“What am I giving and taking?”
“Anything.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. I’ll go first so you’ll see how it works.”
He lays his hand on his cards.
“I take your heart and give you . . .”
He draws a card.
“A three of spades. Your turn.”
“That’s it? That doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Just try it.”
I keep waiting for him to laugh in my face and explain the real game, but he just sits there. I draw a card.
“I take your lace doily and give you . . .”
I throw down the card.
“A two of diamonds.”
“See? It’s easy. I take your eyes and . . .”
He draws a card.
“Give you an ace of clubs.”
I take a card.
“I take your bullshit and give you a nine of hearts.”
“Fun, isn’t it?”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.”
“I take your arrogance and give you a jack of hearts.”
“How do we know who’s won? How do we add up the points?”
“I’ll show you when we get through the deck. By the way, the winner gets to take one of the loser’s fingers. Your stunt last night is what reminded me of the game.”
“The guards won’t let us have knives.”
“Then the winner will just have to gnaw off his prize.”
We play a few more hands and the game doesn’t make any more sense than when we started. I can’t find a pattern in the taking or giving. Mason is tossing out numbers, body parts, places, and animals. There’s nothing I can do but follow his lead.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Did you always know what you were doing in the arena? Just keep going.”
I draw a card.
“I don’t believe you about Candy, by the way.”
“Believe what you want. You heard what she said.”
“Whatever you drugged her with, it scrambled her brain. That wasn’t truth coming out. It was paranoid hallucinations or something.”
“She’s a creature that needs shelter. Her doctor friend, Kinski, died. You were convenient. Don’t mistake refuge for love.”
“I take you trying to mind--fuck me and give you a six of clubs.”
“You should take this more seriously. Remember sweet Alice? Thinking about her let me beat you once before. All these little -people you think you care about now are ruining your concentration. Don’t make the same mistake you made eleven years ago.”
We run through a few more nonsense hands. I’m not going to win. I have to salvage something from this.
“Tell me about Blackburn.”
“The late great. What about him?”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Did I?”
He takes my soul and throws a five.
“Saint Nick sure did. And I know there’s not another Saint Nick because you have too big an ego for that.”
“The reason for killing Blackburn should be obvious. Without the Augur, the Sub Rosas will panic and split into factions, attacking each other. Of course, I’ve been busy. How do you know it wasn’t my friends who killed Blackburn?”
“Der Zorn G?tter? Forget it. I’ve seen their hoodoo and it would take more than that to get to the Augur.”
“If anyone needed to get to him.”
“An inside job? Ishii is an asshole, but he’s better at his job than that.”
“Play,” he says.
“I take your sense of satisfaction and give you a queen of spades.”
“Now you’re talking,” says Mason. “Of course, what if Ishii was Saint Nick? For a few minutes, I mean.”
“Possession? I don’t buy it. One of his -people would have noticed if he showed up for lunch with a chain saw and twenty feet of intestines.”
“I was just throwing out hypotheticals. No. Ishii isn’t a good candidate at all. No. You’d want someone who can come and go and get as close to Blackburn as they want.”
“Tuatha?”
Mason rests his hand on his cards for a minute before moving. His heart is beating faster.
“Poor dear. Having your soul ripped out the way Aelita did to her, well, you’re never quite right in the head again.”
“You made Tuatha kill her own husband?”
“I take your disbelief and give you a four of diamonds.”
He throws down the card.
“I didn’t say Tuatha was made to do anything. We were just speculating on the best subject for a possession. Besides, the key is in Hell.”
“But you know who has it. And you could get a message to them.”
“If you say so.”
“If Tuatha did it, where’s the body?”
“You’re not playing.”
“I take your lies and give you a ten of hearts.”
“The Blackburns have a lovely mansion,” he says. “You’d be surprised how well these modern garbage disposals deal with bones.”
I look at Mason, trying to read him. The light is shitty in here and I can’t get a good look at his eyes. But his heartbeat is up and he’s not sweating. It’s not fear that’s getting him excited.
I say, “What are the chances she’d ever remember doing something like that?”
He draws a breath. Moves his wrists in the cuffs where they’re rubbing the skin raw.
“Who knows? Besides, now that I think about it, it was probably me. I’ve killed so many they tend to blur together.”
“You’re really having fun, aren’t you?”
“The time of my life. You know, in Tartarus I was adrift. Truly going mad. All I wanted was some sense of control. And now I have it and it feels great.”
He draws a card.
“Now that I think about it, yes, I did kill Blackburn. I’m sure of it. Still, you might want to ask Tuatha about the clogged kitchen plumbing. Terrible timing too. While she’s planning her husband’s funeral and all.”
“All these lies. They’re obvious and boring.”
“Is our biblical flood boring?”
“You’re not claiming credit for the rain, are you?”
“No. That’s the Angra. Just their approach brings calamity. Can you imagine what it will be like when they arrive?”
“It’s like you’ve got Tourette’s. All the shit that comes out of your mouth.”
“I take your fear and give you the king of spades.”
“I take your never seeing daylight again and give you a deuce of clubs.”
“Tell the lovely Ms. Fortune to count her nightgowns. I bet she’ll find one missing. Covered in blood and down the drain with her hubby’s guts. Your turn.”
I don’t want to believe him, but he seems to be telling the truth. Maybe he meant what he said. Tartarus made him even crazier than when I put him in. He talks like a suicidal Hellion. Does he want me to kill him or does he want to kill himself? I’ll tell Wells to put more guards on him.
“You think you’re coming on like the Devil, but you sound more like a bawling brat.”
“That’s something else you took from me,” Mason says. “My chance to become Lucifer and move my legions against Heaven.”
“Heaven would have destroyed you. I saved your life.”
“Thanks oodles. I take your humanity and give you a four of spades.”
I keep trying to make sense of it all, the game and Mason. What does he really want? My brain vapor locks. I can’t think of what to bet.
“You’re not doing very well today,” he says.
“You said there weren’t any rules in this infinite crap.”
“Like life, there are always rules. They are just not necessarily logical. But you’re even less logical than usual.”
“I think you just made up this game as payback for last night.”
“Does that mean you forfeit?”
The cell door opens and the Shonin shuffles in. If a skeleton can look more skeletal, that’s how he looks. Blackened skin flakes off his face. His hands tremble and he has trouble walking in a straight line. He stops and leans against the wall. I go over to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“You need to stop this foolishness. Your personal feelings for the girl and your past with Mason are making you unfit for work. You should go. Let me play him.”