“Oh, is this…?”

“It is!”

Suzette’s eyes sparkled as she pulled the weighty book from its home on the shelf. It was bound in hard leather, not the floppy paperbacks Saila was familiar with, faded with age and use. ‘The Running Death’ was emblazoned upon the cover in that tombstone font, the beautiful face of the tailor girl protagonist striking a sharp, powerful figure that caused the whole thing to shine in the light of the bookstore.

It was a thing of beauty.

She tried not to equate the tailor holding the book with the hero on the cover, and failed spectacularly.

“That’s amazing!” Saila cheered, dress swirling as she vibrated with excitement. “How’d they get something like that??”

“Oh, well…” Suzette started, then held the book to her face such that she was peering over it. That sparkle in her eye turned devious, and for a moment Saila was sure a book was going to collide with her face again.

“It’s a secret,” she whispered, “but apparently, according to Papa, there’s a printing press in town. They make hard-cover printings like this.”

Saila, with some hesitance, ran a finger across the cover. It was embossed.

“Whoa… no way this costs a dime. But wait,” she pointed at the tableau of adventure that was the cover art, the tailor and her Death back-to-back, surrounded by bandits in shadow. “This… I don’t think I’ve seen this cover before. It’s also… a lot more pages. Like a lot.”

Suzy laughter was like a twinkling bell.

“Aaand, the binding isn’t the only special thing about this book. This is a compilation. Not just that first Running Death story, but all six of them.”

“… wait. Six? But aren’t there only-?!”

Then came the thrusting of a book into her face, though Saila saw it coming this time, barely dodging the exuberant Suzette.

“Correct! This one has a bonus story! One where La Fille qui Court encounters a massive, fire-breathing monster, straight out of a knight-story! I can’t quite afford it yet, but soon! I hope soon enough that we can read it together, perhaps?”

A thousand different thoughts exploded through Saila’s brain like a crackling bonfire, so it wasn’t her fault that her next words were; “I can do that.”

Suzette’s twirling dance stopped, and her bright smile froze.

“What?”

###

Rider boots slammed into the creaky floorboards like the hammer of a workman getting stiffed on his expected pay. Which in a sense, he was.

“You’re cheating! I can feel it in my damn BONES!”

“Now now, Mister King, I’m sure this, er, Wildcard-”

“Cheating! Rotten dirty cheating scoundrel hiding behind a mask.”

“Eehehehe. We’ve all got masks on, young’un.”

The so-called King of Diamonds’ face- the bottom half that was visible, anyway- was as red as the diamonds on his mask. His accusations struck Noble across the shoulders like errant gunfire.

“You’ve gotta be. That’s the only answer for why you’re doin’ so good!”

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“S- surely not,” Joker said. “This is a gentleman’s game, he couldn’t- wouldn’t cheat. No two ways about it.”

Noble had to give the man that, there were no two ways about it.

He was at least cheating three different ways. Four if you counted the card-counting, which every shark-hall in Exova did, which was why he and Knave had figured out three other methods just to be sure.

“Can’t imagine what you’re talking about, King. Now I believe it’s your deal?”

The hard truth of it was that even with his little sleight of hand tricks, card counting, and just outright palming cards during his turn as dealer, Noble was fighting an uphill battle. He was winning it, mind you- the money on his side of the table told that truth plainly. But still…

King had an expert read of the game, and had won more hands than he’d lost in the grand scheme of things. Noble had half as many wins to his names, even discounting the thrown hands to keep his cover up. If he hadn’t been leaning on old tricks, and King hadn’t bet so aggressively, it was likely the cash and cards would be on the other side of the table.

Cash courtesy of ol’ Joker of course, Noble had barely had to use his own funds, at the very least. He was the sort of mark Knave would lick his lips about, then warn not to skin this particular fat-cat too hard less someone actually take notice of your winning streak. Plus, he was wet behind the ears when it came to poker, so much so even the old man had won a few crisp bills from him.

The King of Diamonds glowered behind his card-suit mask, searching for something, anything to stick to Noble… then sat back down and began the next deal. For all his shouting, he couldn’t very well prove the cheating, and the Joker was right. This was a gentleman’s game.

As he dismissively flicked Noble’s final card at him, King spat “so what’s your bet, Wildcard?”

Noble picked his cards with his right hand, counting his winnings with his left.

Nearly a straight- and the Jack he’d palmed would make it a full one. He had it dance with the two of hearts and left them in his just loose enough sleeves.

He pushed his stack of coin and bills forward.

“One hundred even, it seems. So, I think I’ll make that wager nice and proper now; I’m looking for a man with a smile in his eyes. Where is he?”

The tugging sickness of rampant want was stronger now. The echo of his erstwhile brother’s spirit lingered on those he passed by, and flared when the memory was stoked- but this was a hotter flame, a sharper attention.

Knave was enjoying this little game. Watching, closely.

The thought made Noble’s nerves flicker.

A hairline fracture, filled and healing, slipped an inch.

The pain? That was ignorable.

The Two of Hearts slipping down onto the table as his arm shook was not.

One after the other; the sound of a boot smashing into the table, then a gun leaving its holster.

###

“I can do that. I’m- I mean, uh,” Saila coughed into her arm, and could have sworn a puff of fire came out. “I mean, back where I’m from, I dance! With fire!”

Saila did her best to play it off, striking a pose that would be dynamic in a flimsy tank-top and shorts but simply looked like she was frozen mid-fall in her pink dress.

“L- Long ago, when I was but a girl in my mother’s stomach, a salamander leapt from the fireplace an- and crawled across her! She was shaken, but he told her ‘Worry not, your su- dah- your child will be graced by flame! She is blessed by the salamander!’.”

The eyes of the small handful of people in the book store riddled her with bullets.

Or would have, if Suzy’s eyes weren’t filled with a far more metaphorical fire.

“Incroyable! Simple incredible! I knew you liked rider-novels, but I didn’t know your LIVED one!!”

Saila felt an uncommon tickle of embarrassment dance up her spine… then throttle her.

“I- I wouldn’t, quite say it like that,” she said, scratching at the back of her neck. “But, uh, if you wanna hear about things…”

“I’d LOVE to! Maybe- oh, maybe at dinner, you could do some dancing!?”

So earnest and excited, sparkling with delight.

She likes the same books I do… AND isn’t put off by my dancing? This… this IS oncrow-yab, like she says, isn’t it!!

Saila laughed, a laugh from the heart, full of love. And want.

Fooound you.

The oil-slick whisper of an impression of words touched the back of Saila’s neck.

She cursed herself a thousand times, slick laughter framing a portrait of flame-spit swears.

I was supposed to keep an eye out I knew it wasn’t just the wind or something what the hell am I doing of course Knave is here where is he where is he shit shit shitshitshitshit!

“… Saila, you okay?”

“U- uh, yeah. Just. You know. A little-” Saila did her best to channel the embarrassment Suzy’s excitement pushed away. “A little, embarrassed, is all. Do you think we could…?”

She popped up in place, quickly replacing the book she’d been holding and taking Saila’s hand.

“Ah, yes, of course. Let’s go, let’s g-Oof!”

Mid drag to the exit, the two bumped face first into someone half a step into the door himself.

A man in a dirty white cloak, a Felisian military uniform underneath.

Saila’s eyes traced up the man. He wore a Felisian military uniform, half-hidden by a white cloak made grey by travel and sand. His face was sunken, slightly, concealed by a messy shock of blonde hair and a pair of thick sunglasses.

Sunglasses that had jostled on impact.

She saw it, then.

His right eye, a sparkling emerald green.

Ringed by hungry fangs.

######