Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

“...I honestly don’t know what came over me,” Esmi was confessing. “I try very hard to see the best in others in all circumstances, but Glydnuk just looked so smug standing there, and Badgou was being entirely intractable. Once I’d finally won the match it all just came boiling up, and I just… spoke my mind. I’m afraid I was somewhat less than demure.”

“I thought it was incredible,” Afi confessed, sipping some kind of sparkling drink. “These fancy folks could stand to hear a few more straight words and hard truths.”

Esmi shrugged uncomfortably. “Yes, but I’m one of those fancy folks. I fear my own hypocrisy far more than any censure of my peers.”

“You stood up for your man,” I said around a mouthful of roast bird. “The rest of ‘em can like it or they can stuff it.”

We were sitting at a round table not far from the dancing floor, where liveried staff served a dazzling array of food to those who wished, moving in step to the music as if they were dancing themselves. The nobility who chose to dance swirled and swayed with their partners in a hypnotic kind of chaos, and with a full belly and two glasses of fizzy wine in me, I was starting to see the appeal of this kind of thing. Life didn’t have to be just struggling on the streets or fighting for new cards in the arena all the time, did it? Maybe every now and then a fellow could just eat with his friends, forgetting for a moment all his past mistakes and future concerns, enjoying the music and experiencing a bit of peace. I wondered if a third glass of bubbly would increase the feeling and decided there was only one way to find out.

“Speaking of your man,” I said, snatching a fluted glass from a passing servant, “where’d he say he was off to?”

Esmi delicately lifted a carefully-cut cube of seared steak to her lips, pausing to answer before eating. “A brief conference with his family. I hope it will be brief, at least.”

“Asked and answered,” Basil said cheerily, slipping into the seat next to her and pecking her on the cheek as she beamed at him, chewing her steak. “The quality of company out here suits me far better.”

“Problems?” Esmi asked, concerned.

“Nothing new,” he sighed. “Mother simply cannot see me as anything but eternally six years old, clutching a book and hiding from company.”

“You were adorable at six,” Esmi objected.

He laughed ruefully. “Many thanks, dearest, but in this case she thinks I can’t possibly know my own mind and would be best served by letting her make all my decisions. It was her that pushed for Gale to replace me, it turns out. I heard it from her own lips.”

Esmi’s eyebrows raised and she pursed her lips. “In the interest of preserving good relations with my future mother-in-law, I will keep my current thoughts to myself.”

“She will come to love you,” Basil said, “or else she will find that she sees very little of her grandchildren.”

Esmi looked at him adoringly and leaned over to kiss him. I felt a warmth in my chest watching them that the wine couldn’t quite account for, and Afi seemed touched. “Stop it, you two,” I said roughly, “unless you’re planning on starting on those grandchildren right now.”

They laughed and separated. “I think we’ve given the gathering quite enough of a show for the evening,” Esmi said. “Now I just want to enjoy the rest of the Gala and not have a single consequential thought.”

Afi tsked. “And here I was hoping for a play-by-play from both of you.”

“Tomorrow,” Basil sighed. “There will be time enough for dueling analysis and card elevations when we’re back at War Camp.”

“We should dance,” Afi said to me, turning to the dance floor.

“I’ve told it you it’s a bad idea,” I said. “But if you’re going to insist, at least give me a few minutes. I think I ate a whole bird, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want it all over your shoes.”

“As elegant and charming as ever, my friend,” Basil said, lifting a glass in mock salute.

“Oh, my,” Afi murmured, looking out at the dancers. “Is the Viscountess Douthim really doing what I think she is?”

“The who?” I asked blankly.

She pointed her chin subtly toward an elderly woman with deeply wrinkled skin and thin white hair teased up into a tower over her head. She was wearing a grand-looking silver gown somewhat spoiled by a large red wine stain down the side. Her dancing partner was a dapper-looking man a good twenty years her junior who had the extra-real look of a summoned Soul.

“That’s her husband,” she whispered.

I looked closer. The Soul looked down tenderly, and the Viscountess had her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, and a look of bliss on her face.

“Darling,” Basil broke in, speaking loudly to Esmi, “wouldn’t you like to take a turn on the balcony?”

“It’s all right, dear,” she said softly, sounding sad. “I can bear it.”

I looked from them – Basil looking concerned, Esmi wistful – to the old lady and back, completely confused. “Will someone tell me what the hell is happening right now? It’s like you’re all speaking a different language all of a sudden.”

Afi kept her voice low. “You’re not supposed to dance with your cards, especially not like that.”

I frowned. “But it’s her husband. I suppose he died? She’s just dancing with him. It’s sweet.”

Basil cleared his throat delicately with a careful glance at Esmi. “It is, but there’s a law as old as the hills that says one mustn’t, ah…”

“You’re not supposed to sleep with your cards,” Afi said bluntly.

Basil winced, spread his hands, and nodded. “In so many words, yes. It’s an issue of coercion, you see. One’s cards must obey them. That, in turn, has grown up into an expectation among polite society that one ought not to be publicly affectionate with one’s Souls. If one is willing to dance where others can see, the thinking goes, what might one do where others cannot?”

It still felt ridiculous to me. “But it’s her husband. Who cares? Who else is going to give her the time of day?”

Afi waffled a hand. “Well, if you’ve got your dead husband’s card, nobody really asks the awkward questions, you know? You’re lonely, they know you best…” She spread her hands in a whatever goes kind of gesture. “And sure, things get a little fishy when you’re talking about a Soul below Rare that can’t speak their mind, but all in all folks are content to mind their own business. It’s a little hard to do that, though, when you trot the fellow out for a cuddle in front of the whole court!”

Esmi had a look of grim determination and downed the rest of her glass, not looking at the dance floor.

“Okay, so the old bird got drunk and is making an ass of herself,” I said. “Good for her. Why’s that putting your knickers in a twist, Curly?”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Basil said quietly, covering her hand with his.

Esmi deflated in her chair. “I’ve been trying to get my mother’s card back for my father for the past five years,” she said softly. “He never really recovered when she died, and if he could just have a conversation with her…” She looked up at us with sudden sternness. “My father is a proper man. He would never –” She struggled to find the words. “He just needs to know that she’s back home safely.”

“You can see how a display like that of the Viscountess might be difficult for her,” Basil said.

“And here I am pointing it out like a fool,” Afi said. “I’m so sorry.”

Esmi painted on a smile. “It’s not your fault. It caught me by surprise, is all. My feelings are close to the surface tonight.” She laughed ruefully. “As I believe everyone in attendance has noticed.”

“Do you know who has your mother’s card?” I asked. I felt the need to do whatever I could for her, for them. “Is there someone I can lean on? Send some demons after?”

She laughed helplessly. “You’d be sending them after my maternal grandfather, and unfortunately, it will take more than a few demons to change his mind. He's not only insufferably stubborn but quite formidable. No, Hull, thank you – this is a problem only I can solve.”

“And you,” said Gale, flouncing down across the table from her, “are a problem I don’t have to solve, and I can’t thank my little brother enough for that.”

Basil stiffened, his mouth hardening into a flat line. “I hardly think that’s an appropriate way to address the woman who might have given you the rest of her life.”

“It’s all right, dearest,” Esmi said, a dangerous glint in her eye. “That was never going to happen one way or the other.”

Gale pointed at her. “You see? She understands. I’m not the man for the job, and Twins, what a relief. Do you know how many lovelies I’ve left pining and wasting away while I tried to play the good son and prepare for this marriage?”

“Those poor girls,” Afi said dryly, burying a smile in her drink.

“Don’t let us keep you from your conquests,” Esmi said, gesturing to the dance floor. “I’ll stay here thinking on what might have been and thanking the Twins with all my heart.”

“Oh, loosen up, both of you,” Gale said amiably. “I came over to give you my thanks, and I mean it. I’m in your debt; you can expect the most lavish wedding gift from me that Treledyne has ever seen.”

“You can’t just swan about forever fighting duels and pinching bottoms,” Basil said.

“Watch me try,” his brother retorted, tossing back the rest of his drink. “Though if you think pinching is the lowest I’ll go, you don’t know me at all.”

“What a gentleman,” Afi said, laughing. “How do the girls ever resist you?”

“Very poorly,” he said with gusto. “Come have a dance and you’ll see how it’s done.”

She leaned back in her chair, leaning toward me and tucking her shoulder into me. “I’ll stick with my Lows escort, thank you. He actually is a gentleman.”

I casually draped my hand over her shoulder, feeling a fiercely satisfied glow in my chest.

“The irony,” Gale muttered.

“Drinks?” a familiar voice said from behind me. I looked back and stiffened. My mother held a tray of beverages, a bland smile pasted on her face.

“We’re fine, thank you,” I said quickly.

Afi wasn’t having it. “All right, let’s have the truth, Bryll. You’re not here serving – not dressed like that – and you keep hovering about like Hull owes you money. How does a Lows girl not only get an invitation to the Gala but end up with the Queen’s ear? You’ve got all the great lords whispering behind their hands and wondering what you’re up to. Care to enlighten us?”

“If I thought you were capable of enlightenment, I might,” Mother said lightly. “As it stands, you’ll have to wonder with the rest of them.”

“You’ve certainly got me wondering about a few things,” Gale said with an appreciative look.

She gave a sultry laugh. “You’ve already lost one duel tonight, my pretty lordling. Do you think you can afford to lose another?”

“Depends on the ante,” he said, quirking an eyebrow.

Afi made a disgusted sound. “I think I need some air. Hull, take a turn with me?”

I knew it was the polite thing to do, and I quailed inwardly at what she’d think of me, but I just couldn’t leave my friends unprotected in my mother’s presence. “You go ahead. I’ll come find you in a few minutes.”

She gave me a long, frosty look before standing and sweeping away.

“Oh pooh, your lady love’s gotten all mad,” Mother pouted.

“Will you go away?” I whispered harshly. “We can talk later.”

“Don’t go,” Gale said. “Come have a dance with me.”

“That’s a bad idea,” I told him.

“Isn’t it just?” he said. He rose and offered an arm to my mother, who winked at me, set down the tray of drinks, and glided away on his arm.

“Hull, what’s going on?” Basil asked in a low voice. “Who is that woman?”

I sighed, put my elbows on the table, and covered my eyes. “That’s my mother,” I said just as quietly. “She’s been sneaking in and out of War Camp to work out some kind of alliance treaty for the demons, and she’s decided to make my life as difficult as possible tonight.”

A pregnant silence followed my words. “I beg your pardon?” Esmi finally said.

“She threatened to kill anyone I told,” I warned them, “so keep it to yourself. Apparently the negotiations are secret. It’s why I haven’t said anything, but…” I gestured out at the dance floor where she was spinning gracefully with Gale, dancing much closer than any of the others. “I’m in over my head.”

“Your mother works for the demons?” Basil asked, aghast.

“My mother is a demon,” I told him, to which they both gave me blank stares. It was like I could see their minds churning over the fact that she looked just as human as the rest of us and only a few years older than me. “It’s, uh… complicated.”

Basil reached over and put his hand on mine. “Are you all right?”

I laughed, hearing an edge of hysteria in it. “She showed up and almost killed me before she knew who I was, but she’s been sweet as pudding since. She disappears for weeks on end and pops in out of nowhere when I least expect. She told me not to eat the pastries tonight but then said it was just a joke.” Eyeing the tray of drinks, I decided they weren’t safe and started pouring the concoctions into our empty soup bowls just in case. “I think she’s decided she doesn’t like Afi simply because I’m her escort, and…” I gestured aimlessly, stressed and baffled.

“You do make life interesting,” Esmi said. Then she looked past the dancers and her mouth pulled down into a frown. “Twins take me,” she growled.

“What is it?” Basil asked, following her gaze.

The contingent of dwarves approached the table, still clustered in a protective huddle, Badgou leading the group. “Well, shit,” I said.

“We will trade for the Mythic,” Badgou said.

“Will you?” Esmi said. “How interesting. I’m not certain I’m interested in your trades.”

“You will never cultivate Depths,” the dwarf leader said. “The card is useless to you.”

“One never knows what the future holds,” Esmi countered. “Depths might be an interesting foil to Fire in my deck.”

“You will never cultivate Depths,” Badgou repeated. “Only in our homeland can it be done, and we will not allow you to enter.”

“Will not allow,” Esmi said slowly, as if tasting each word. “You come asking to trade and start with threats and insults?”

Badgou cocked her head. “If I insult you, you will know it. I am only saying what is.”

Esmi shook her head. “Very well. What do you offer in trade?”

“A weapon Relic of our own make,” Badgou said. “Rare in quality.”

Basil burst out laughing. “That’s absurd.”

Esmi spread her hands. “My fiancé is correct. Even if I never use Depths, I can trade this card for many, many times more than the value of a Rare Relic, no matter its maker’s mark. I think you do intend to insult me.”

“You will not trade that card,” Badgou said. The other dwarves did their best to loom behind her despite their shortness. “We have arrangements with your Crown: no trader may accept Depths cards unless they have Deepkin blood.”

“Like Findek,” I said, remembering the half-dwarf who’d gotten the better of our trade during the Tournament.

“Yes,” she said. “And Findek already knows not to trade with you.”

“I’ve never heard of such a stipulation,” Basil objected. “Traders are free to deal in what they wish, excepting Chaos.”

“We have just secured the agreement from your Queen,” Badgou said. “Ask her if you wish.”

The wine in Esmi’s glass began to seethe, and she set it down with a click. “You’re trying to cheat me out of a card I won fairly and pay me a pittance. I won’t have it. Maybe this card will sit in my grimoire and gather dust instead.”

“Argun is one of our most honored forefathers,” Badgou said. “He must return to the Depths.”

“Then you’ll create a Legendary Relic of my choosing,” Esmi said, “and give me free rein in the Depths to cultivate your source if I wish.”

One of the dwarves near the back gave a rocky rumble. Badgou might be keeping a good face on it, but they were upset by losing Basil and the advantage he represented. I tried to catch Harganut’s eye, but he avoided it. He hadn’t been such a bad sort most of the time, just odd and withdrawn; now he’d joined ranks with his kin and wanted nothing to do with me.

Badgou shook her head. “I would sooner chip off my own toes that deliver one of our mightiest weapons into human hands.”

“Why did any of you even come to War Camp?” Esmi demanded. “You’ve hardly participated at all, you keep to yourselves, and now you jeapardize your entire alliance with the humans by attempting to steal my fiancé. It’s baffling. What’s more, it’s offensive.”

“If your kind are offended by proper planning and careful evaluation of risk, advantage, and disadvantage at every step, then we are glad to offend. Let us continue our trading.”

Esmi sat back and shook her head. “No. I’ve heard nothing that indicates you are negotiating in good faith.” She pulled the Mythic from her purse and flashed it at them.

“I think Argun will look very nice in a picture frame that hangs over my bed. He can look right out at the open sky and never see the inside of a Mind Home until we all turn to dust.”

The dwarves stood there silently for an uncomfortably long moment, and once again I had the distinct impression they were communicating with each other in some way the rest of us couldn’t hear. Then they wheeled about as one and marched off.

Esmi blinked. “They were supposed to counteroffer.”

Basil sighed and shook his head. “No, they’re making the smart move. When offer and counteroffer are too far apart, it’s best to walk away and let the other party think you’re uninterested for a while. Then once they realize no one else is buying, you come back, and suddenly that lowball offer sounds better than before.”

“I’m not taking less than a Mythic,” Esmi growled.

“Nor should you,” he assured her. “You’ll hear from them again before the evening is over, I’m sure of it.”

I stood. “I should go find Afi. She looked mad as hell as she walked off.”

“She likes you quite well,” Esmi assured me. “She asked me to approve of her dress days ago. If you can muster a kind word for once, she’ll be glad to dance with you.”

I barked a laugh. “If we dance I’ll make it even worse than it is now.” I was surprised to find that I cared. Afi was far more interesting than I’d originally given her credit for. Her focused, bookish exterior hid a girl who was capable, funny, and wickedly smart. I’d have to find a way to explain away my mother to her.

Before I could step away, there was Mother again, face flushed and breathing heavy as she led Gale back to our table. “Having a dance partner that can go heavy or light depending on the move makes for a good time.” She gave Basil’s older brother a wicked look. “The possibilities are endless.”

“I certainly haven’t exhausted them yet,” he said with a roguish grin.

“Gale, may we speak to you privately for a moment?” Basil said gravely.

“Ugh, more talk,” Mother said, rolling her eyes. “Hull, want to go find that mousy girl of yours and pitch her off a balcony?”

I gave her a quick shake of the head. “No, I need to talk to Gale too.” I spoke with a pointed stare that tried to communicate more than I was saying. Mother, quit causing problems!

“Boring,” she sniffed. Then she grabbed Gale’s ass right out in front of everyone. “Let’s exhaust those possibilities, my little lord.” She nipped his ear, and he flinched, laughing a little. “Don’t wait too long or I might get bored and find someone else to dance with.” She swayed off across the dance floor using far more hip that I’d seen her do before.

Gale watched her go appreciatively. “You have made the most interesting friends lately, little brother. Mother may not approve, but I’m of a different mind entirely.”

“She is not my friend, Gale,” Basil said. “If you are wise, you will not go after her.”

The older boy wrenched his gaze away from my mother’s retreating form, staring at Basil in disbelief. “It would take hot irons to hold me back. Did you not hear me say I intended to enjoy myself tonight? You don’t have to be a prude just because Father is, you know.”

“This has nothing to do with your father and everything to do with your well-being,” Esmi said. “Say what you wish about me and the lunacy of a match between us, but our disapproval is entirely separate on this matter. Gale, she is a demon.”

“She certainly seems like it,” Gale chuckled, looking for her through the dancing crowd.

“In the literal sense, not the lecherous one you’re meaning,” Basil told him. “She is of the demon realm and is here in disguise.”

Gale frowned at me. “I thought she was an old friend from the Lows. I could swear I heard someone say that.”

“It’s complicated,” I said. Telling Basil and Esmi my mother’s identity was one thing – I trusted them to keep it to themselves and stay safe – but Gale was another matter, especially if he wanted to tumble her behind a potted plant somewhere. “Take it from someone who knows her better than anyone else: she’s a bad idea.”

He snatched a drink from a passing waiter and downed half of it in a gulp, banging the slender glass down on the table. “Better and better. Bad ideas are the kind I want to have tonight. If I can’t have an Epic wife, I might as well gather some tasty regrets to keep me warm come winter.” He bowed to us mockingly. “Many thanks for your kind assistance, gentle folk.” He walked off with a spring in his step.

I couldn’t let him go. I sprang up from my seat and caught him by the wrist a few steps away. “Gale! This isn’t some tavern girl or lady’s maid you can trip into bed and then ignore afterward. She’s dangerous. She took ten cards from me with a single hit once.”

A glint appeared in his eye. “Ooh, powerful too? Twins help me.”

He wasn’t hearing a word I said. “She stole my soul card, Gale.”

He blinked at me, confused. “You have a soul card. Basil made a big to-do about his Lows friend reaching Common. Congratulations, I suppose, but…” He threw up his hands. “And soul cards can’t be stolen. I thought I was the one drinking too much tonight.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. The stubborn lordling was thinking with his dick and couldn’t care less for my warnings. Mother might be malicious and mercurial, but she was here on a mission of peace and alliance. That would keep her from doing any real damage. At worst, she’d slip him a sleeping draught and steal his purse. At this point, I was inclined to think he deserved it. I made one last attempt. “Don’t take any food or drink from her, and don’t let her get you alone.”

“Mmm…” Gale said, making a show of thinking about it. “I can promise you exactly none of those things.” He patted me on the cheek. “Spend a little less time with Basil, my friendly little gutter boy. He’s an old man before his time, and it’s rubbing off on you.” Off he went, looking a little unsteady on his feet.

“Let him go, Hull,” Basil called, sounding sad. “He’s a grown man. If he wants to make stupid mistakes, we can’t exactly stop him.”

“That damned woman,” I said, clutching at the back of my chair and leaning on it. “Why did she even come tonight?”

“Parents can be a trial,” Basil said, a hint of bitterness coloring his tone.

“Now may not be the moment to mention it,” Esmi said with a smile, “but my father is perfectly lovely. I was hoping he would come to the table to congratulate us, but it looks like Duke Norcobus has waylaid him on the upper level. The man is forever haranguing him about changing out the elemental street lamps for coal baskets, of all things. Dearest, let’s go pay our respects and rescue him.”

“Indeed,” Basil said, getting to his feet and offering his arm. “And afterward I simply must find Griff to thank him. He should be around here somewhere.”

“And I’d better go find Afi,” I sighed. “I have a feeling it’s going to take more than a dance to make it up to her.”