LEVI
This was Levi’s last night to live, and he hadn’t even gotten a kiss goodbye.
The black silky hemline of Enne’s dress disappeared into the crowd, and he cursed under his breath. He wouldn’t let her do this.
He started pushing through the Luckluster patrons to follow her, but was quickly blocked by two of Sedric’s men. As Levi tried to slip past, he stumbled over one of their canes.
“Watch it!” one of the men said, catching Levi by the arm. His front tooth glinted gold.
Something sharp stabbed Levi in the neck. He yelped, then felt his body go slack. Another arm slid around his middle, hoisting him up. Levi fought to move, tried to lift his head to search for Enne’s black dress, but he was paralyzed. Even his mind was going numb.
Someone nearby gasped.
“He’s just drunk,” a voice said. “Real lightweight, this one.”
All at once, the red lights went dark.
* * *
Levi woke sitting against a stone pillar, his hands tied behind him, an ache in his lower stomach. A man stood over him, presumably having just kicked him awake. He was well over six feet tall and half as wide. Levi moaned and pulled at the ropes binding him to the pillar, but they only scratched his wrists.
“Rise and shine,” his captor said. A hint of gold flashed as he smiled, revealing teeth that were pointed like a shark, and Levi realized it was the same man from Luckluster. “Almost thought you’d miss the party. That would’ve been a right shame.”
One light bulb dangled above them, and from the looks of the room, they were in a basement. The cold cement walls reeked of mold, and a distant laughter echoed from a wooden staircase that led upstairs.
“Where am I?”
“The House of Shadows.”
Levi’s skin crawled. So this was the haunted mansion where the Phoenix Club played the Shadow Game. The haunted part, he reminded himself, was just a superstition. Levi had imagined this place as more...luxurious, decked out with black velvet and silver opulence. But his surroundings looked much like the basement of any shambled home in Olde Town.
It took him a moment to remember he was here to die. That he hadn’t been able to stop Enne from disappearing into the crowd at Luckluster. He swallowed down a wave of panic. Where was she now?
“Now, don’t worry,” Shark said. “I got your jacket and hat over there with your invitation.” He nodded to a pile of Levi’s belongings a few feet away. His pistol and the Shadow Card gleamed on top.
“That’s generous of you.”
“Don’t be smart. I’m here to prepare you for the Game, but I’ve been told not to touch your pretty face.” Shark leaned down to examine Levi’s black eye. “You’re already fairly roughed up. Where’ve you been hurt?”
“My right leg,” Levi said. “And a broken rib.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to find some new spots, then.”
Levi braced himself as Shark grabbed beneath his arms and lifted him like a bag of straw.
“It’s a lot easier if you stand up,” he said, then threw a staggering punch at Levi’s shoulder. It dislocated with a pop.
Levi shouted and fell forward, caught by the ropes tying him to the pillar. Every breath he took ached. The man raised his enormous boot and kicked Levi’s hip bone—not hard enough to fracture, but definitely enough to bruise.
Shark kicked him once in each shin as Levi sputtered.
“Nothing personal, you know. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s...Levi,” he breathed.
Shark punched his chest, forcing the air out of him and hurting his ribs enough to make Levi scream. The force of it sent his body colliding with the pole behind him.
“I didn’t say I wanted your name.”
His fist slammed into Levi’s left thigh.
Levi had reached the point where he felt himself retreating. It was an old, familiar feeling, of curling into that cold place in his mind where the aches of his body and heart couldn’t follow. Though the place was meant for comfort and self-preservation, it had its costs: each time he returned there, he left pieces of himself behind, pieces he sometimes never found again.
When he’d left home, he thought he’d left this place behind him, as well.
He leaned unsteadily against the pillar and concentrated on reality. On the pain all over. On the dim overhead light. On the smell of mold and the taste of blood.
The final blow got him in the side of the neck. Levi’s head knocked against the pillar. He slumped over and puked—for the second time that night. Even as he vomited whatever remained in his stomach, he was both in the basement and that somewhere else. Here and not here.
When Levi finished retching, Shark cut the rope binding him. “Don’t bother running. You know you won’t get far.”
Levi didn’t think he could run at all if he tried. His hands fell limply to his side, and Shark handed him his suit jacket and hat. Levi took it with dread, knowing it meant the night’s festivities were about to begin.
“Now let me get a look at you.” Shark’s eyes ran up and own Levi’s body. “Oh—my mistake.” Before Levi could brace himself, Shark put two hands on his shoulder and shoved it back into its socket. Levi screamed and staggered back.
“I’ll be keeping this gun of yours.” Shark pocketed the pistol. “But here’s your invitation.” He slipped the Shadow Card into Levi’s breast pocket and patted it with a malicious grin. “Look sharp. Now we go upstairs. That’s where the fun is.”
Fun for him, maybe. The only thing waiting for Levi was death.
Shark pushed him up the stairs, and Levi’s bones ached with each step, so painful he needed to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. A fog of cigar smoke greeted them at the landing, and they entered a dark room with all black furniture that matched Levi’s original vision for the House of Shadows. Two men lay on couches in the corner, too transfixed by the women in front of them to notice Levi and his captor. The women giggled teasingly and played with their transparent slips, their legs miles long in silver shoes with heels like razors.
“You know,” Levi wheezed, “this isn’t as bad as I thought.”
Shark grunted and shoved him up another flight of stairs.
“Is Sedric Torren here?” Levi asked, though he doubted that Shark had news about whatever had happened to Sedric and Enne.
“Never knew him to miss a party,” he replied.
Each time Levi heaved one leg painfully in front of the other, he thought, this is one of my last steps. He knew he should feel terrified—earlier, he had. But now that he was here, the House of Shadows felt too surreal to warrant anything but numbness. Maybe the effects of the sedative hadn’t fully worn off. Maybe he was still in that someplace else, trying to protect himself from reality.
They entered his execution room.
Ten people sat around a long felt-topped table, and others spectated from chaises in the room’s corners. Their skin had a gray cast to it, like the skin of a peach gone shriveled and moldy, and it was impossible to guess their ages. They looked neither young nor old, neither alive nor dead. They stared at Levi with empty eyes, their expressions still. All that moved was the shadows across their faces, flickering in the light of the metal candelabra.
The black-and-silver-striped walls made Levi feel as though he were entering a cage.
“Our first guest has finally arrived,” one man said. His face was long, and his chin hooked outward into a point. His mostly gray hair was parted down the center, sharpening his severe widow’s peak. Levi had seen his picture before, of course, but the black-and-white newspapers failed to convey that Chancellor Malcolm Semper was equally gray-cast and haunting in person.
Shark left, and the thump thump of his feet on the stairs echoed around the room. Levi scanned the faces of the Phoenix Club for Sedric, but none of them were him.
“Levi Glaisyer, why don’t you take a seat?” Semper gestured to the chair beside him.
“Where’s Sedric?” Levi asked.
“Mr. Torren isn’t a member of the Phoenix Club, so he doesn’t participate in our Game.”
Levi limped to his chair and settled into the rigid leather seat. Was this where Alfero had sat when she died? Or Gabrielle Dondelair when she won?
The only remaining empty chair was directly across from him.
“We will explain the rules once our final guest arrives,” Semper said.
So Levi didn’t even warrant a solo execution. He wondered who else the Phoenix Club had decided to play with tonight.
“We weren’t expecting another player,” said a woman Levi recognized as Senator Josephine Fenice. Her wild silver hair draped across her body down to her waist. She was Semper’s right hand and the woman who personally oversaw the execution of the previous Mizer royal family of New Reynes—even the children.
“I received a last-minute message,” Semper explained. “Mr. Torren feels he has more to offer us. He’s very eager to please.”
Levi’s heart stuttered at the mention of Sedric. What had happened between him and Enne? Did she finish what she’d come to do?
“Who is the player?” Fenice asked.
“The message didn’t say,” Semper answered. “Only to expect him here at two.”
Levi had little idea of the time, only a guess that it was almost midnight. He heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind, counting down to the tenth day, counting down to his end. He tried to push away his concern over Enne. He needed all his concentration.
Once upon a time, Gabrielle Dondelair had won this Game. He needed to forget about all the legends, all the nightmares. The Shadow Game was a game like any other; there were winners, and there were losers. He wasn’t helpless. He wasn’t finished. He needed to remind himself who he was.
If anyone in this city had a chance of outplaying unbeatable odds, it was the Iron Lord.