Casket of Souls

tooth!
    He reached into his purse and held it out.
    The man acted as if Teus had offered him a sack of gold. “Oh, that’s fine, isn’t it? That’s a beauty!” He smiled down into the boy’s eyes as he took it and flipped the knife like a coin. “For this you may have two of the dragon’s teeth. Take the ones you like best.”
    Teus was going to miss the knife, and since the man seemed so happy with it, he took the two biggest.
    He ran all the way home, clutching the teeth in one hand and the penny in the other. His mother was sitting in the sun in front of their tenement, braiding candlewick to sell in the marketplace.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked as he came to a halt, puffing. “Are them boys after you again?”
    “No, Ma, I’s just helping someone get to—to Gull Quay and I wanted to show you what he traded me!”
    “Traded you? For what?”
    “My broken knife.” Teus unclenched his fist and showed her. “Look! Dragon’s teeth, from baby ones.”
    His mother looked, then shook her head and went back to her braiding. “Teus, you looby. Them’s the eyeteeth of a cat.”

 
    S EREGIL was very pleased when an invitation from Selin arrived a few days later, asking them to meet him and Duke Reltheus at the Drake for some gambling that evening.
    The Street of Lights gambling houses were, like the brothels, lavish establishments, surpassing some nobles’ houses in the richness of their appointments. The Drake was a favorite of the middle echelons of Rhíminee nobility, and it was not unusual to see members of the court on their way to one of the private gaming rooms.
    They found Selin and Reltheus at a bakshi table, where Reltheus was being badly beaten by a wealthy dowager. When the last of his pieces had been captured, he paid his wager and bid the lady good night.
    Selin made the introductions. “Your Grace, allow me to present Lord Seregil of Rhíminee and Lord Alec of Ivywell. My lords, His Grace, Duke Reltheus of Tenmont.”
    “Well met, gentlemen.” Reltheus clasped hands with them warmly. “Young Selin has been singing your praises. You’re said to have Illior’s luck at the gaming tables, Lord Seregil. I was hoping a bit of it would rub off on me tonight. My purse is a good deal lighter than it was when I started out.”
    Seregil smiled. “Then you must play with us, Your Grace.”
    “Enough of titles here,” the man scoffed. “Names are good enough among gamblers. Do you play the stones?”
    Seregil lifted the bakshi pouch from his belt and rattled the pieces. “Now and then.”
    “A round then. Which of you will partner me?”
    “Youth against experience, I say. Alec, you partner with Selin.” Seregil took the dowager’s place across from Reltheus and poured his stones into the wooden trough carved into the elegant tabletop in front of him. Alec and the young lord took their places to either side and did the same. Seregil and Alec had both brought their best sets for this place. Seregil’s were lozenges of the finest blood-red carnelian carved on the backs with dragons; the symbols incised on the fronts were highlighted with gilt. Alec’s were round pieces of dark blue chalcedony, with Illior’s Eye on the back, and the symbols limned with silver. His were still shiny, while Seregil’s were well worn from years of use. So were Reltheus’s onyx pieces, inset with gold. Selin’s, cast in silver, had seen considerable play, too.
    Bakshi was everyone’s game in Skala; the rich played with fine pieces at tables like this one, while the poor squatted with their fistful of scratched pebbles over a gaming grid drawn in the dirt or chalked on a floor or the deck of a ship, vying to make the serpent, flower, snare, and spear patterns for wagers.
    “I’m surprised we have not met before,” said Reltheus as he and Seregil took the first round with two serpents and caught half a dozen of Alec’s pieces with a snare.
    “Alec and I move in more modest circles,” Seregil replied with a smile.
    Reltheus chuckled at that. “Every man’s an equal over the gaming table, as the saying goes.”
    “But you both know Archduchess Alaya, don’t you?” Selin put in, unwittingly shifting the conversation in the right direction.
    “A grand lady, indeed, but I doubt she’d remember me,” Seregil demurred. “She did used to pinch my cheek when I was at court, but it has been many years since I’ve spoken with her.”
    “You speak of years, Seregil, but look at you!” Reltheus