SFC Book III – Chapter Ten – Blonko
Kabe held out his hand. “Before you throw them bones, sweet tits, I want a hundred chits on the gods eyes.”
Gladice’s core ignited and she magically lifted the chits from his hand and placed them on the table for the double ones. It was an unlikely roll.
“Mr. Kabe, you will show the other players at this table respect,” Gladice said in a surprisingly crisp voice. “Otherwise, you won’t play.”
“Sorry, love,” Kabe growled. “Sorry to sweet tits as well.”
“Won’t change my roll,” Pinch said. “And I won’t kill him in here. I’ll kill him later, since I’m such the murderer.”
“Wasn’t talking about you.” Kabe’s smile had no warmth to it because his eyes remained ice cold. He kept his gaze on Gray.
The pale orc next to him had five hundred chit marker. “Same bet.”
Gladice swept her hands through the air and put it down on the same part of the table.
Gray put fifty chits on the seven line.
By that time, Pinch and the dice in her hands. “Maybe I’ll throw a one. But I won’t throw two. Maybe I’ll throw a six. You’ll only get one. But no, I’m thinking in mathematics, fours and threes. Ones and sixes. Fives and twos. Ready Gladice?”
“Roll as you like, Mrs. Thornpinch.”
The fae’s core was going crazy with just the possibility of the roll. “Oh, I like. I like it just fine.”
She tossed the dice and they went tumbling across the felt table. When they hit chits, instead of moving the wood, they sparked. Gray was reminded of the sound of bloodless blades clashing. Similar sparks flew.
When the dice stopped moving, they flashed, and the numbers appeared in the air above them, glowing a bright gold. It was a four and a three.
“Sevens win,” Gladice said. She swept out her hands and from in front of her, chits flew across the table into the hands of those that had won.
Though she was drunk, Pinch caught her winnings and set them down on the pile. Gray did the same. He’d doubled his money, and he felt the warmth of his greed resonance making him feel good.
“Blessed sevens be glad,” Gladice said. “Others be mad but not cross. Why not bet on the next toss?”
Another sweep of her hand plucked the losing bets—including Kabe’s and the pale orc’s off the table—and back into the tray in front of the bosomy she-orc.
“Bets now, bets, before the next roll.”
“My winnings go on the seven line,” Pinch said, and the chits she’d just won was back on the table.
“Same with me,” Gray said.
Kabe and the pale orc compared notes. They both held up their chits. “Same bet for me,” Kabe said. “I have a feeling.”
“Not me,” the pale orc growled. “Give me the twelve—six demons and six angels and fuck the gods. Losing I get shit. Winning I get a dirty thirty payout.”
That made some laugh, it made others wince, but Pinch only sneered. It was unlikely but yes, the more unlikely numbers paid out more.
With more magic, Gladice put their chits on the board as well as others, who all hurried to put money on the seven line.
One old woman, with her core gleaming with magic, nodded at Pinch. “You feeling it, Miss Fae?”
“Feeling a three. Feeling a four.”
Gladice nodded. “Ready, Miss Thornpinch?”
“I am, Miss Gladice.”
“Roll when ready.”
Pinch tossed the dice again, and again, it was a four and three. “Sevens all night long,” she said with a laugh.
Gladice again went through her litany. “Blessed sevens be glad. Others be mad but not cross. Why not bet on the next toss?” She paid out to those players in the seven line and took off all the rest of the chits.
As she was adjusting the table, there was an explosion of activity near the door. After some spellfire and yelling, a voice called out. “All clear! Whipping or worse?”
A rough-looking manamancer answered in a gruff voice. “Fuck that little thief. First time offense, whipping. Next time, it’ll be worse.”
A man covered in blue paint was then led out the door by three manamancers. To be whipped it seemed.
Gladice stiffened. “Let me remind you. No chits can be taken from the Fortunya by Avarica. We will know. Now, next bets?”
Again, Pinch added her winnings to the table. Gray did the same. If he won, he’d have tripled his original bet.
Gray noticed something odd. He got close to Pinch. “You get more mana before you roll than you do when you win. How can that be?”
Pinch’s eyes were red slits. “It’s not the having. It’s the wanting. You’d think the instincts would be satisfied but they never are, not for me. It’s always more, more, more. Don’t you see? It’s always the next roll that’s the sweetest.”
“I feel it after I win,” Gray said.
The fae girl smirked. “Because you’re a fucking amateur.”
Kabe called out to her. “You gonna keep rolling sevens, Pinch? Why not gods eyes? Why do you hate the gods?”
Pinch tore her eyes away from Gray. “I didn’t curse the gods. Your fucking friend did. Trade one Freek in for another?”
Kabe only laughed. “This is Blonko. Say hello, Blonko.”
“No,” the pale orc growled. “I don’t like traitors or murderers. Especially those who murder women.” He gestured to Gladice with his chit. “Give me the twelve.”
“No,” the she-orc said. “This talk of murdering is disturbing to the other players. If you sit there quietly, and politely, I might let you partake in my table’s good fortune. If you make a scene, I will have you removed.”
Blonko smiled. “Then I won’t bet, Miss Gladice. I’ll just laugh when she loses.”
“It won’t be this roll,” Pinch said. “I have a lot more sevens in me. I can feel it. Feeling better with your friend off the board.”
“Oh, you should,” Kabe said. “He’s not a fucking pain-in-the-ass duke. We’re going to get him on the Wrath City Raiders, and we’re going to win the Reckoning.”
The old woman at the table looked astonished. “Recruits from the First Field squads? I knew those uniforms looked familiar. Quite the Testing this year. Oh, yes, quite the Testing. Shame about the all the death. Who is the murderer here now? I got a little lost. I’m just a bit drunk.”
“We all should get drunk. Gray, get me a drink.”
“Charbrew, maybe,” he said. “But I think you’ve had enough.”
She went to protest, but he cut her off. “Is this where you prove how idiotically drunk you are by throwing a fit, Pamalee Thornpinch? I think that’s exactly what you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if I could ever be idiotically drunk. I’m not an idiot. Charbrew is fine. Make it creamy and sweet and you have a deal.”
Gladice caught his eye. “I’ll have one brought over.” She then took back control of the table. “Bets, now, bets all around, but not from Mr. Orc. Not this throw. Roll when ready, Miss Thornpinch.”
“Always ready.” Pinched tossed the dice and again rolled a seven.
This time, she took some of her money off the table but kept most of it on. Gray took back seventy-five shekels in chits—his original bet and some of the winnings. The rest he left on the table to grow.
Blonko laughed. “Saved me fucking money, Miss Gladice. Thanks for banning me.”
“Lost me money,” Kabe said, “but I got plenty. Big payout. Got deep pockets funding our squad. Money to fucking burn. Right, Blonko.”
“Money to burn,” he agreed. “Can I get back on the board, Miss Gladice? Or should I sit her stroking my massive cock and watching my friend lose?”
“Discussing both your member and your masturbatory habits is not polite, Mr. Blonko,” Gladice said. “Please, step away from my table. Cause a scene at your own peril.”
Blonko only laughed. “Since I got such a hard, pink imp, I’ll go watch the imp races. There’s a little elfy girl over there I had my eye on. An angel head. Best fucking kind of elfy girl if you ask me.”
Gray knew exactly who he was talking about. “Keep my bets,” he said to Pinch. “As long as you are rolling sevens, I ‘m not pulling out.”
Pinch eyed him. “Pulling out so you can dump it on her tummy?” She snorted. “You don’t have to answer that. You also don’t need to protect your little girl from the big bad orc. She’d rip that fake arm off him.” She paused. “That’s some money right there. Those kinds of enchantments are expensive.”
“I’m surprised that’s even a possibility.”
The fae girl smiled. “You’re so fucking new. Don’t be an idiot. It’s magic. In this magical world, all things are possible. Except finding happiness. Go. You look so pathetic when you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried.” He wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to just let the new asshole on Kabe’s squad mess with his bonded. He at least had to warn her. He got up. “I’ll be back.”
“And I’ll be here, drink charbrew and rolling sevens.”
Gladice called to Pinch to get her to roll. The other players were getting antsy.
Gray left her. Eventually, she’d miss the seven. It was all just probabilities after all but they’d both cashed out enough to make a little money. For her, though, it wasn’t about the money. She’s said it herself—it was all about the idea of more.
Blonko wasn’t alone at the imp track—other members of the Wrath City Raiders were with him, and they were all sitting around Rynn.
Seeing his bonded surrounded by the orcs threw a fury into Gray, and he sucked in a breath, as his core filled with fresh power.
Since she wasn’t betting, Rynn could leave whenever she wanted.
When she saw him, she got to her feet and slowly walked away from the leering orcs.
“New friends?” he asked.
“Old enemies.” She frowned. “Even with Freek confessing, they still blame you for killing Sindara. It’s so stupid.”
“It’s not about the lie. They we know that we know it’s a lie. It’s about power.”
Blonko approached them with the other orcs behind him. “Was it something we said, angel head?”
She slowly turned. “Are you really going to follow me? Do you really not know what I can do to you?”
Right on cue, magic filtered into her core.
The pale orc grinned showing every inch of his wet tusks. “I think I’d like whatever you wanted to do to me, little angel. Already, you’re giving my eyes a feast with that tight little ass of yours.”
Manamancers from around the casino all had their eyes on them—Gray, Rynn, and the six big orcs in their matching Wrath City Raider uniforms.
Gray stepped in front of his bonded. “This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to go outside. Then my little angel, with her tight little ass, is going to hurt you. After she’s done, then I’ll get a turn. You won’t die, no, but you’ll wish you were dead. How does that sound?”
Blonko grunted with laughter. “A street fight. You don’t know what you’re asking. I just wanted a bit of fun and flirting with the angel head here, but I like bloodsport just as much. It’s why I’m here after all. You made Freek kill himself, and so they brought me in. Fucking murderer.”
Gray’s eyes dropped to the orc’s core—it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It was spinning core of all the colors from red to yellow to blue until the blue melted into purple and back into red. It was like he had a prism inside of him. But while his core had so many colors, the mana around the metal of his beaten iron arm was a bright white. His anger resonance was giving him mana.
Gray grinned. “It’s a good trick. I’m the murderer but Freek killed himself. You like bloodsport, so let’s get to the blood part. We’ll go outside but I suggest you don’t follow us.”
“I’d like my coat,” Rynn said. “It’s cold.”
“Of course.”
They went to the coat check with all the manamancers watching. There, Gray collected his own heavy coat and his stick.
Blonko and the rest of the Raiders hung back, surprisingly patient.
Outside, though, they were given a surprise. Out in the frosty night, there was a carriage across the street with horses snorting clouds of mist. For the first time in a while, the sky was clear and the myriad of stars shined down, glittering like the ice crystals hanging in the air.
The carriage got out.
Rynn hissed in surprised. “The duke.”
An old, very old orc stepped down while two guards helped him. The duke had plenty of help. There were a dozen uniformed cambion orcs around him.
“Feels like a trap,” Rynn said softly.
“Feels like fun,” Gray answered. “I’ve not talked to royalty much since the princess. I wonder what the duke has for us.”
“Nothing good.” Rynn gripped his hand.
He couldn’t agree more, but he decided on curiosity rather than fear. Curiosity was simply more fun.