Chapter 6 #3
“You’ve chosen the best seat in the house.” The Banker leaned against the table, eyeing her with fascination.
Lo laughed. “We’ll see if that’s true.”
Mayté fidgeted and grumbled something under her breath.
She always got like that around Lo’s suitors.
Sometimes Lo wondered if her best friend envied her, but she never dared ask.
She didn’t want to know the answer. From the corner of her eyes, she caught Carlos staring, but Dominic took the other seat next to Lo before he could.
“Lorena.” He leaned in closer. “May I ask, why are you wearing um … that.” He nodded at her slip dress, eyes darting as if looking too long would turn him to stone.
“Oh. Well …” Lo tugged at her cloak. With everything happening she hadn’t thought of a convincing excuse.
“Why does it matter to you? You shouldn’t be staring.” Carlos bumped into Dominic’s chair as he walked by and sat next to him.
Lo bit back a smile. A thrill of warmth unfurled in her chest.
“Listen closely, dear contestants, because we will only explain the rules once,” Misterioso bellowed.
The Banker snapped his fingers, and boards full of colorful squares appeared. Lotería boards. Lo gasped and grabbed Mayté’s arm. “The game is Lotería.”
“Our game!” Mayté sounded delighted. How many lazy afternoons had they spent as children playing with Mayté’s abuela? It was as if the game had been made just for them.
Everyone at the table stared in awe as the boards orbited around the Banker.
“How did he do that?” Dominic whispered.
No one cast a spell or whispered an incantation; it just … happened. The other croupiers murmured to each other and pointed, not at the Banker, but at the contestants. As if they were the interesting part of this entire magic show.
The Banker shuffled the boards like a giant deck of cards. His gaze flicked to Lo, as if checking her reaction. Sure, she was entranced, but she made sure to play up the amazement and delight on her face. Satisfied, he looked away. “I’ll deal this round.”
“You all are familiar with Lotería, I’m sure.
” A board appeared in Misterioso’s hand.
Lo squinted. Some of the pictures looked familiar, like La Sirena, the mermaid with flowing black hair and a ruby red tail, and El Gallo, the lively rooster with fluffed-out feathers.
But there were other images she didn’t recognize, like the one of a Xolo dog, and another with a shield made of steel.
“As you know, you place beans on your board.” He threw up his hands and thousands of tiny, hard beans rained down from the ceiling, pelting the players and bouncing endlessly off the table.
No beans fell on the Banker, who looked quite amused.
“You will receive a bonus for filling a whole line.” He ran his finger horizontally across the board, then vertically and diagonally.
“Or if you fill up the big picture frame.” He tapped the four outer corners.
“Or the small picture frame,” he said, pointing to the four center squares.
“However, the true winner of Fortune’s Kiss is the one who fills their entire board first.”
“Easy,” Mayté mumbled to herself, but Lo wasn’t so sure.
Games with the objective of filling the entire board always held the most tension. By the end, several people would need only one more square to win. And now there were more than a handful of bronze coins and other tiny trinkets on the line.
Dominic’s eyebrows scrunched. “But Lotería is purely luck. There’s no skill in it at all.”
“Are you certain of that?” Mayté scoffed, but for once Lo had to agree with her would-be suitor. Picking the correct board was purely at the mercy of San Fortuno.
“Ah, very good point, my boy.” Misterioso materialized behind Dominic, giving his back a hearty pat.
“Of course, our version of the game is much more exciting. I could explain, but I think it’ll become clearer once we begin.
Our first round will be unique. In most instances, we choose the cards, or as some say, the cards will choose one of you, but this is your opportunity to be the one in control. Do I have any volunteers?”
“Me!” Mayté’s hand shot up.
“Oh, no, no, no!” Senora Montoya stood. “If anyone should go first, it should be me.” She waved around her cigarette, dumping ashes onto the player next to her. “That is the way Dios would have it.”
Mayté’s nostrils flared. “We aren’t still living in the time of the crown, and anyhow, all of us were chosen. We’re all on equal standing here. So I don’t—”
Lo grabbed her arm. “Just let her go first,” she whispered. “Then we’ll see how this game is played.”
A few croupiers at the nearest table snickered to each other. Lo glared at them.
Mayté’s face reddened. “Fine.” She slapped some beans away from the table.
“Very well,” the Banker said. The cards floated in front of him, back sides facing Senora Montoya and the rest of the players. “Choose a card, choose your fate,” he said, deep voice smooth and alluring.
“I will.” Senora Montoya grabbed one of the cards and flipped it over.
“Mmm.” With a smirk, she appraised her board.
“El Gorrito.” She grabbed a bean between her thumb and index finger and placed it on her board.
The bean glowed and melted away. With a flash, a giant El Gorrito card appeared in front of her, depicting a silky pink bonnet with white lace ruffles.
Sofía and Sera had worn bonnets like that when they were babies.
A tiny pang poked Lo’s heart at the thought of her sisters.
“What is your wager?” the Banker asked.
“What is she supposed to bet?” Carlos said. “We don’t have anything with us.”
Lo patted her cloak and the realization hit her that Mamá’s comb was gone along with her satchel. Mayté dug her hands through her skirt pockets, her painting must have been gone too.
“Ah, never fear.” Misterioso waggled his finger. “For this round, you may wager whatever your heart desires. The house always finds a way to claim what it’s owed.”
“Mm.” Senora Montoya tapped her nails against the table in contemplation. “What shall I wager?”
“Maríana, you’d best make it something good,” Don Zelaya said. “We want to start on a strong note.”
Xiomara Fernandez leaned in and spoke softly to him. Her dark brown eyes looked almost fiery.
Senora Montoya’s lips curled, and she turned away as if she had witnessed something vile and disgusting.
“And you, Martín, best not shame our people with whom you associate.” La Orden saw even the middle class as far beneath them.
Still, Lo thought it was a smart strategy for Xiomara to find favor with Don Zelaya.
“Enough banter, I wager a sizable amount of my family’s fortune.
I have so much of it, it’s impossible to keep track of how big it is.
” Senora Montoya sneered. “Now, let’s get this started. ”
“Ah, if you insist, senora.” Misterioso shrugged, then snapped his fingers.
“Quickly, bebé,” an eerie voice rumbled. “Like a good child, obey my words. Put on your bonnet and follow my lead.” The same bonnet from the card appeared and flew to Senora Montoya.
Don Zelaya, Xiomara, and a couple of others at the table chuckled.
“What?” Senora Montoya swatted the bonnet away as if it were a fly. Her pale face flushed red. “What kind of nonsense is this?”
“Hurry, hurry,” the card groaned as if in pain. “Put me on.”
A pit formed in Lo’s stomach. Mayté frowned, forehead creased. Dominic pressed a knuckle against his lips. Carlos folded his arms and squinted.
“Hurry …,” the card urged again.
“No,” Senora Montoya snapped. “I’m not going to put on this silly thing. I thought this would be a real game. Is this entire thing just one big farce?”
The card flashed red.
Senora Montoya shrieked as she stumbled back. Bare feet poked out from under her gown. Her gaudy hat vanished, then her golden jewelry. Her gown transformed into tattered rags.
Don Zelaya and the others’ amused whispers ceased.
“You lose,” the Banker said, voice matter-of-fact. “You’ve lost your fortune and place as a noble. Your children are now destitute.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Senora Montoya pounded her palms on the table, and beans went flying.
“Senora, you wagered a sizable amount, but you weren’t specific. The price you paid was sizable, no?” Misterioso explained.
“But I didn’t know!” Her voice shook. “Give it back!” Seeing Senora Montoya reduced to such a state should have felt vindicating, but instead it was disturbing. How easily could that happen to Lo or Mayté in another round? They needed to play carefully.
“Ah, I cannot do that, I’m afraid, but you have the chance to win it back,” Misterioso said.
“You must keep wagering until you pass El Gorrito’s challenge.
I have no fear that you won’t be able to.
You could say this challenge is so simple that even a baby could do it.
Remember, in this round, you can bet anything your heart desires. Anything.”
“Fine.” Senora Montoya snatched the bonnet and squished it onto her head. “Then I bet everything I have left. My home. My beauty. All of it.” She smirked at the other contestants. “Just watch me win it back and more.”
“That’s the spirit.” Misterioso grinned.
“Pick up a bean,” the card groaned.
Senora Montoya plucked a bean between her fingers. She stumbled again as her high-heeled shoes reappeared on her feet along with a golden necklace at her throat. She smirked with triumph.
“What! This is nothing like Lotería,” Mayté whispered.
“I’m confused,” Dominic said as the rest of the table mumbled to themselves.
“Is this how all the challenges will be?”
“Everything we lose will just vanish into thin air? But you can get it back if you gamble more?”
“Is this going to put her at a large advantage?”
Lo frowned. Now that awful woman was going to win back everything with ease.
It didn’t feel fair. “Please …,” Lo whispered in prayer, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Don’t let her win. Don’t let her win. Don’t let her win.
” She prayed to Dios, and San Fortuno. She had stopped praying years ago when her pleadings went unanswered, but right now it was the only thing she could do.
“Pick up a handful of beans and count them,” the card ordered.
Senora Montoya tittered with glee as she swiped a bunch of beans and used her finger to count them. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Twelve beans.”
“That’s too easy,” someone at the table whispered.
Lo’s heart sank.
But the card glowed red, and the room shook.
The Banker looked up, startled. His icy blue eyes darted to Lo.
His stare was so intense, she had to look away.
Misterioso straightened, looking surprised as well.
He grinned widely again, his eyes aglow with excitement.
The dimples in his cheeks deepened, turning his expression into something almost dangerous.
He nodded at the Banker, who quickly cleared his throat.
“Unfortunately, senora, you are wrong,” he said, voice devoid of emotion.
Lo jolted.
“What?” Senora Montoya practically screamed as everyone else at the table glanced at each other in confusion.
“She … counted them right. I saw,” Mayté whispered.
“There are twelve beans,” Senora Montoya insisted.
Her pale face reddened when the Banker shook his head.
“Don’t be foolish, the rest of you saw me count them.
” She held out her palm and counted the beans slowly and forcefully.
“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” she spat.
“Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten …” She slowed, and her eyes widened.
“Eleven … t-twelve …” But there was one more bean in her hand. Thirteen.
Everyone else at the table looked just as shocked.
“That can’t be right,” Mayté murmured.
“She had twelve, didn’t she?” Xiomara asked Don Zelaya, who scratched his head in confusion.
But now she had thirteen. The only logical explanation was the impossible. Magic. “Mayté.” Lo tugged her best friend’s rebozo. “Do you think …”
Without warning, the card flew at Senora Montoya’s head.
Something warm squirted onto Lo and everyone else.
Senora Montoya’s body fell with a loud thud.
A river of crimson blood flowed, staining her gown and furs.
Blood. Blood on Lo, on her face and hair.
All over her dress. Spatters of red on Mayté’s white shirt.
Bloody freckles on her nose and cheeks. Smears on Dominic.
Droplets staining Carlos’s dress shirt. The sickening scent of iron filled the air.
“?Dios mío! Her head! Her head’s gone!”
The contestants flew from their seats. A shrill scream erupted. It took a second for Lo to realize it was her own. The Banker casually blotted his face with a handkerchief. His cold gaze flicked to Lo, before he turned away.
Mayté stared at Senora Montoya’s body. No, her corpse. Mayté’s body trembled and her eyes filled with tears.
If Lo hadn’t stopped her, it would’ve been Mayté on the floor, head cleanly severed.
Her heart raced faster than it ever had before.
Her stomach fluttered and she wanted to vomit.
She stumbled back into Carlos, who steadied her.
Lo’s heart pounded so hard. Carlos spoke fast and frantically, but she couldn’t make out his words.
“And there we have it,” Misterioso said, holding both hands out like a performer. “Maríana Montoya wagered everything, which of course includes her life.”
This is not a game. This is el infierno, Lo thought. It was the only explanation. She was being punished for killing her father.
Fortune’s Kiss was supposed to fix everything, but now it would be their damnation.