Nari’s eyes glinted cunningly. “Stay here and work for me instead. I can keep you hidden from our relatives. You’re a bit young, but your Charm will compensate. Whatever your family’s told you about foxes having to lie low, if I know them, they’ve exaggerated the risk. You can serve refreshments and use your magic to make people comfortable. There’d be profit in it for both of us. Once you’ve saved enough, you can move on—but maybe by then you’ll have changed your mind about getting off Jinju in such a hurry.” She winked at me then.
I wavered. I didn’t plan to hang around. On the other hand, if she thought I did, maybe she would advance me some pay. I was still worried about not having any money for passage.
“The stories I could tell you about the wild days your mother and I had as kits!” Nari went on, sensing my weakness. “Of course, if you’re really in a hurry, I won’t have time. . . .”
If I was honest with myself, I was dying of curiosity. I couldn’t imagine my mom as having been anything like Nari, ever. I supposed I could safely afford to spend a few hours at the gambling parlor. At the very least, I could earn some tips.
“I’ll think it over,” I said, knowing better than to agree to anything too quickly. “Let me try it out tonight and see how it goes.” I could ask one of the patrons or a bouncer to point Captain Hye out to me when Nari wasn’t looking.
She smiled, her teeth gleaming white and sharp, like fangs. “Excellent,” she said. “You’ll fit right in here.”
don’t play dice at nari’s, the graffiti had said. I wondered what had happened to the person who’d left that warning. I’m a fox, too, I told myself, and ready for anything Nari can throw at me.
But what if I was wrong?
Before Nari let me out of her office, she explained my duties. Mostly she wanted me to wander around serving “refreshments”—her code word for the various kinds of wine on offer—while using my Charm to encourage customers to relax. People got tense when they were gambling, she told me, especially when they were losing. “Don’t try to influence the games—that’s against the rules,” she said. “Just make sure they’re having a good time. And don’t let them hassle you. I’ll have the bouncers keep an eye out for trouble.”
Then she directed me to conjure an outfit more appropriate for a gambling parlor, to replace my traveling clothes.
“Something like what you’re wearing, but not as fancy?” I asked, eyeing the brocade dragon-and-phoenix design that patterned her silk dress.
Nari laughed as if I’d said something particularly amusing. “Oh, my dear. Fancier, if you can manage it.”
Though I knew my mother would be horrified if she saw me serving drinks in her former gambling parlor, I had to admit I was happy about having the chance to use magic without limits or lectures. I took a moment to imagine a costume, then concentrated on making it materialize. Charm spun me a gray silk blouse stiff with embroidery and studded with small golden pearls that winked in the light like captive moons. Having the time to focus properly helped me magic up a perfectly tailored pair of slacks and slippers to match. Gold jewelry with more pearls glittered at my throat, ears, and wrists, and a gold hairpin held my hair up in an elaborate chiffon.
“Not bad,” Nari said, as if I were another pretty trinket decorating her office. “You’re definitely Seonmi’s daughter, maybe even more powerful than she was. One of these days I’ll tell you about the tricks she played. She was better at making crowds dozy than I was.”
My mom, powerful with Charm? And using her magic against groups of people? The thought unsettled me. To say nothing of the idea of my mom, who always wore plain clothes around the house, in an elaborate dress like Nari’s. I couldn’t picture it at all.
Nari brought me a mirror so I could check my appearance. I already knew I looked good, though. Maybe even good enough to impress the customers.
“Come,” Nari purred. She took my arm and guided me out onto the floor. “Your shift will end in four hours. Can’t push you too hard on your first day, after all.”
First and last day, I thought, wondering how I was going to convince her to advance me some money later tonight. She had said she owed Mom a favor. . . .
“Yong!” she called. One of the bouncers, who had been looming over a table of card players, made his way over to us. He was even larger than the man I’d met at the door. His vest was made of the same brocade as Nari’s dress. That, plus the tattoo that covered half his face in a lace-like pattern, made him look a bit like a floor lamp. But I noticed a slight lump under his vest, indicating a hidden weapon. I bet people didn’t underestimate him twice.
“Yong, this is a new greeter,” Nari said to the man. “Her name is Min. Show her around while I see to business, will you?” With that, she whisked off.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said to Yong, smiling up at him and wishing I’d chosen to be taller. “My name is actually Bora,” I added, flashing him my ID. No reason he needed to remember the name Min.
Yong grunted in response. He gave me a wordless tour of the gambling parlor’s various rooms. The entire place had been done up in red for good fortune, with gold-tone ornaments hanging from the walls. Any less restraint and the effect would have been tacky. Lively music played from hidden speakers, and I found it catchy.
My eyes went round when he took me past the private room in back for what looked like very intense card games. The gamblers casually tossed around handfuls of chits worth sums that could have kept my entire family fed and clothed for a year.
For that matter, Nari seemed to be doing pretty well herself as the owner of this establishment. What a different life Mom could have had. Did she ever regret her decision? I wondered.
“Is Captain Hye somewhere in here?” I asked Yong. “Nari mentioned her. . . .” I hoped this was vague enough not to raise Yong’s suspicions. I was wary of using Charm on him. If he worked for Nari, he had to know about fox magic.
“Nari’s warned you about her, huh?” Yong said, sounding weary. “She’s at the high-stakes table.”
“In that room we just passed?” I asked casually.
He nodded. “Woman with the red shirt and the scar on her chin. Her luck’s decidedly unpredictable. The way things look right now, she might even gamble her ship away.”
I suppressed a huff of alarm. I couldn’t let that happen if I was going to get off-planet tonight! Why couldn’t I have picked a captain who didn’t have a gambling habit? Still, maybe Captain Hye’s bad luck could be turned into an opportunity for me. I just had to get in there and talk her into leaving. But how?
At this hour, more people were coming to Nari’s to try their luck at various games, so I had to attend to my duties. I smiled at chattering gamblers while I shuttled to and from the bar with drinks. Yong and the other bouncers, dressed in identical uniforms, watched from their stations, their expressions professionally forbidding. One woman in a fancy fur coat raised a fuss when she lost everything at dice. Yong escorted her out as she jabbered that she just needed one more throw. I stifled a pang of unease. My use of Charm was encouraging people to stay longer and lose more money.
As the minutes wore on, I got better at determining which people had a real gambling habit and which had come to keep their friends company or enjoy a fun night out. I couldn’t always tell by how well or poorly dressed they were. But the gamblers had a haunted look in their eyes, and they stank of desperation.
I was starting to get an idea of why Mom had chosen to leave the gambling parlor behind. She wouldn’t approve of me being here, either, and especially the way I was using Charm. In the past, I’d only wielded it in small ways, not on whole groups of people like this. It took more effort than I was used to.
“You there!” a gambler called out, a man with a red face and a beard that had seen better days. “Another cup of cheongju, if you would!”
I smiled coolly at him. “I’ll be right back.” Cheongju is rice wine, I reminded myself. I’d never had it, but my mom and aunties sometimes indulged on New Year’s Day, or offered a cup to the ancestors.
Nari kept the wine in a dizzyingly crowded bar in the back, next to the tiny kitchen that dispensed snacks for favored guests. No one had told me the name of the wizened female bartender. She scowled at me every time I appeared to retrieve a drink for one of the customers.
Inspiration struck. “Cheongju, please,” I said, “and a gukhwaju as well, for Captain Hye.” Gukhwaju was chrysanthemum wine. I picked it at random, mainly because it came in a fancy bottle, so I figured it was the good stuff.
The wizened woman’s scowl deepened. “Hye’s luck has changed, eh? Well, that won’t last, but it’s her funeral.”
The way she said this aroused my curiosity. “What do you mean?”