22 | Silver
“No. No. No,” Hanna yells, tossing a game piece in the air and doling out a handful of cards into piles in front of her.
“There aren’t six pieces. There’s no way that’s part of the rules,” Luna replies, her voice as loud as I’ve ever heard it. She’s not shouting, but she’s as close to it as she can get.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t part of the rules that the picture cards only count if there’s a tarot mixed in the deck,” Hanna yells back.
I’ve just come out from the bathroom and it seems like I’ve walked into full-blown warfare. Fueled by a board game that no one knows the rules to, considering they were made up a few years ago and each of us only remembers bits and pieces.
And the person who somehow knew them all isn’t here today.
We’ve been together most of the day. We spent hours helping Ro in the kitchen as he ordered everyone around like they were his minions. Somehow, being in charge in the kitchen morphed him into a different person and he got this gleam in his eye as he set us all to work. He even made Zeph reset the table with a tablecloth he’d dug out from who knows where, because it was ‘befitting for this masterpiece of a meal’.
Dinner itself was delicious. Chicken, roasted with lemon and herbs, potatoes and these melt-in-your-mouth buttery vegetables. He’d even whipped up a decadent chocolate tart for dessert, and he fed all ten of us with this look of pure joy on his face as though the whole day had given him a boost of energy.
I’m in awe. He has such a way of making everyone feel comfortable, bringing the shyer ones of our group out of their shells.
I’ve never seen Una giggle so much and I’m pretty sure she’s now his second biggest fan. First biggest is me, of course. I’m the card-carrying, badge-wearing chairwoman of his fan club and I have zero shame in that.
Roscoe even managed to get Dante involved once we decided to play board games. Although I don’t think either of them realized quite how quickly things would devolve once my family got involved.
Every and all attempts at playing any sort of game always wind up in an argument. And if there’s no bloodshed, that’s a rare and venerated success.
Dante’s sitting on the sofa, watching with a vaguely horrified expression on his face that makes me grin. I quickly jump in to intervene before things turn nasty and he witnesses how nuts everyone in my family can be.
“Guys, do we need to have another conversation about the non-existent rules of this stupid made up game?”
“Excuse me?” Hanna turns her attention to me, looking slightly manic with her hair all over her head and her eyes blazing with competitive craziness. “Did you just call The Chimera’s Gambit stupid?” She tosses a card at my head, and as it flutters to the ground, Luna gasps.
“The tower.”
“This game actually has a name?” Zeph mutters.
I frown at Luna, checking her eyes to see if she’s having another vision. But she’s engrossed in the game, slapping the card down triumphantly.
“The tower,” Luna repeats gleefully. “That’s six points to me.”
“I don’t understand this game,” Dante mutters.
“I don’t think anyone does. It seems like they’re making it up as they go,” Fabian replies. “I have... a chess piece, a Monopoly iron and five cards. I don’t know what I’m meant to do with any of them.”
Seb’s sitting to the right of Fabian, eyeing the whole proceedings with pure teenage derision. “Pretty sure they’re making it so you can’t understand, so only they can win.”
“Sounds right enough,” Rook rumbles, causing Hanna to chuck a game piece in his direction.
“Well, we only ever had versions of games that people had tossed or thrifted which meant half the pieces were missing or had been, like, chewed. We had to cobble together our own version,” she replies.
One Ember always seemed to win.
There’s been an ache in my chest all day, despite all the fun and laughter and good food. His absence has hung over us all, along with the vague unsettled feeling that we’re tucked away in our safe bunker for the moment while a storm rages just outside.
Every reminder of a story he told, or a sardonic joke he’d usually make, sends another pang in my heart. It’s fucked up, but it’s almost as if he died and we’re trying to learn to live with the hole in our lives his absence causes.
I guess I feel kind of like I”m grieving him. Grieving having trusted him implicitly, anyway.
He hasn’t tried to come by and I haven’t seen him since that meeting on the street where he told us about the living statues. Part of me is still so mad at him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hope he’s all right. Safe.
The images of his bruised arms flash into my mind again and it’s suddenly all I want to run over there and drag him back here.
Then I remember how he got me to drink water that nulled my magic and I’m back to being conflicted.
Fuck, I hate this so much.
Roscoe seems to read where my mind is at as he tugs me down to sit on his lap, playing with the Pretty Princess ring I’m wearing on my right hand. He’s got a matching bracelet and Zeph is wearing another ring on his pinkie finger. Every one of us has a piece of the cheap jewelry on us, and so far it seems to be working, protecting us from any unwanted snooping inside our heads.
“Who wants to help me teach the twins to cheat at poker?” Roscoe asks. “I reckon I can turn them into card sharks in no time.”
It seems to be the right thing to ask, instantly breaking the growing tension between Hanna and Luna. Hanna leans forward, sticking her hands out and making ‘gimme-gimme’ motions while Luna carefully collects the pile of cards and hands them over.
My eyes scan over the room, and a small smile appears on my face. Fabian is sitting opposite me, looking like he might fall asleep any minute. His eyes warm when they meet mine and he gives me a sleepy smile, causing my stomach to flip over.
Zeph moves closer to the action, taking a seat on Dante’s other side while Una squeezes in next to me and Roscoe, squeezing herself up against the arm of the sofa.
Ro shuffles the cards, making them dance in front of him and using a mixture of sleight-of-hand and his illusion magic to make them appear and disappear. He’s like a freaking magician and we’re all mesmerized for a moment before he snaps his fingers and starts dealing the cards.
He places down a card, and I snort. It’s got a picture of a pig on it and I don’t even know where it came from.
“Ah, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Imagine it’s a Queen of Hearts.”
Snapping his fingers again, it then morphs into a... raw potato. He frowns down at it and snaps his fingers once more.
“What the hell is with these cards?” he mutters. With every snap of his fingers, the card morphs into something equally ridiculous and I can’t tell if it’s all part of his routine, or he’s genuinely annoyed by it.
I snort when he draws another card, and that one turns into a potato too.
My snort turns into a full-blown giggle when he looks over his shoulder at me, looking so damn affronted, it makes me lose it. Giggles overpower me, especially once Una and then Mona join in. It’s like a contagion of laughter with Hanna and Luna snorting and clutching their faces.
Fabian and Seb look slightly dumbfounded and it’s that which triggers even more laughter until my ribs feel like they’re fit to burst and my abs have had a full workout.
Roscoe tries once more and then drops the cards on the table, flopping back on the sofa and dragging me along with him.
“Sorry, girls. Guess we’d better try another day with a fresh pack of cards. One that’s not so damn weird.”
I snort again, and he tightens his hold around my waist, leaning his chin on my shoulder. We wind up watching movies until late, all together on every chair and spare surface, wrapped up in cozy blankets and snuggled up on soft cushions.
For a few hours, it’s bliss.
By the time people start to make a move and head off to bed, I can barely keep my eyes open.
My sleepiness fades though when I bully Dante into staying over, dragging him into my room. I’m then barely able to stop myself drooling as I watch him carefully remove the shirt he’s wearing, folding them neatly and hanging it on the back of a chair that’s stacked with my semi-dirty clothes.
Once he’s down to just an undershirt and his unbuttoned slacks, he looks at me with that mesmerizing amber gaze.
“I’ve not shared a bed in a long time,” he breathes.
“You, er, don’t have to. If you don’t feel comfortable.” I feel kind of bad for making him stay. I just didn’t like the idea of him heading home alone. Not after today and how good it felt to have everyone around, happy and with our worries shoved in a box to deal with tomorrow.
“I know it’s not your usual hours for sleeping too,” I say.
He glances at the windows where it’s now the dead of night and raises an eyebrow. “It’s not far off.”
“Oh shit, are you wearing seasonal undies?” Roscoe exclaims, popping his head inside the door. “I think I’m wearing the same ones.”
Dante glances down and then shrugs with a surprising grin. “Ah, not today. Going commando.”
I blush as Dante slips off the rest of his clothes with zero shame before climbing into my bed. He holds open the covers and I strip off and shove an oversized shirt over my head before climbing in beside him.
Dante then glances over at Roscoe, who is still hovering by the door in his bright green holiday underpants, his tattooed chest fully on display.
“Are you getting in then, or what?” Dante asks casually, causing Roscoe to beam.
I wasn’t too sure he’d be into the whole bed-sharing thing, especially with his less than stellar history with my mages. Roscoe clambers into bed on my other side and plasters himself to my back while Dante wraps an arm around me, holding me close to his chest where I can hear the slow but steady beating of his heart.
I’m exhausted after the day. That and the entire week is catching up with me, so it doesn’t take long for me to drift into a dreamless sleep.