. Even though I had a good idea.
He took a cautious look around. It made his head bob more than it had been before. “You’ve picked up on the fact that all our opponents practice the shadow sciences in one form or another.”
“If by ‘shadow sciences’ you mean magic, then sure. It would be hard to miss.”
“It’s how they cheat. And how they expect others to cheat. So if we do it differently—”
“We can fly under their radar? Isn’t that what you were trying to do with the gadget inside your arm? It didn’t seem like it worked all that well.”
“No,” he said, “it didn’t. But there are other ways.”
“Like signaling,” I said. In other words, telling your partner what cards you hold. Which helps the cheaters in several different ways.
“Do I take it that you already know how?”
I shrugged. “There are lots of ways. One of the easiest is putting chips on the backs of your cards. Where you put them shows what you’ve got. Or, you can brush the spot with your finger. Your partner just has to make sure he doesn’t blink and miss it.”
“Excellent! If I don’t even have to teach you, so much the better. We just need to compare notes and make sure we’re both using precisely the same system.”
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
He hesitated. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said I know it when I see it.” Maybe this kind of shit was cutting-edge in Fantasyland, but back on my turf, every serious poker player had to learn to spot it. “I didn’t say I’d ever used it, and I’m not going to start by teaming up with you.”
“Even though I’ve warned you what Timon is.”
“Even though I halfway believe you. I made a deal with him, and, well, that’s that. But I appreciate you letting me know you’re into signaling. I’ll watch for it, and if I spot it, I’ll say so. And if Wotan gets pissed off again, don’t expect me to hold him back.”
Gimble stared at me long enough that I started to wonder if he was going to take a swing at me, and “traditions of hospitality” be damned. Then he made a long, soft sound that I didn’t recognize at first. Eventually I realized it was how a thing that didn’t need to breathe had taught himself to sigh.
“You really won’t survive without a stronger patron than Timon,” he said. “He’s on his way down, and you’re too human. It shows in everything you say and every choice you make.”
“You never know. It might make me harder to read.”
“For me, perhaps. But you have opponents who started out as human, or nearly so. They’ll know exactly how to use it.”
“Well, I’m still going to stick with Timon.”
“I see that.” He stood up, so I did, too. “So I suppose there’s nothing left to say except thank you for coming between Wotan and me.”
He held out his hand, and I gave him mine. I felt a sting in the meaty part of my palm.
I said, “Ow!” Gimble let go. I looked at my hand and saw a little bead of blood.