“What if someone steals it?” said Molly, practical as ever.
“Heaven forefend that such a thing should happen in this hotel,” said Scott. “But if you were to lose it . . . that would only prove that Mr. Bond is not worthy to attend the Big Game, after all. And we would give his place to whoever might turn up with the card. The Casino really is very blunt and practical about things like that.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said, slipping the invitation carefully into my pocket dimension.
Scott looked at me knowingly. “A very useful hiding place, Mr. Bond. You made very good use of it at Last Man Standing.”
“You were watching?” said Molly.
“I watch everything,” said Scott. “That’s my job.”
“Are there rules against using such things?” I said.
“Not as such,” said Scott. “And the extremely powerful null zone operating at the Big Game will of course render it of no use to you. For the duration.”
“Can’t keep anything secret here!” Molly said brightly.
“No,” said Scott. “You can’t.” He looked at me directly. “Eight p.m. sharp, Mr. Bond. Don’t be late, or you won’t be admitted. Card or no card. And Mr. Bond, the invitation to play is extended strictly to you, and you alone. You may of course bring Miss Molly Metcalf with you, as your plus one, should you so choose, but she will not be allowed to play, or wager, or interfere in any way.” He glanced briefly at Frankie. “Leave your pet behind.”
“Why is the invitation just for Shaman?” Molly said hotly. “I did my bit!”
“There can be only one,” Scott said smoothly. “And Shaman won most of the souls through his efforts.”
He then produced a heavy folder out of nowhere. Made me wonder whether he might have a pocket dimension of his own, and what else he might keep in it. The entire Jackson Fifty-five, for all I knew. Scott presented me with the folder, marked with the hotel crest in gold, and then looked at me expectantly. So I opened the folder. It contained several sheets of top-quality paper, also marked with the hotel crest, bearing row upon row of names. I leafed quickly through the pages, but it was all nothing but names. I looked at Scott.
“This is your receipt, Mr. Bond. For all the souls you won at the Games, and entrusted to our hotel safe. Every name is there, every soul that now belongs to you. The living and the dead. Again, sir, please don’t lose this. It is your only proof of ownership. All lost souls revert to the Casino. Well, I think that’s everything. Unless you have any questions?”
I would have liked to ask about the whereabouts of my own soul. Whose list it appeared on. But I couldn’t, because the Casino only had a claim on Eddie Drood’s soul, and I was Shaman Bond. The generic flunky at the Medium Games had seen the constraints on my soul, but he hadn’t actually asked my name. Just as well, really. Could have been awkward. I decided to change the subject.
“Am I bringing the largest number of souls won to the Big Game?” I asked bluntly.
Scott couldn’t hold back a small condescending smile. “Hardly, sir. But you did make a very good showing, for a first-time contender. I’m sure we’re all very interested to see how you’ll do at the Big Game, Mr. Bond.”
He smiled again, nodded politely to one and all, and left. The door closed itself behind him. Molly made a rude gesture at the door.
“I should have been invited! A lot of those souls should be mine!”
“He won more than you,” Frankie said impassively. “That’s how it works here.”
Molly sniffed loudly. I was still leafing through the pages in the hotel folder. So many names . . . I didn’t like the idea of owning other people’s souls. Too much like slavery.
“Stop looking,” said Frankie, kindly enough. “You never know, you might recognise a name. It’s better not to know.”
“You can always set them free later,” said Molly. “After we’ve broken the bank at Casino Infernale. In fact . . . if we break the bank really badly, and damage the Shadow Bank enough . . . then maybe their hold on their souls will be broken.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like that.” I looked at Frankie. “Would that apply to all those faces in the corridor?”
“I don’t know,” Frankie said carefully. “I don’t think the subject has ever come up before. I would have to say that we’re treading in unknown and very theoretical territory here. Even if you do somehow manage to break the bank at Casino Infernale, a thing that has never ever been done before, that doesn’t mean you’d in any way break the Shadow Bank’s control over its many holdings. Economical and spiritual. The Casino’s just a fund raiser for the Bank, when all is said and done. The best you can realistically hope for is to weaken their position enough to stop this war you’re so worried about over the Crow Lee Inheritance. Whatever that might turn out to be. But that’s it! That’s enough, isn’t it?”
“That was before I got a good look at how the Shadow Bank operates,” I said. “Before I saw the faces.”
“Oh, God,” said Molly. “He’s gone all ambitious again. That’s rarely good.” She looked at Frankie. “I’d start running now, if I were you.”
“That thought is never far from my mind,” said Frankie. He looked at me thoughtfully. “You know, that is a whole bunch of souls you’ve got there, in your hands. Representing more money than you could ever hope to spend in one lifetime. I know you’ve been talking about releasing them all back into the wild, but I’m sure the family wouldn’t miss a few. . . . I could get you a really good deal on the underground Soul Market. . . . No? All right, how about this? It occurs to me that the family might prefer you to hang on to certain bad guy souls. To give the Droods power and control over them.”
“The family doesn’t work like that,” I said.
“Since when?” said Frankie.
I closed the folder, and put it away in my pocket dimension. Just in case.
“The important thing is to regain control of your own soul, Eddie,” said Molly. “And those of your parents.”
I looked at her. “What about all those claims on your soul? I’m going to have to do something about that.”
“You’re so sweet,” said Molly. She came forward to stand right in front of me, so we could stare into each other’s eyes.
“Are you two going back into the shower again?” said Frankie. “Are you even listening to me? Oh, hell . . . can I have some money to go to the pictures?”
“Hold it,” I said, tearing my gaze away from Molly to glare steadily at Frankie. “I still want to know exactly what’s happened to my parents. I can’t believe the hotel or the Casino would just let them leave, and escape, not when they had a claim on their souls. They must have some way of tracking them . . . so, just maybe, the Casino has my parents imprisoned somewhere here in the hotel. Ask around, Frankie. The Players may have left, but most of the staff are probably still here. Talk to them; see if anybody knows anything.”
Frankie nodded quickly. “Got it, boss.”
He left. Molly looked at me.
“We have to talk about your parents, Eddie. Even if we do break the bank here, we have to accept we might not be able to free their souls, or yours, from the Shadow Bank.”
“Then I’ll just have to do whatever it takes to bring down the Shadow Bank,” I said. “Not just for my sake, but for everyone’s.”
“Whatever happened to better the devil you know, and all that?” said Molly.
“That was before I got a look at how they do things,” I said. “I will not suffer this to continue, Molly. I can’t. It’s not just about me any more, or my parents. Or even stopping an inconvenient war. You saw the faces, Molly. Like Frankie said, they might as well be in Hell. If I turn my gaze away, it’s like I’m saying They knew what they were doing, they deserve it, it’s none of my business. And I can’t do that.”