I was all alone in the card shop. Ignored, forgotten, invisible. It wasn’t a feeling I was wholly unused to. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but at that moment, I pushed through the anger and resentment and used it to my advantage. With Landrid gone and no one else in the room waiting for an appointment, I was all by my lonesome, and thus, no one was there to watch me. Or stop me.

  I was a sneaky lad. When you’re all alone with no one to care for you in all the world beyond the kindness of your neighbors and fellow townsfolk, you sometimes have to sneak about to get things done. I wasn’t a thief, not really, but I could have been one. I could have been a good one, too, but Uncle Deebo always reproached me and my brother about good morals and virtues.

  “Stealing is a bad thing,” he had always said, but usually added. “Unless you are starving or dying, and no one is willing to give you food or medicine. Then it’s fine, because survival trumps certain moral misgivings.”

  Well, there was nothing amoral about this. I wasn’t going to steal anything or do anyone harm. All I was going to do was sneak a peek in the back. Sure, I’d been back there before, but Elloy never did his magic around me, and any other time, there had always been someone around to keep me in line.

  Not now. And not when my curiosity and impatience could no longer be quelled.

  My steps were silent as I padded over the wooden floor. They could have squeaked under my weight, as I was not skinny, but I had deft feet, and I knew how to move light on my toes. Not that I thought Elloy would hear me. Already I could hear his words with the snooty rich client, and his own weight crunched and groaned on the wooden floorboards ahead. Jovial laughter resounded.

  “It was a gift from your father?” Elloy asked incredulously.

  “Indeed,” the blueblood replied.

  “That’s quite generous of him.”

  “Well, he’s a wealthy man. What can I say, he spoils me.”

  I had to keep myself from gagging with annoyance. I kept my mouth shut and any noises muffled. When I finally stood at the edge of the curtain, I allowed myself a moment to steady myself with a deep inhale before sticking my head through.

  Despite all the times I’d been in and around this place, I’d only ever been back there once, and that was at Elloy’s own invitation. That had been right after my uncle died, and I was all alone in the world. He showed me around, but that was it. I was still in my grief, so I hadn’t asked all the questions I should have, and he didn’t show me one of his card creations. I still knew how it worked, more or less. There’d been books and articles ad nauseam written on the subject, and though I wasn’t well learned or read, I could glean some things well enough.

  That said, there was a difference between reading about something and seeing it for yourself with your own two peepers.

  The room behind the curtain was small, just four walls of wood, and not a window to be found. All along the walls on tables and shelves and displays were candles on top of candles, mounds and stacks of wax that melted and shifted as their wicks burned brightly. The room was a whirl of smoke that danced and twisted around the Card Master and the blueblood, more smoke than there ought to have been even, with all of the candles.

  Standing near the center was the blueblood. He was rigid, and I could tell he was nervous. I wondered how much he’d actually done for himself. This seemed like something a servant could have done for him, but then again, it did seem like Elloy knew him and his face.

  The Card Master stood at the center in front of the man. He held a long thing cigarro stick in his lips, and the end glowed with an odd blue-green glow that was not reminiscent of any tobacco or smoking product I’d ever seen. He brought it away from his lips and released a puff of smoke that swam and joined with the rest of the haze. In his other hand was a tool I did recognize. It was a rod of cool black metal, etched with similar swirling designs as seen on most card tattoos. A creation stylus.

  He placed the cigarro back in his mouth then thrust out his free hand to the man. “You know the cost.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The blueblood nodded. “Two fragments plus my [Uncommon] fragment.”

  Master Elloy nodded.

  And my heart sank. That was more than I’d expected. All I had was my one [Common] card fragment. I didn’t have any others. Would I be turned away after all of this time? Could I pay him in regular silver or gold? I had some money saved up, which was why I was finally ready to do this, because I knew my journey would require coins.

  The snob produced the fragments from what looked like a gilded velvet coin purse. First came two silvery [Common] fragments that were even smaller than my own. Then the [Uncommon] fragment, which was probably the size of mine if not a bit bigger. The difference was that it gave off a green glow.

  The stylus shot out and snatched them out of the man’s hands with such speed that I almost jumped and blew my cover. The man flinched even though it seemed he was expecting it. Elloy had a theatrical flair about him and he did a twirl with them, letting them float in the smoke. Then he took his cigarro and let it tease the smoke, twirling it with the cards. They became more incorporeal, melding into the haze all around them. I wondered if the cigarro was just for show or if it played a hand in this whole process.

  I wasn’t sure the exact reasons why it was this way, but I knew enough about cards and their making to know that smoke played a part in it. Something about the realm of monsters beyond the Fissures being a realm of smoke and magic and that the stylus would bend and infuse the smoke with magic that allowed the creation of a card. It would join with the fragments and form something new.

  At least, that’s what the books said.

  I’d never seen the process done before.

  Elloy’s mouth moved, his beard and whiskers trembling with the movement, but I couldn’t make out exactly what he was chanting because he was whispering. The words I could hear were foreign to me. They were words of magic, words from the realm of monsters. They were commands, words of binding and of power, and each one seemed to infuse the smoke with more and more power, until I could feel the charge of magic in the air. The hairs on my arms and neck stuck out straight.

  The Card Master’s arms moved and danced, weaving a tapestry in the very air. He waved his hands with grace and confidence, and finally, he brought the fragments together like puzzle pieces, each one collecting smoke as he did so. They coalesced together, growing brighter and greener, until finally the job was done, and a fully formed card floated between the two men.

  The air was hot, thick with humidity and formless magic. It made me sweat, made my skin itch like being too close to a fire. But I didn’t move. I was transfixed.

  Elloy guided the card into the blueblood’s gloved hands. I couldn’t see what card it was. The back was to me, and it held the same foreign, swirling interlocking pattern that most cards had on their backs, save for the green aura of it.

  “And there you have it,” Master Elloy announced, flourishing his arms above his head, stylus and hands parting the smoke before he took a bow.

  “Magnificent as always, Elloy. Always a pleasure to witness your work.”

  Elloy smiled, nodded, and took a long drag on his cigarro before exhaling a huge cloud. “Was that what you hoped for?”

  The blueblood turned the card around and studied it, but from this angle, I still couldn’t make out what it was. He hemmed and hawed. Then shrugged. “I’m not sure. I might keep it. But if not, I have a well-connected card trader within the family that will be more than happy to take my business.”

  “Merriweather, right?”

  The blueblood put a hand to his chest, but it was in mock shock, not real. “Our little secret is out, but I suppose that’s how it must be. Not much of a trader if people don’t know you and don’t trade with you.”

  “Precisely,” said Elloy. “Plus, as a smith, I need to be connected to the traders in the area. It’d be bad business not to be, and I’m not in the business of letting my cards get sold on the black market.”

  “I understand precisely, my good man. Now, I must be on my way. I have an appointment and a train to catch. A pleasure, as always.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  The swanky bastard pivoted on his heels as he pocketed his new [Uncommon] card with a smirk and started for the curtain—and for me. I stifled a curse and immediately ducked out of the way. There was no time for me to run back to where I’d been seated at the front by the desk, and they’d hear my boots making the floorboards groan. I was light on my feet when I was sneaking, but there was no way I could move that fast without noise.

  All I could do was hope and pray. I pressed myself against the wall beside the entry and made myself as flat as possible. I held my breath and hoped my heart wasn’t as loud to others as it seemed to me.

  The curtain was thrown open, and it fluttered over my face and snagged on one of my shirt buttons. It left me with one eye clear, which allowed me to see the blueblood stride out with his cane, making a rhythm with his steps. He began to hum a tune I couldn’t identify. He paused by the desk when he saw neither Landrid nor me there, but that didn’t seem to bother him because he immediately continued on his way.

  In a burst of blazing light, he strode into the sunny day and was gone. I stood there a moment longer, not daring to move or even breathe.

  A full minute probably went by before I finally allowed myself to exhale. That was close!

  “Griff? Get on in here, boy. I know you’ve been lurkin’ out there this whole time,” called the powerful voice of the Card Master.

  I cursed, still a whisper. I’d been had. My previous excitement had abandoned me, and all I was left with was dread.