Molly gave me a hard look. “You are not Pit fighting again. I had a hard enough job putting you back together again last time.”
“I would rather avoid that, if possible,” I said. “I don’t like what that kind of Game brings out in me.” And then I stopped, as something caught my eye. “Hold everything, people, and look up.”
We all looked up. At a night sky full of unfamiliar constellations. Stars burned fiercely, in all the colours of the rainbow, and three huge moons glowed bitter yellow against the dark. It was actually disturbing, to suddenly see a night sky so different from the one I was used to. It felt as though someone had ripped the world out from under my feet, while I wasn’t looking. I glared about me. It all seemed bright as day. I looked down, at the ground. The grass beneath my feet had a definite purple tinge to it, among the dark green.
“Those aren’t our stars,” said Molly. “We’re not in Nantes any more, Toto.”
“Just how much power does the Casino have?” I said. “To power a dimensional door like that? To transport us to a whole new world just to play Games?”
“Why do you keep asking me questions, when you must know by now that I’m not going to be able to answer?” said Frankie. “No! I don’t know where we are! No, I don’t know how we got here, or how they do it. For all I know it’s all done with mirrors. The important thing for both of you to concentrate on is that the only way for us to get back is for you to win at the Games.”
“And win big,” said Molly.
“Well, obviously,” said Frankie. “That is why we’re here.”
He led us down the hill to the Arena, and the purple-green grass crunched dryly under our feet. Rows of stalls had been set up around the outer perimeter, offering complimentary champagne and mulled wine, along with the usual assortment of civilised nibbles. All taste and no substance, but absolutely guaranteed to be packed full of everything that was bad for you. I walked straight past the stalls, dragging Molly along with me when she showed signs of being tempted. My gaze was fixed on the Arena. There was something about the bare, brutal sensibilities of that open stone circle, surrounded by open stone seating, that made it seem just as brutal as the Pit. A very old game, and a very old spectacle, designed to appeal to our most basic emotions. To bring out the beast in us.
Frankie strayed towards one of the stalls, and I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back again.
“Hey!” said Frankie, not actually fighting me. “I could use a little something for the inner man! I have been on the go all day. . . .”
“Never trust goblin food,” I said.
Frankie looked at Molly. “What?”
“You can never tell where goblin fruit has its roots,” Molly said briskly. “He’s being paranoid and so should you. I don’t like this place. It doesn’t feel like a place where people come to play games. This is where people come to fight and kill and die, while other people watch and bet on the outcome, and have a good time.”
Frankie shrugged. “That’s what Casino Infernale is all about. That’s what all casinos and all gambling is about. They’re just a little bit more honest about it here.”
“Talk to me, Frankie,” I said. “Tell me things I need to know. What kind of Games do they play in this place?”
“Just a handful of actual Games, really,” Frankie said quickly. “It’s more about the side bets. And remember, from now on, it’s all about the souls. The Casino makes all such transfers possible, and enforces the outcome, and of course the house always takes its more than generous cut along the way. Cheaters really don’t prosper here.”
“But what Games are there?” I said. “What should we choose?”
“I don’t know,” said Frankie, looking interestedly about him. “I never made it this far before.”
He broke off abruptly, as both Molly and I grabbed him by the arms and swung him round to face us.
“Then what use are you to us?” Molly said bluntly.
“I know the general rules!” Frankie said quickly. “And I have talked to a lot of the staff about the Medium Games. They hear all kinds of things. . . . Look, I know how the Games work, and I know how they do things here. Basically, you have to challenge someone, before someone challenges you.”
I looked back at the Arena. Stone seats, surrounding a stone circle of death. More and more people arriving, presumably from other dimensional doors. They filled the rows, usually in small chattering groups, eating and drinking and laughing, ready for the spectacle to come. Like so many predators with their nasty smiles and hungry eyes. And part of me wanted to kill every single one of them just on general principle.
I was right, this kind of Game really did bring out the worst in me.
A uniformed flunky approached us, and we all turned to face him. He stopped a respectful distance away, and bowed courteously. The uniform was basic; the person inside it even more so. Average height, average weight, all within acceptable parameters. It was the face that gave everything away. He had no hair on his head, no eyebrows, no trace there had ever been any hair on his face. And his features were strangely blank, utterly lacking in character. Almost a generic face. A generic uniformed flunky. Except, the clothes looked somehow wrong, on something that wasn’t actually human. Like dressing up a dog. He started speaking, in a calm uninflected voice, and I paid careful attention.
“Mr. Shaman Bond, I regret to inform you, sir, that if you are contemplating wagering your soul in any of the Medium Games, that cannot be allowed. Our records show that the Casino already has a claim on your soul. It was used as collateral, some time earlier, by another player in another Game. It was lost to the Casino.”
“I know,” I said. “I have already been told that and I would like the Casino to know that I am not at all happy about it. I would, in fact, very much like to see the Casino try to collect. But, that’s a matter for another time. I’m not betting my soul. I’m betting hers.”
And I nodded at Molly, who smiled brightly at the flunky.
“Hi there!” she said sweetly. “I’m Molly Metcalf!”
The flunky bowed again, briefly. “We know who you are, miss. Your arrival here set off all kinds of alarms. Including a few we didn’t even know we had, until you woke them up. Our records indicate that there are already a number of claims in place on your soul.”
“Yes,” said Molly. “But not by the Casino!”
“True,” said the flunky. “Very well. There are . . . precedents. You may continue in the Games, sir and miss.”
“You didn’t mention Frankie’s soul,” I said.
“We wouldn’t accept anything that soiled, sir,” said the flunky.
“Excuse me,” I said. “But, I have to ask . . . are you human?”
“I am a generic human template, sir,” said the flunky. “Grown here at the factory farms, on behalf of Casino Infernale. I live to serve.”
“This isn’t planet Earth, is it?” said Molly.
“I do not know the name, no, sir and miss,” said the generic flunky.
“Then where are we?” I said. “Exactly?”
“Sector Seventeen, sir. Home to the Medium Games. I have not been programmed with any further information on these matters.”
“Doesn’t the Casino have a . . . representative here, to run things?” I said.
“No, sir. This is our place, given over to us. We run things here in return for being left alone.”
“And, when there are no Games?” said Molly.
“There are always Games, miss. We are made to serve.”
“Can’t you say no?” I said.
“We are not allowed that privilege, sir,” said the flunky. “It is not a part of our programming. The best we can hope for is that while some of us run the Games, some of us are left alone.”