《Die, Dragon, Die!》9. I'm Not Happy That You're Happy
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Jet flinched. He began to back out of the tavern, but stopped himself. Forcibly, he took a step forward. As little as you like the man, you still can’t leave him to die under the fists of the locals. He took a deep breath and straightened his shirt. “Gentlemen and ladies. What seems to be the problem?”
Realizing no one was listening to him anymore, the singer stopped, his lute wrangling to a halt. Beside him, the dancer hopped off the barrel and hunkered behind it. The singer joined her a second later, protecting the lute with his body.
Tom scowled at him. “Another fancy out-of-towner. I take it you’re his friend, Jet?”
“Friend… is a strong word,” Jet said, resting a hand on his sword.
“I don’t care if you’re friends, enemies, long-lost siblings or star-crossed lovers. You’re with him, no?”
Jet inclined his head, somewhat unwillingly.
“This man cheated at cards. We’re only taking back what he stole. Isn’t that right, boys?” Tom said.
The other four nodded. Muttering sounded around the bar, and one pair of eyes after another settled on Jet, murder in their gazes.
“Stole, nothing! I played an upright game of poker and won, and now they won’t pay up!” Gideon replied indignantly, raising to his full height. The top of his head barely scraped Tom’s collarbone.
Even as he stood at his full height, he slowly wriggled toward Jet, working his way through the people around him. The other poker players moved to cut him off, but slippery as an eel, he slid by them, snaking through holes that seemed too tight for a man to pass. Mabel grabbed at him, but he ducked beneath her grasp and danced away. Sam lunged for his waist, only to stumble as Gideon edged a chair out into his way. Step by step, Gideon drew closer to Jet.
“Nothing that can’t be resolved with a bit of discussion, I hope,” Jet said calmly. Slowly, but very deliberately, he rested his hand on his sword. Hidden away in the scabbard, blue light began to glow from the enchantment on his blade. The faintest hint of blue light leaked from the scabbard, enough to light the palm of Jet’s hand, but no more.
“There’s a time for talking, and there’s a time for fighting. A couple of outsiders busting in and cheating, in front of our faces?” Tom shook his head.
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“Prove I cheated. Prove it! You’ve got nothing,” Gideon shouted.
Tom clenched his jaw. He narrowed his eyes at Gideon. “You shouldn’t have had those cards, boy.”
“Huh? But… what cards should I have had? No, don’t tell me… you gave me those cards on purpose? But then… that would mean you were cheating,” Gideon said slowly, as if he was only just figuring it out.
“Gideon. Shut up,” Jet said.
“That’s a grave accusation you’ve just made of me, boy,” Tom grumbled.
“What? It wasn’t when you made it of me?” Gideon replied, scandalized. “Honestly, the double standards in small towns like these…”
“Gideon. Shut up!” Jet repeated. He flicked his eyes toward Gideon and edged toward the man, but stopped when a thick-set butcher in bloodstained trousers moved to cut off his route to the door. The man halted, but he, too remained stuck, unable to draw any closer to Gideon.
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “I’m warning you, boy. You might be a hotshot mage out there in the big, wide world, but here? Mind your words, or you might end up as slop for my pigs.”
Jet’s eyes flickered between Gideon and the door. “Give these nice people back their money, Gideon.”
“I earned it, fair and square!” Gideon insisted.
“Now,” Jet said. He gave Gideon a meaningful glance.
“Fine. Fine! Take your money!” Gideon shouted. He reached into his pockets and threw the copper and silver coins out into the crowd wildly. Coins rained down over the taverngoers. Instantly, the tavern dissolved into chaos. Half the tavern dropped to their hands and knees to scoop up the coins, and the other half fought those who were lucky enough to scoop up the coins. In the mess, Gideon fled for Jet. Clenching his teeth, Jet reached for Gideon, backing toward the door.
“The gold, boy!” Tom growled, warning in his voice.
Gideon clenched his teeth, then reached into a pocket and threw out another handful of coppers. This time, two small gold coins glinted amidst the copper.
The few who hadn’t moved at the promise of coppers and silvers jumped out of their chairs and made mad dashes for the gold. In that moment, Jet grabbed Gideon and yanked him out the back door. The door slammed shut. The second it closed, Jet threw out his hand. Snowflakes danced around Jet’s hand, and ice froze around the bottom of the door, forming a doorstopper. Without letting go, he stomped toward the stables.
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Behind them, a heavy weight thumped into the door. The ice cracked, but held. Clenching his hilt, Jet threw his other hand back, adding another glob of ice to the door.
“What? Where are we going?” Gideon asked.
“Anywhere but here. After that stunt you just pulled, you think they’re going to let us peacefully spend the night?” Jet said.
“I gave them their money back,” Gideon complained.
Jet glanced at Gideon, then snagged his collar. Gideon struggled, but Jet ignored it and reached into the front of his robes. He pulled out a large gold coin. Meaningfully, he held it up.
“That was mine to begin with,” Gideon insisted.
Jet opened his hand, showing the rest of the small gold coins he’d taken from the hidden pocket.
“Most of those are mine, too. I mean—those are mine, too.”
“Right. How many are yours?” Jet asked dryly.
“Four. No wait, five, five of them—”
He slapped four small coins and the large one back on Gideon’s chest. Gideon caught them and tucked them away.
“Oh, come on. It’s not my fault Tom got all riled up. Look, you can’t cheat and expect no one else to cheat, that’s just ridiculous. It wasn’t a fair game to begin with.”
“Then you shouldn’t have played. Hell, what were you doing gambling to begin with, prisoner? I thought I told you to stay out of trouble,” Jet replied angrily.
“Then that makes it your fault for not watching me, warden,” Gideon replied glibly.
Jet let out a frustrated huff at that one. “That’s the last time I let you leave my line of sight for so much as a second.”
Gideon sighed. “It’s not that bad. You’re being dramatic.”
They reached the stables. Jet hauled the saddles back onto the horses and quickly fixed their bridles into place. From the tavern, a roar sounded out. Jet’s hands sped up, flashing over the tackle. “Sounds like they figured out there’s a few gold missing.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “If they couldn’t handle losing it, they shouldn’t have gambled it. It’s not my problem.”
“I think they’re about to make it your problem,” Jet muttered darkly. At last, the horses were ready to go. He grabbed Bluebell’s reins and drew the horses out of the stable.
The stable boy stood in the entrance. He looked at Jet, then trembled and held his arms out to block the exit.
Jet looked at the stable boy. The stable boy hesitated, then stepped out of the way. Jet nodded. “Thanks.”
The stable boy looked at his feet silently.
Ahead, the noise from the tavern burst louder as the taverngoers remembered the front door. Jet grit his teeth and ran for the road, leading the horses after him. “Gideon! Get on the horse!”
“Stop! I can’t get on the horse if you’re running!” Gideon replied, panting heavily. He pumped his arms, barely able to keep up with the horse.
“Dammit, you mages are so…” Jet paused, allowing Gideon to catch up. His heart raced even as he stood there, adrenaline pounding through his veins.
Gideon scrambled up onto the horse.
Eric raced around the corner, furious. “You aren’t getting away, you cheat.”
“I’m no cheat, you are!” Gideon replied.
Jet stepped forward, holding out the gold. “Here. These are all the coins you’re owed. Take them.”
Eric scowled. He clenched his fists. “I know that isn’t all you have. That large coin is rightfully ours. I need it for the ewes. Give it to me!”
“It isn’t yours. Let us leave in peace,” Jet said, putting a hand on his sword again.
“Jet!” Gideon called.
Jet glanced over his shoulder, keeping half an eye on Eric. Gideon sat atop the horse, ready to go. He turned back around. “We’re leaving—”
Eric stood inside his reach, too close. Jet jumped back. Dammit. It was just a small town, so I let my guard down—!
Cold. Pain. Jet grabbed his gut, then pulled his hand away. He stared, wide-eyed. Red slicked his palm. Blood.
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