Chapter 4
DELILAH
The sixth time Delilah entered the glittering cave, she felt no awe, only annoyance that all her efforts to catalogue the treasures had been reset to another jumble.
Nothing ever seemed to change here. The hands gave her the exact same stack of coins – she recognised the chip on one coin’s face.
What had once been wonderous had grown tedious.
In preparation for this battle, Delilah had waited three months in order to book a slot for two whole days on Floor Greed.
Cracking her knuckles, Delilah said, ‘I’m not leaving here until I’ve won this cave out from under you.’
The hands backed away, nails tapping nervously on the table.
Delilah started out strong, winning a dozen games in a row.
Although she could not tell how much time had passed, it felt like an entire day.
Sweat soaked the dyed roots of her hair.
The cards blurred in front of her. Delilah did not need sleep in Purgatory.
She could eat and drink for pleasure, but also could go without.
Breathing was more a habit than a necessity.
However, she did feel mental fatigue. Even as someone who loved poker, this relentless play had eroded her nerves.
The human brain was not meant to fire neurons for over twenty-four hours without rest. She rubbed her eyes.
On the thirteenth game, Delilah miscounted the cards and lost.
Leaning against the table, she took deep breaths. The green fuzzy surface flashed in and out. Her feet ached. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Her merely human body could not match the endless endurance of a magical creation. It felt miserable to lose not because of lack of skill, but exhaustion.
The hands started putting away the deck.
‘No.’ Baring her teeth, Delilah growled, ‘Deal. The. Cards.’
Thirteen games became thirty-five. The treasures of the cave packed precariously behind Delilah as she won them all. The tallest stack of gold with a chest on top looked as if it might be about to fall on her head. Good thing she couldn’t die. Again.
Delilah’s head throbbed as if being squeezed in a vice.
She squinted at the table. Between the cards in her hand and those on the table, she was one away from a royal flush in spades.
Unfortunately, her opponent must have a great hand to have remained in so long, since the disembodied gloves never bluffed.
One card remained to be dealt. If it was the ace of spades, then she’d have achieved the rare honour of the highest hand in poker.
A faint pulse of excitement penetrated the pain.
It had never before been so hard to do maths in her head.
The odds of the last card being the ace of spades was 4.
55 per cent. She usually avoided gambles below fifty per cent in probability.
Poker was a game of skill, but there was always an element of luck too.
If Delilah didn’t seize this chance, she would soon collapse from exhaustion.
It would be one final gamble, with her ascent to Heaven or a plummet to Hell on the line.
Adrenalin raced through her veins. This was what she lived for.
Or, rather, it was for this that she existed in a ghostly state.
Delilah grinned, but no longer from joy. This was the smile of musicians playing as the Titanic sank. It was a purely human expression of defiance against forces beyond their control. ‘All in.’
The hands trembled as they calculated what remained in the cave. To match, every treasure left would be required. One hand gave a thumbs-up to agree. Everything would rest on this final bet.
The moment when the card flipped over felt like the longest in Delilah’s existence, then the ace of spades with a skull drawn in the middle leered up at her.
‘YES!’ Delilah raised her face to the ceiling and simply soaked in her victory. The dopamine flooding her system erased her exhaustion in a moment of pure euphoria. ‘Everything in this cave is mine!’
The hands did not bother to show their own cards, knowing they could not beat her. They collapsed on to the table in a trembling heap.
Delilah felt a little guilty for tormenting a demonic spirit to the brink of insanity.
‘Great game.’ She patted a glove. ‘Don’t worry, you may have your cave back.
I won’t take a single gold coin. See? I’m not greedy.
Sorry for tiring you out. I just wanted to pass the test. You and me, I feel like we’ve bonded during my time here. I’ll send you a postcard from Heaven.’
Delilah sailed out of the cave, her legs feeling weightless.
There was a narrow lift waiting room with wooden walls outside the cave. Judging from the scowl on the rat-faced man waiting there, she’d exceeded her time slot despite booking a longer one. She opened her mouth to apologise, but he pushed past her without a word.
Damien waited for her in the lift with a water bottle and a towel. She drank deeply. As she mopped her brow, she said, ‘Thank you. How long was I in there?’
‘Fifty-four hours.’ He licked his lips. ‘We all worried about you.’
‘No wonder my back hurts.’ Delilah stretched her arms.
‘Judging from your grin, you won?’
‘I cleaned out the entire cave. Then gave it back, of course.’ She held up her hand, and he high-fived her. ‘I can’t possibly be more generous than that . . .’ Her voice trailed off as the black light lit up.
‘I’m sorry.’ Damien lowered his eyes.
‘What more can this insane test possibly want from me?’ Delilah screamed. ‘I can’t win more than this!’ She’d been strong for so long. Now she had no strength left. Tears overflowed from her eyes. ‘There’s . . . nothing left I can do . . .’
Damien handed her a handkerchief and put his arm round her.
‘You deserved to win. I’ve practised with you and seen how hard you’ve trained.
You’re amazing. Maybe the test is . . . not in line with your own values?
You shouldn’t risk a seventh time. It’s too dangerous.
You can get a job at the hotel instead.’
‘I did win.’ She mopped her face. ‘I’m going to complain to management.’
‘We don’t have any way to communicate with them.’
‘Wanna bet?’ Delilah grinned through her tears.
Delilah kicked open the door to Floor Greed. ‘I have a complaint!’
Shock froze her in place. Floor Greed had transformed into a jewellery store, with a circle of display cases holding sparkling rings, necklaces and bracelets sorted by gemstone type.
More diamond jewellery hung in the cabinets in the back.
Oddly, none of cases had glass to protect the valuable contents.
The rat-faced man had been stuffing rings into his pockets.
He looked up, eyes darting and nose twitching.
As soon as Delilah entered, a wall vanished and a poker table appeared in the back of the jewellery store. The floating hands held up the usual coins. If she’d been less angry, she would have been interested to see how the floor changed to match each guest.
‘I’m here to lodge a protest.’ Delilah glared, and the hands backed away.
Several coins slipped to the floor. ‘I played a perfect game and won. I should have been sent to Heaven.’ She pointed at the hands.
‘I will no longer play this unfair game. Consider this civic disobedience. By the way, your playing is dull and repetitive. You should learn how to bluff. I was only being polite when I complimented you before. You’ve ruined my favourite game. I don’t want to play poker ever again.’
As Delilah stalked away, a burden lifted off her shoulders. It felt good to get all her complaints off her chest. She stepped into the lift. ‘I gave them a piece of my mind.’
‘What did they say?’ Damien asked nervously.
‘Nothing, the hands don’t have a mouth. At least I feel better now.’ A light lit up in the corner of Delilah’s vision.
No. Surely that complaint couldn’t have counted as her seventh and final try. Surely she was not about to drop down into Hell. She hadn’t meant to take the test. In what just world would she be punished so severely for a mistake?
Except Delilah had come to suspect this hotel was not as perfectly just as she’d first believed.
She did not want to see. But her sin had never been cowardice. If this was the end, then she would face it head-on.
Trembling, Delilah turned to look.
The Heaven light blazed white.