He combed through his hair with his hands, and Eva’s eyes betrayed her by flitting to his abs. The sculpted quality of them.
“You don’t remember? How often do you drink rum, anyway?”
Eva cleared her throat. The room steamed, or maybe it was just her. “My family prefers anise. But—I’ve never been a heavy drinker.”
Javier smiled as he buttoned his shirt up, then slipped on his vest. “Just as well. Alcohol addles the mind. I apologize if I forced too much on you.”
“It wasn’t forced,” she said honestly. At that moment, all Eva sought was the belly-deep pleasure of making her own choices （or mistakes） and living her own moment without a care for what her family could do or think. In her mouth the bitter rum had tasted of freedom.
She wished she had the nerve to hold his gaze and inquire why he’d gotten them two rooms. For during their drinking, she had distinctly noted how it could only be the buttering up for what would come after. A wicked doubt had stung her then, hinting he also needed the rum to endure her. But she liked that they hadn’t done anything more. It only deepened the puzzle that he was.
“You drank quite a lot, too.” She remembered how his laughter had been additive. The words spurred some of it again.
“Of course. I had to celebrate the beginning of something great.”
Them.
It was a wonder, how she’d felt so ugly and heavy and inconsequential before him, yet he managed to wash all of it away with a simple notion. She left the bed, and it creaked again. “So what’s next?”
“Rahmagut’s Claw will finish ripping the sky three weeks from now. Before that happens, we have to collect the ninth dama and bring her to the site of the offering: Tierra’e Sol.”
“That is a lot—to take in.”
He flashed her a smile. In the dimness of twilight, Javier’s eyes looked black, narrowed and cunning.
“Who is the ninth dama? Where do we find her?”
“We have the advantage of knowing exactly where she is going because she told me. That’s how we find her.”
“You know a lot about her.” Eva allowed her gaze to surf his defined nose and thin lips. It didn’t feel out of place to take him in, and maybe she was silly for thinking so. She had a right to, as his wife.
“The ninth dama is Brother’s daughter.”
There was distance in his choice of words. Was this the way he coped with using his niece as a moving piece of his conquest?
“We got in a row the last I saw her, the morning I left for the wedding. She’s convinced she’ll be able to stop the invocation.” His hand drifted up to take gentle hold of a brown curl hanging by Eva’s jaw. The side of his palm grazed her skin for fractions of a moment. “Actually, I owe so much to you. Your letters and interest in me. It was the jolt I needed to seize this opportunity.”
“You wouldn’t have done it otherwise?”
He paced the room, his hands finding his hair again. “I deserve better than to be Brother’s errand boy,” he hissed. “I brought in the damas—me and that nozariel pet his witch keeps in the house. I should be the one reaping the benefits of having Rahmagut’s favor. But I can’t do it alone and without certain guarantees.”
Eva only frowned. She couldn’t fathom what she would have to offer.
“Let us go for supper,” he said, vetoing the opportunity for more questions, and headed out the door.
Following like a puppy, she said, “I’m ready to learn more. I need to be ready for the things ahead. You said it yourself: There are expectations I have to meet. And I want to know what it’s like to be a true valco, without feeling like I have to hold back because of what my family would think or say.” She could only imagine his magical prowess as the son of Feleva ?guila and as a nobleman of Sadul Fuerte. He had a lifetime of experience ahead of her.
The sound of someone calling for the inn’s attention came up to the hallway. Eva ignored it as she said, “I know we don’t have a lot of time. I’ll do my best.” She followed him to the stairs. “I’m behind, but I’m a quick learner. It was my grandmother—she forbade me from being any good at geomancia, but I learned a couple of things behind her back.” Of this, Eva was mighty proud.
Javier was half listening to her, his attention on the floor below. “How idiotic. Geomancia is what valcos are best at.”
“Can we start tonight?”
He was too distracted watching the men waltzing through the inn to reply.
A ball of lead weighed on Eva’s belly when she recognized the faces downstairs. The Calamity arbiter fussed at the nozariel attendants, demanding to see “the cheater.”
Something horrible and rotten unfurled in Eva’s belly. She couldn’t believe they were talking about her. How could they know what she had done?
“Come out, you filthy half-breed! Or my men will beat you bloody before handing you to the authorities!” the arbiter called out, zigzagging through tables while the three heavy men from the game trailed him.
“What authorities?” A potbellied man emerged from one of the back doors, chest and belly shielded by a greased apron. “Pray tell, what authorities does El Carmín have?”
With that sly smile, the arbiter said, “Aye, I guess we’ll just have to pretend we are the authorities. Hand that cheating valco over, and we’ll deal with her swiftly—no one needs to get hurt. See it as our doing the town a service.”
The inn broke out in murmurs of confusion and people asking for answers. A cowardly voice took residence in the back of Eva’s mind. It told her to run up the stairs—to hide behind the door of her room. She fought it as she took one steady step after another behind Javier. She wasn’t the valco to run away from belligerent humans, not anymore.
The arbiter’s eyes fell on the antlers crowning Javier. He saw Eva, and his face turned red. “Look who it is: the cheaters.”
“What right does a Calamity arbiter have in calling anyone a cheater? The word was created to suit people like you,” Javier said, his voice demanding the attention of the inn patrons.
Every step down the stairs felt heavy, like Eva was suddenly the weight of a cow. She pushed through, thinking of her grandmother and of how all Galeno cowered before her. Eva needed to be like that—not weak like her mom.
“You were looking for me, and you’ve found me. Now, what do you want?” Eva asked coolly as she stood beside Javier, shoulder to shoulder, antler to antler. She brushed her curly bangs back, arching an eyebrow mockingly.
“You manipulated my game with a spell.” The arbiter thrust his cane in her direction accusingly. “Where’s the duskling wretch you were in cahoots with?” His cane surfed the tense inn, scouring for the server who had won all the escudos. The man was smart, for taking the gold and never returning.
“Where’s your proof? My only companion here is my husband.” The label was like honey on her tongue: heavy and sticky, new and sweet for the future. She avoided glancing at Javier, not ready to see his reaction to it.
The arbiter’s face twitched in poorly contained rage. He pointed at one of his men. “I have a watcher in the crowd who spots cheaters.” The man had a glow of red about his skin, the sign of a spell enhancing his body. “With bismuto he can see when there’s a cheat in the crowd.”