I walked into Shina’s place, removing the wide-brimmed, brown hat I’d bought at Manasi’s to keep the sun off my face and walking over to the bar. Rajdra walked over to me and inclined his head, wearing his usual friendly smile.

“You’re in early, Naasi,” the man observed. “Your shift doesn’t start for a few hours yet.”

“I know,” I nodded. “I just need a drink and a table.”

He shrugged, glancing at the half empty saloon. It was only an hour after noon, and most of the residents of Murkburg were busy working, not hanging out in the saloon. If it hadn’t been for a train stopping in town for the day to load and unload – and its passengers coming into the town to wait rather than sitting in the hot cars – the place would have been practically dead this time of day.

“What’ll it be?”

“Yaslee,” I replied, sliding a pair of taans across the bar to him. He swept them up, walked away, and returned a moment later with a clean glass and a dusty bottle of golden liquid. He poured three fingers of the drink into the glass – a finger more than normal – and handed it to me with a smile. I took it gratefully and moved to the farthest corner of the room, away from as many people as possible, then sat down at relatively clean table. I pulled out a steel fountain pen and a stack of blank, ivory-colored cards, then took out my book and opened it to the pages on runes. That was just for show, of course; I had a much better resource than the book to rely on.

“Okay, what should we work on first?” I asked her silently.

“I suggest Analyze, John. It’s the most complex of the runes you could make, but it’s also the one you’ve seen the most, so I’m the most familiar with it.”

“Analyze it is, then. Where do we start?”

“Remember how when a rune is used, it grows into a little ball around the card before it activates? Well, from what I can tell, that’s because a rune is just a two-dimensional holograph of a three-dimensional image.”

“Whoa, whoa,” I laughed silently. “A holograph? Like those little security marks on credit cards?”

“From what I see in your memories, yes, more or less.” She suddenly appeared in the seat opposite me, looking more or less the same as she had the last time I saw her. Apparently, her intended change was going to be a very slow one indeed. She gestured, and a slowly spinning globe of blue light appeared in the center of the table, floating about eye level above it.

“This is the spell form for Analyze,” she explained. “The three-dimensional one, that is – which is the only way a spell form can truly exist.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “I’ve seen flat spells before, Sara. Viora’s rituals back on Soluminos – and these runes, for example.”

“Viora’s rituals weren’t spells, John. They were part of a greater spell, a way to help her focus and concentrate the energy for powerful spells that would normally be beyond her. These runes are the same thing. They aren’t really spells, either; they’re a sort of shorthand, a way of compressing the spell into a smaller space to be used later.”

She held out a hand, and a ball of light appeared in it, floating above the table. A cube without sides suddenly appeared below it, spinning and twisting in every direction. She tapped the finger of her other hand on the table beneath the cube, and I glanced down to see lines of shadow swirling on the tabletop.

“These shadows are a two-dimensional projection of this three-dimensional cube,” she said. “They tell you exactly what orientation the cube has at any given moment.” The cube froze, and the shadows hung, unmoving below. “If you knew what you were doing, you could take these shadows and use them to build an exact replica of his cube at this instant, as accurately as your measurements and skill allow. Basically, the shadow holds all the information you need to make this cube, even though it’s only two-dimensional.”

The cube vanished, and a blank playing card appeared, floating horizontally just above the table. The globe of the Analyze spell drifted over to her and seemed to rest atop the card, the spell casting a web of shadows on the flat surface below just as the cube had.

“Runes work more or less the same way,” she told me. “They’re like a two-dimensional shadow of the three-dimensional spell form – only, they’re a lot more complex. Instead of just one shadow, they’re actually layers of shadows, one atop the other, each capturing the spell form from a certain angle.”

Shadowy webs seemed to peel off the spell and drift down to the card, laying down on the card and staining it with hair-thin, inky lines one after the other. The lines piled atop each other, twisting and entwining but never seeming to spill into one another. Eventually, the last layer of shadows vanished, leaving behind a rune that looked like a few thick, curling lines, not the hundreds of thin ones I knew comprised it.

“Impressive,” I admitted. “And these people worked all that out themselves?”

“As I guessed, they’re naturally gifted with script,” she smiled. “And their tech level is fairly advanced, remember? That means their math has advanced with it.”

I nodded, reminding myself that the people on the worlds I visited weren’t really any less intelligent than those on Earth had been, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Earth’s scientists figuring out something like this. It was probably just a matter of having enough math and technology to make it work, and apparently, Puraschim had both.

“Exactly,” she smiled. “The point is, though, that if I take this encoding of the spell and run magic through it…” The card glowed, and I watched as the energy seemed to flow in slow motion, filling up one layer at a time and projecting that layer above it. When every layer was filled, the original spell form hung in the air once more. “The rune projects the spell form, then channels power into it to activate it.”

“But when the sheriff casts his runes, they form around the card, not above it,” I pointed out.

She nodded. “That’s because it’s more efficient, I think. Projecting the spell form around the card means each layer has to travel a shorter distance, and the shorter the distance, the less power it uses.” Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she spoke. “That’s kind of the downside of this form of spellcasting, John. It’s highly effective at compressing a large spell into a two-dimensional space, but it trades that for efficiency. Instead of just casting the spell, you first have to use some energy to form the spell around the rune, then you have to put more energy in to actually activate it. The more complicated the rune, the larger the projection will be, and the more power will be lost – unless you’re willing to create thousands or tens of thousands of layers, that is.”

“So, more layers cut down on the cost of the spell?”

“Essentially. The more layers you use, the less of the spell form you have to cover with each layer. Layers are two-dimensional, so increasing their size increases their area by the square of the increase. That means that doubling the size of a layer increases the power draw by a factor of four; it’s more efficient to use two or three smaller, overlapping layers to encompass the same area.”

“That all makes sense,” I nodded. “How do we start, then?”

“Go ahead and take a blank card and put it on the table,” she instructed. I did so, and a tracing of lines appeared across the card, a glowing, blue point flashing in the middle.

“What you’ll need to do is gather magic to yourself, then let it trickle into the pen,” she instructed. “You need to draw this with one continual line, without stops or starts. I’ve already worked out how; just start at the blue dot and follow it. Try to keep moving at a constant speed, or you’ll blot the paper or skip and have to start all over again. Oh, and press as lightly as you can while still leaving a line; the thinner the line, the more efficient the rune will be.”

It all sounded easy enough, but actually doing it proved to be much, much harder. My first attempt, I blotted the card the first time I had to shift directions; the next, I tried to go too fast, and the pen skipped, ruining the work. It took four tries – and four cards – before I produced an acceptable first layer.

“One down, five to go,” Sara said cheerfully. I sighed as a new set of lines appeared. Rune crafting, it seemed, was a lot more complicated – and a lot less fun – than simply casting spells the way I had in Soluminos. Thirty minutes later, I finally produced an acceptable rune, and I analyzed it with satisfaction.

Rune Created: Analyze

Rank: Lesser

Material: Hard Paper

Durability: 16

New Rune Learned: Lesser Analyze

Arcania Required: 4.2

Determines a target’s rank, highest affinity, and relative danger level.

“Durability?” I asked Sara as I stared at the card.

“Every time you use the card, the magic will reduce its integrity,” she explained. “Eventually, the rune will fail, and the power will consume the card – the way it did for Boden the day you arrived.”

“Got it. So, keep an eye on the card’s durability, basically.”

“Exactly. If it drops to zero, boom.” She smiled at me. “So, which rune should we work on next?”

I spent the next two hours laboring over the cards. Each rune seemed a little easier than the last as I picked up the knack of how to keep the pen moving smoothly – or more appropriately, as Sara trained my muscles and nerves to do that far more quickly than I could have myself. Notifications blinked in my vision, and I read them as I sat, flexing and massaging my slightly cramping hand and putting down the last of my second drink.

New Rune Learned: Simple Snakespine

Arcania Required: 4.0

Improves the target’s agility and ability to dodge

New Rune Learned: Simple Regenerate

Arcania Required: 4.0

While active, slowly restores lost bond energy

New Rune Learned: Lesser Flame Charm

Arcania Required: 4.2

Creates a small burst of short-lived fire

New Rune Learned: Simple Air Web

Arcania Required: 4.0

Wraps a target in weak strands of air that reduces their dodge.

New Rune Learned: Simple Sharpclaw

Arcania Required: 4.0

Reduces an enemy’s defense against your pet’s attacks.

Skill: Improved Runecrafting has gained a level

New Rank: Adept 1

Benefit – You can attempt to craft a rune a rank higher than normal at half the standard chance of success.

“Sara, how many skill points do I have outstanding right now?”

“Eighteen,” she said promptly.

“It feels like these skills are going to be the most important ones I use in this world. Doesn’t it make sense to spend those points to boost them?”

“I can’t answer that, John. It does seem like your combat skills might not be as useful, but who knows what else you might get? Something to do with training and handling animals, perhaps – and you never know when a skill like Tracking or Endurance might be useful. I’m certain that you’ll be using those new skills, but I’m not certain that spending ten skill points to bring Runecrafting to the Savant ranks will be an effective use of those points.”

I sighed as I realized she was correct. The smartest thing was to save those skill points until I truly needed them. Boosting Tracking to the Adept ranks when I needed to track someone badly, for example, would be a smart use of the points; pumping Runecrafting to Savant and finding out it didn’t help much would be a huge waste.

“Figured out how hard drawing runes is?” a voice asked, pulling me out of my reverie. I glanced up and saw Paisley standing over me, sneering down contemptuously.

“It’s not easy,” I admitted, giving her a little smile. I took the six runes I’d completed and slipped them into my shirt pocket, crumpling all my failed ones – of which there were a lot more – into a ball.

“Not for a naasi like you,” she snorted. “I could draw shitty things like those out in my sleep without even trying.”

I bit back the comment about her shitting in her sleep that almost slipped out and merely shrugged. “I’m still learning. One day, I’m sure I’ll be making better ones.”

“Doubtful,” she replied. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, then gave me a sly grin. “If you’re in the mood to play with cards, though, why don’t you play with some real ones? We’ve got a spot open at our table, and I hear that Shina’s paying you pretty decently.”

I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head. “I’m good, thanks. My shift here starts in a couple hours, and I want to go grab some food before it does.”

She snorted. “It takes you two hours to eat? If you’re afraid to lose, just say so, naasi. It’s fine admitting you’re a coward.”

I ignored her needling; I didn’t honestly care what she thought of me, or what anyone did. I preferred that people underestimate me, in fact. It made them easier to kill if I had to. I did, however, consider the idea of gambling against the woman. Not because of what she’d said, but because I had a feeling I could fleece her pretty easily, and as I understood it, she got paid a hell of a lot to have her pet keep the farms and herds in the area free of monsters. She had money, and I needed money if I wanted to leave Murkburg in a reasonable amount of time.

“Plus, I can track the card played,” Sara offered. “I can tell you the odds of anyone having a better hand than you, and the odds that any given hand will win.”

“That would be useful,” I admitted. “I don’t know if I’ll need it, though. Winning at cards isn’t always about having the best hand; it’s about making people think you do.”

“You know what? I think I will join you,” I nodded, slipping the book, pen, and remaining blank cards into the burlap sack I’d carried them in. I paused. “I’ve never played before, though. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all,” she said, her eyes gleaming greedily. “We’ll be happy to teach you. Come, sit down with us.”

I followed her back to the table, where she indicated an empty chair. I took it and looked around; besides Paisley, three people already sat at the table, two men and another woman. One of the men wore a black coat and white shirt that both looked too fancy for the saloon, along with a pair of small, wire-rimmed glasses, the first I’d seen in this world. The woman wore a slim, pale green dress that matched her hair and was almost translucent, hinting at the lines of her breasts beneath it, while the other man wore a leather vest over a dark blue shirt. I nodded at each of them, examining them closely as I did.

Fancy Coat barely acknowledged me as I sat down, frowning at a gleaming brass pocket watch in his hand. The woman gave me a warm smile that I immediately mistrusted, while the other man refused to meet my gaze. He, I guessed, was a local, and he looked none too eager to have me join them. Fancy Coat had a moderate stack of coins before him, while Local Boy had the least and Green Dress had the most. She was the one to watch out for, I guessed; she looked harmless and mousy, which probably made her an excellent gambler. As Fancy Coat and Local Boy stole what they thought were surreptitious glances at her almost-exposed chest, I revised my opinion. The woman was absolutely dangerous.

I’d lied to Paisley, of course. I’d gambled at cards plenty in my life, from poker nights in the barracks to high-stakes baccarat in casinos. I hadn’t played this specific game, it was true, but I’d watched it being played for hours a night for over a week, and I had the rules down. The game wasn’t too different from poker, really. The deck wasn’t the same - it had five suits of ten cards each, with nothing akin to the face cards – and each hand held six cards instead of five.

That changed the odds of various hands quite a bit, of course. Matching hands like pairs, three of a kind, and four of a kind were somewhat easier to get: there were five of each rank in the deck instead of four, and with six cards in hand, there were more chances to get a matching rank of card. At the same time, straights and flushes were harder to get, and a straight flush was much harder. There were also a few hands that couldn’t be made in regular poker, like five of a kind, a double triple – two three of a kinds – or a quad and double, four cards of one rank and two of another. There was no full house; according to Sara, the odds of getting a three of a kind and a pair were the same as just getting a three of a kind.

I watched closely as Paisley dealt four cards to each player, then put two cards facedown on the table. I lifted my four, holding them with deliberate awkwardness, and stiffly spread them out to look at them. As I’d guessed before, the sigil in the top right and bottom left corners of each card marked their rank with a simple number from one to ten. My cards weren’t anything to get excited about – I had a pair of fours, one orange and one red, with a blue nine and five – but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t really looking to win the first several hands. I just wanted to get a feel for how everyone else played.

We all anted up a single taan to start, and the bidding went around the table. Local Boy tossed in an extra taan, which everyone called. The first of the two cards in the center was turned over – a blue seven that didn’t help me at all – and we each received a fifth card. Mine was a yellow three that still did nothing for my hand, and I purposefully let my disappointment show on my face. We went through another round of betting, in which Local Boy didn’t bet but Green Dress did. The final card in the middle flipped – a green four – and we all got a final card. Mine was a red eight, so I had three fours. Not a terrible hand, but not a good one, either, and after a final round of betting, Green Dress won the pot with three sevens.

The next thirty minutes passed in much the same way. I played poorly, betting big on hands that weren’t that great and being conservative on good hands. I let my emotions show on my face, and my coins steadily dwindled away as I carefully let them go. Paisley couldn’t conceal the grin on her face as I got down to my last handful of taans as Fancy Coat dealt out the cards. I concealed a smirk; I’d played poorly for long enough, and except for Green Dress, I had a sense of everyone’s tells. I was time to play for real.

I lifted my cards and fanned them awkwardly, almost fumbling one. I had nothing – a pair of sixes with a nine and three along for the ride – but I let elation flash across my face as I tossed one of my last few taans into the mix. Local Boy folded right away, but everyone else stayed in; I’d proved that I had no clue what a good hand was.

The first center card flipped, revealing an orange nine, and I got a blue ten. I let a little flash of disappointment cross my face. Inwardly, I was happy; I had two pair now, or a “double double” as they called it in this world, sixes and nines. I checked, and when Green Dress raised, I made as if to fold, then changed my mind and called her.

The final card turned over, showing an orange six, and I scooped up my card and looked at it with an audible sigh. I hastily schooled my expression and bit my lip; when the bidding came to me, I raised it everything I had. The others called, of course, and I laid down my cards, revealing three sixes, a nine, and the second nine I’d picked up as the last card. I had a double triple, two three of a kinds and one of the better hands.

“Did I win?” I asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Fancy Coat said shortly, and I happily scooped the pile of taans back toward me.

“Lucky ass,” Paisley muttered, but Green Dress eyed me appraisingly. I had a feeling she’d just made me as a practiced gambler, but it didn’t matter so long as Fancy Coat and Paisley didn’t.

The next hour passed swiftly. I alternated smart play with the occasional deliberate blunder to keep the others guessing. Each blunder cost me big, but in between, I won small amounts that slowly added up to a profit. By the end of the hour, triple my original money sat before me, and Paisley stared at me, grinding her teeth, frustrated with how despite my seeming incompetence I still had so much of her money. I glanced at the saloon’s clock; this was going to be my last hand, and since after this, I doubted Paisley would play with me again, I decided to play correctly.

My cards fell before me, and I gathered them up, then flipped through the corners, catching each one and memorizing it. Green Dress watched me and broke into a grin; she’d figured out my game long before, and she obviously knew I was about to finish the table off. Fancy Coat saw nothing, and Local Boy and Paisley were too intent on their cards to notice me.

My cards weren’t phenomenal – a pair of fives, one orange and one red, with a nine and ten to boost them – but I tossed a taan into the center. It didn’t matter what my cards were; a single glimpse around the table showed me that no one else had anything good, either. Paisley’s eye kept twitching, and Fancy Coat kept touching his watch, something he did when his hand was bad. Local Boy sat there chewing on nothing, his tell, and Green Dress stared directly at me; it had taken a while, but I’d figured that she looked most focused with a bad hand.

The first card flipped, and a green five appeared on the table, while a probably useless eight showed up in my hand. I checked when the time for my bet came this time; that five worked well for Green Dress, it seemed, and it made Paisley happy, as well. Green Dress also checked, but Paisley raised two taans, and I raised her another. Local Boy dropped out at that point, as did Green Dress, but Fancy Coat and Paisley stayed in.

The last card turned over to show an orange one that obviously helped no one, but Paisley’s face turned predatory for an instant as she picked up her last card. She quickly schooled her expression and tapped her cards on the table, looking at me and seeing nothing but a blank expression. Her own face looked confused and startled before she mastered it.

“You’ve been pretty lucky tonight, naasi,” she said slowly. “But everyone’s luck runs out sometime. I’m thinking this is yours.” She slid a pair of pitals into the pot, watching me closely.

“You might be right,” I shrugged, not looking at my cards. I slid a pital and five taans into the middle of the table, hesitated, then slid a small stack of coins out behind it. Paisley’s eyes widened, and I looked at her calmly. “How much are you willing to pay to find out? Or are you too afraid – too cowardly, to use your word, to take that chance?”

She looked down at the coin pile, then at her own dwindling hoard. I’d chosen carefully; calling me wouldn’t bankrupt her, but it would leave her with a single taan to her name. I could see the debate raging in her mind. She had a good hand, but she suddenly wasn’t sure it was good enough. She didn’t want to lose, but she didn’t want to look cowardly in front of the people in the saloon – and we’d attracted a bit of a crowd of watcher by this point. At last, she made the decision I knew she would and slid every coin but a single small, gray one into the center.

“Call,” she spat, slapping down her cards with a triumphant grin. “I’ve got a run, three to eight.”

“Damn,” I shook my head, laying down my four fives, the last one being the card I’d picked up at the end. “That beats a quad, doesn’t it?” She barked a relieved laugh and reached for the pot, but I held up a hand. “But not a quad and double.” I placed a pair of tens on the table, and she stared at them in disbelief.

“Holy shit,” Local Boy muttered, wiping his forehead.

“You – you cheated!” she snapped, half-rising from her seat. She looked at the others. “He cheated!”

“I didn’t see any cheating, miss,” Fancy Coat sighed, shaking his head and slipping his watch into his pocket.

I reached into the table and began to slide my winnings over, but before I could, Paisley grabbed my wrist. I reacted instantly, twisting my hand free, grabbing her thumb, and rotating it. She cried out as the pressure pushed her to her left – I knew from a little bit of experience that a handler’s resistance to damage didn’t shield them from pain, and a thumb twist hurt like hell. I let her go before she fell from her chair and slid the rest of my winnings toward me, slipping the nine I’d replaced in my hand with my stashed ten back into the cards before handing them to Green Dress.

“I think I’m done for the night,” I said easily, nodding to the others as I dumped the coins into my burlap sack. I’d have head to Menasi’s the next day to get them changed into larger coins, and maybe to buy a leather pack instead of the burlap piece of crap I carried, but that would wait. “I’d like to get something to eat before my shift here starts tonight.”

“Well played, young man,” Fancy Coat nodded almost absently.

“Yes, most – enlightening,” Green Dress smiled coyly. “One might think that you’d played before, stranger.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Paisley demanded, rising to her feet. “You think you can take my money, then lay hands on me, and just walk away?”

“I believe you put your hands on me first,” I observed calmly. “And I’m going to put this money in the sheriff’s office, then go grab some food.”

“You’re going to sit down and play, damn you!” she snapped. “You’re not walking out of here with my money!”

“Actually, I am.” I nodded to Rajdra, whose face was no longer smiling and who looked nervous.

“You step out that door, and you’ll be meeting my wolfion!” she raged.

“Careful, Paisley,” a calm, laconic voice spoke, silencing the entire bar. The woman spun to see the sheriff leaning against the wall just inside the door, watching the proceedings closely. “You know I don’t tolerate handlers attacking one another in the streets.”

“H-handlers?” she sputtered. She looked back at me, her face incredulous. “You mean, he – you’re a handler?”

I nodded and walked past her, toward the door, with the crowd parting to let me pass. I could feel Paisley’s eyes on my back, boring into me, and I could practically smell the anger boiling out of her. I hadn’t made a friend that night, but then, I was never going to be Paisley’s friend, so that wasn’t much of a loss…

“I challenge you!”

A hush filled the room as Paisley’s words rang out. I stopped and looked back at her curiously.

“What?”

“I challenge you, naasi! To a duel! Tonight, out in the streets, for my money!”

“Hell, no, Paisley,” the sheriff shook his head. “That’s not enough time to clear everyone out, and you know you can’t duel for money.”

“Fine!” she snapped. “Tomorrow, then – and when I win, you have to admit that you’re a cheater!”

I glanced at the sheriff, who shrugged. “Up to you, boy. You’re a naasi, and everyone knows it, so there’s no shame in turning down a duel with an experienced handler.” He lowered his voice until only I could hear it. “Of course, if you make it five days, we can get you a second pet – maybe a third, as well – and you can practice a bit. With your scores and a little training, I think you might take her.”

I looked back at the woman. “What’s in it for me?” I asked curiously. “What do I get if I win?”

“Win?” she scoffed, looking around as if expecting everyone to laugh. When no one did, she turned back to face me. “Fine. What do you want? You’ve got my money – and if you think I’d ever fuck a mongrel like you, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snorted.

“She’s probably got some runes we could copy, John,” Sara pointed out.

“How about, I get to copy your five best runes?” I said aloud.

“Done,” she said quickly. “Then tomorrow…”

“A week,” I countered, cutting her off.

“A week? Two days!”

“Let’s just call it five days and be done with it,” the sheriff drawled laconically. “Five days from now, Two hours before sundown, out in front of the saloon. I’ll officiate.”

“I can’t wait,” she smiled, stalking past me and out into the lowering evening.

The sheriff watched her go, then looked at me, shaking his head. “Neither can I, boy. It’ll be interesting to see what you can do.”