Over a dozen lifeless faces peered at her as she stepped inside, but her gaze immediately fell on Levi. All the color drained from his face as he met her eyes. He was hunched in his chair as if it hurt him to straighten up, and an ugly red mark glared at the side of his neck. Enne’s heart skipped in alarm—he’d been hurt again.
Enne closed the door behind her, and the music from downstairs disappeared, as if nothing existed outside this room. The ticking, too, was gone—maybe she hadn’t really heard it at all.
“The other player, at last,” one man said. Enne recognized him immediately: Chancellor Malcolm Semper, the Father of the Revolution—and her mother’s killer. Her heart clenched, all the anger and grief and adrenaline seizing her at once. “Please take a seat, my dear.”
She tried to reach for the revolver. This was it—she’d made it to the Game in time to stop it. But her hand was frozen at her side—not from the omerta, but some other power in the room. The same sinister force that had led her upstairs. She swallowed down a scream of panic.
“I believe you have Mr. Torren’s letter, don’t you?” Semper asked.
Enne froze. She didn’t have any choices left. She was weaponless, powerless, and she had walked directly into their hands. She’d made a fatal error for the second time that night, and now it was too late.
After a few moments of horror, she regained her composure enough to hand him Sedric’s envelope. Semper tore it open and scanned the contents, then cleared his throat. “It seems... What is your name?”
“Séance,” she said, the name Lola had given her. The name her mother had once used, long ago.
Semper blinked, as if startled for a moment. Maybe he, too, glimpsed the ghost of Lourdes at the edges of his vision.
He returned to Sedric’s letter. “Mr. Torren has recommended that Séance be the one to play.”
“What?” Levi hissed. Enne froze. What did that mean? Weren’t they both supposed to play?
“Well, with your background in cards, Mr. Glaisyer, you don’t need to prove your prowess. Perhaps this newcomer should be given a chance to impress.”
Levi shook his head. He looked utterly defeated.
“Take a seat,” Semper urged her, and Enne carefully claimed the only empty one at table. Every few moments, she tried again to reach into her pocket for the revolver, but to no avail. If she ran—if she could run—that would mean leaving Levi here, and she’d already come this far. No matter how panicked she felt, she couldn’t abandon him in his final moments. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself afterward.
“Don’t bother eyeing the door, dear,” Semper said. Every monster in this city always found a pet name for her. “The Game began the moment you stepped into the House. The rules are binding. There is no escaping. No cheating.”
That explained why Enne couldn’t reach for her gun. There was a magic to the Game, like there was in oaths. A magic she couldn’t explain.
“During the Game, the player typically bets their own life,” Semper explained, “but since there are two guests, it will be Mr. Glaisyer’s life on the line, and Séance the player.”
Enne’s heart sank. It should’ve been the other way around. She didn’t know anything about cards.
“Last time we did this—” a younger woman started.
“That was a mistake,” Semper snapped. “Besides, these two don’t even know each other. Isn’t that right?”
They were referencing the Game of Gabrielle Dondelair, when it had been Enne’s life on the line. They had no idea that same child sat in front of them now, prepared to play the Game a second time.
“I’ve never heard of him,” she answered. Levi shot her an annoyed look, as if he could honestly be worrying about his ego at a time like this.
“Players don’t just walk through our door,” the woman from earlier snapped. “If you don’t know him, then why are you here?”
The words came easily. “To win,” Séance answered.
Semper smiled. “People do not play this Game to win, my dear. They play this game not to lose.”
DAY TEN
“Some say the City of Sin is a game, so before you arrive—ask yourself, dear reader, how much are you prepared to lose?”
—The City of Sin, a Guidebook: Where To Go and Where Not To
ENNE
“The rules are not that complicated,” Semper started. The room was so dark that he was merely a shadow across the table. “Eleven players and twenty-two kinds of Shadow Cards. In the beginning, every player will start off with two.” He dealt out the silver cards and slid them to the players at the table. “Best not to look until you understand the rules,” he said, just as Enne was reaching for hers. She drew her hand back, heart pounding. The nine other players stared at her with such detachment that she wondered if they were sleeping with their eyes open. If they were even interested in this Game, where Levi’s life was the prize.
Semper continued his explanation as a man behind him placed a massive stack of silver-backed cards on the table. There were ten decks of the Shadow Cards within the large one, which meant there were ten of each kind of card. Each round, the players wishing to compete for that round’s card would place one orb in the center. The objective was to collect all twenty-two Shadow Cards.
The men standing around the table gave each of the players a silk pouch. When Enne opened the bag, she ran her fingers over tiny orbs made of black glass, identical to the one she kept within her nightstand at St. Morse.
“These are unique orbs,” Semper said. “They’re filled with your life force, not volts.”
“How is that possible?” she asked, as though she’d never seen one before.
“There are many mysteries in the House of Shadows. Why don’t you hand the orbs to Levi?”
How it works doesn’t matter, Enne thought. All that matters is us making it out of here alive.
But only one person had ever won the Game, and she’d died that night, anyway.
Enne slid Levi the bag. His face rigid, he placed an orb on the inside of his elbow and filled it with volt-like lightning that was gold instead of white, in the same way one might fill an orb if they’d carried volts in their skin. One. Ten. Thirty. Fifty orbs, all filled. He handed her back the bag, looking as gray as the members of the Phoenix Club.
She literally held his life in her hands.
“The orbs empty after they’re bet, so if you bet all of the orbs, Levi will die,” Semper told her. “The Game will last three hours. If you have failed to collect the twenty-two Shadow Cards by that time, the orbs will deactivate, and he will also die.” Enne tried to catch Levi’s eye, but his gaze was fixed on the stack of Shadow Cards.
Semper set a metal timer the size of a mousetrap on the table, its clockwork and wires visible, as if inside out. Each round, he would deal the players as many regular cards as there were bets. Eight cards for eight players betting, for example. From there, those players competed for the card up for grabs that round. Everyone played one card per trick until they ran out, and the highest card of the trick collected the others. Whoever ended with the smallest number of spades won the round and the Shadow Card. Ties were decided by dice.
Semper shuffled the normal deck. It thump-thumped on the table.
“There’s one other catch,” he said. Of course there was. “The Shadow Cards, once the Game begins, develop divination properties. When they touch your skin, you’ll see a flash of your life according to the card. What has already happened, or perhaps what could have happened, had you made different choices.”
Levi finally looked at her. She held his gaze, her heart lodged in her throat, and silently told him that she could handle this, that it would be okay, that he had more than three hours left. But the fear on his face remained. She wouldn’t have believed herself, either.
“What’s the point of the divination?” she asked Semper.
“To remind the players of the stakes.”
As if they needed reminding that they were about to die. It didn’t matter that Levi’s life was the one at play—the Phoenix Club would certainly never let her leave the House alive when this was over.
“You may pick up your cards,” Semper instructed. He slapped his hand on the timer, which jolted to life.