“Really?” That would be a good thing for a sailor to have.

The man smiled. “You like them, eh? Maybe we can make a trade.”

“Like what?” Teus didn’t have anything in the world worth a dragon’s tooth.

The man looked down at the teeth and shrugged. “I like these. You give me something you like for one of them, and it’s a fair trade.”

“I have a toy horse back home.”

“No time to go back. Do you have something on you now?”

Teus’s heart sank. He did. He’d found a little penknife in the street in front of one of the countinghouses in Merchant Street last year. It had only half a blade, but what was left still cut and the sides of it were made of bone with designs carved in. It was a special treasure, really, though nothing compared with a dragon’s 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.”

CHAPTER 11. Sin and Sociability

SEREGIL 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 Rhiminee 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 Rhiminee 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 exclaimed, slapping down a counter and capturing two of Alec’s pieces. “That enviable Aurenfaie youth. If I didn’t know better, Lord Alec, I’d say you had a touch of that blood

yourself. You have something of that look about you. But you’re from Mycena, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. But there are rumors of mixed blood,” Alec explained, as he always did when the subject came up. “My family was in trade and traveled in the south.”

“Ah. Well, it suits you. Don’t you think so, Seregil?” The man gave him a wink.

“I do, indeed.” Seregil slid one of his coursers into place to block Selin’s serpent.

“Then it is true, what they say of you two?”

Seregil glanced up with a slightly crooked grin. “More than likely, whatever it is. Do you know Alaya well?”

“Oh, yes, I attend her salons. You should join us. I’m sure she’d be glad of your company, with her taste for handsome young fellows. You’ll be expected to provide some sort of entertainment your first time, however, and you will be judged accordingly.”

Seregil smiled to himself. He knew just the “entertainment” to bring.

They played for several hours, with the money washing back and forth between the two pairs, then went to the card tables to try their luck at Hawk and Hunter. Seregil won mercilessly there, and the other players finally gave up and departed.

“That was thirsty work,” said Selin. “Where shall we go to drink at this hour?”

“I know a very welcoming establishment,” said Seregil.

They all piled into the duke’s carriage and Seregil directed the driver to Eirual’s house just down the street, where a pink lantern glowed invitingly over the door.

“Your Grace, my lords, come in!” the doorman, Manius, said, ushering them in at once. “I will inform the mistress that you are here.”

The lavish reception hall was filled with courtesans and their patrons for the night. Beautiful women of every description lounged around the room in silk gowns and jewels fit for any lady, entertaining their partner or partners for the evening. In a pink-lantern house, all the patrons were men.

The other three colors, white, blue, and green, signaled other combinations. Alec had once unwittingly stumbled in under a green lantern and found himself surrounded by male courtesans intent on entertaining him, much to Seregil’s amusement.

It was an elegant room, and rather exotic, reflecting the owner’s taste. Tapestries covered the walls, rather than murals, giving the room a warmer atmosphere in spite of the size, and displaying lush but tasteful scenes of carnal pleasures. The incense scenting the room was musky and sensual. At the far end of the room, a blond girl was plucking a lute, accompanying Myrhichia as she sang a love song.