(Three parts. 4500 words.)
One
Boras opened his eyes, teeth bared in rage. The bloody dice. Again.
“I told you to cut it out,” he hissed. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Nauseating laughter came from his cellmate below. The grimy man slept on the floor, claiming the hard surface led to better rolls. “And I told you that magic dice do not track time,” he chuckled in response. “They asked if I wanted to play … and I said yes!”
Boras growled as the dice clattered once again. To think, he had thought relocation would bring opportunity to escape. In an unfortunate twist, the chance event would almost certainly lead to his end as killing his deranged cellmate would earn him a swift trip to the gallows. Although at this point, death would come as a welcome relief.
At a sudden idea, the sleep-deprived prisoner grinned in the darkness. “We should play a game together, my friend. If I win, I get to keep the dice.”
“I’m already playing a game.”
“When will you be finished?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” his infuriating cellmate questioned. “When I win!”
“Can I join you?” Boras swung his long legs over the edge of his slab and stood to a chorus of creaking joints. Internment had long since sapped his muscles of strength.
“Hm. I don’t see why not! The more the merrier!”
“What are the rules?”
“Simple,” his cellmate snickered. “Once the dice initiate the game, all you have to do is make a wish and roll. If you roll doubles, your wish comes true!”
Boras glanced out the barred window of their shared cell. Moonlight shone upon the massive walls enclosing the prison. Even in the dead of night, uniformed soldiers made their rounds. It seemed that in the capital such menial duties were fulfilled without fail.
“I thought you wanted to play!”
Turning, Boras met the crazed eyes of the other man. “Of course. Is it my turn?”
“Did you hear the voice of the dice?”
Boras shook his head.
“Not yet it seems,” his cellmate muttered, casting the dice. The result brought forth a string of curses from his pale lips. “I was certain that roll would be the one!”
“What is it you’re wishing for?” Boras asked. His anger had diminished and been replaced by weary amusement. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I wished to be set free of course!” The dice rolled. The exasperated man shook his head and retrieved them from the moldy stone. “I had another life once … before this one. I think I may have even had a wife. If only I could remember!”
“Why don’t you wish for your memories to return?”
The man snarled after discovering the result of his latest roll. “That was not my wish!”
“And how did you … get these dice?” Boras questioned.
The man’s ensuing howl echoed throughout the prison. Unfazed, he scampered to retrieve the dice and rolled again. “From the man you replaced of course. He taught me the rules. Didn’t believe him at first … at least I don’t think I did. However, that was a long time ago. At least a few days.”
Boras raised a brow. “Are there other rules?”
“Of course! Those I already told you and one more.” The deranged man paused to roll. “If you manage to win the game, you must pass along the dice to another person. Those are the rules!”
Boras continued to play along. “Why give up a set of magic dice after only one wish?”
“Because it’s one of the rules!”
Stifling a yawn, Boras watched the ensuing roll. Outside, the sun was near to rising, meaning the man had been casting the dice for hours. The revelation caused Boras to frown in disbelief. The madman should have rolled doubles long ago. There were only so many possibilities.
On cue, his cellmate leapt to feet and unleashed a triumphant cry. “I’ve won!”
Boras dropped to a knee and examined the results. Two threes. Turning, he found his cellmate shaking the bars of their cell, dancing with excitement. The man had all but forgotten the dice. Boras claimed the trinkets and returned to his bed.
At last, the nightmare was over.
The sound of footsteps denied Boras a last chance at sleep. With heavy eyes, he watched as a pair of armored guards unlocked the cell door and, after a brief exchange, led his cellmate away.
“Wait,” Boras called. “Why does he get to go free?”
One of the guards shrugged. “Orders.”
Boras removed the dice from his pocket and raised them to the fledgling light. There was nothing remarkable about the set. Old and weathered wood, somewhat coated by chipped paint. However, they seemed to have retained their balance. Another oddity.
A mischievous voice surprised him. “Would you like to play, Boras?”
The prisoner leapt to his feet in shock. Was insanity contagious?
“Would you like to play?” the voice asked again. “Make a wish and roll.”
Boras laughed. “I wish to be a free man as well.”
He cast the dice.
Moments later, a guard arrived.
“You’re free to go,” the guard said. “Follow me to the gate.”
Boras couldn’t believe his luck. He picked up the pair of dice, debating if he should leave them behind in accordance with the rules of the game. Then, with a wry grin, he closed his fist around the set and exited his cell. His smile grew as he neared the prison’s exit.
Only a fool would throw away a pair of enchanted dice.
Two
Boras stared at the well-worn dice, wondering if it had all been coincidence. Raising a tankard of stolen ale to his dry lips, he studied the rowdy common room in thought. No. He would not have been freed from prison for years yet. In fact, he had not been certain he would live to see the day.
He returned his weary gaze to the dice. The voice had yet to return. He wondered why, if the enchanted objects truly followed the rule his former cellmate had articulated.
If you manage to win the game, you must pass along the dice to another…
Savoring his ale, Boras scouted the drunken occupants of the tavern. The solution was obvious. He would have to temporarily surrender the dice. Once his chosen receiver had been granted a wish, he would reclaim the magical items by whatever means necessary.
A scant hundred yards away from the prison in the bowels of the capital, it was unlikely any of the patrons would prove trustworthy. Dawn had arrived, meaning those still standing were at their wit’s end, looking to make rash and violent decisions. Advertising a pair of dice that granted wishes would likely leave him bleeding out in a shit-filled alley between cramped buildings.
He needed someone naïve, someone he could easily manipulate. He needed…
His deranged cellmate. A man who already proven his willingness to follow the rules of the dice. A man who had already revealed his intended second wish. More importantly, if his cellmate was granted a second wish, it would prove that Boras could receive another as well. It was the perfect solution.
Of course, finding a madman in a city of thousands wouldn’t be easy.
Boras tore his gaze from the dice as a familiar face took the empty seat across from him. “I should have guessed you were already here,” he mused, concealing his inner elation.
The other man grinned. “I see you wished for your freedom as well, Boras. What better way to celebrate than with ale and whores?” He raised his tankard. An empty tankard. “Although … that sort of thing requires coin of which I have none!”
Boras observed the haggard man for a long moment. Fortunately, the absence of the dice had not restored the man’s sanity. He made for an easy mark.
“I never got your name, friend,” Boras remarked, completing the toast. He wasn’t sure where his former cellmate had learned his. However, there was little point in asking.
The man turned up his tankard and tapped the underside in an attempt to salvage whatever remnants of ale remained. Presently, he slammed the tankard on the table and belched. “The guards called me Trey. Although, I’m not sure why. I asked the kind men at the gate in hopes of discovering a clue about my previous life, but they only laughed. I admit – it is my fault. Everyone should remember their life on the outside after all!”
“You claimed that would be your second wish.”
Trey nodded feverishly. “Alas, I’m certain you’ve already passed on the dice by now. Gods only know what foul fate would befall a person who defies the rules.”
Slowly, Boras unclenched his fist to reveal the dice. “You were right. The voice has not spoken to me since granting my wish. I remembered what you said in our cell about rediscovering your life and couldn’t think of a better person to pass the dice on to next. I’ve been looking for you all night. Everyone deserves a proper second chance after all.”
“Seriously, Boras? Do you really mean it?” Trey placed his hand over his heart as color flooded his sunken cheeks. “No one has ever done something like this for me before … at least that I can remember. I was rather certain that you despised me.”
Boras forced a reassuring smile. “How could I hate the man that set me free?” He dropped the dice on the table and gestured to them with an open hand. “Let’s reunite you with your family, my friend.” “I always knew you were a true sentimental at heart!” Trey exclaimed. With surprising speed, he snatched the dice from the table, brought them before his face, and inhaled sharply. A deranged smile spread across his pale features. “The voice speaks! How will I ever repay you?”
*
Boras trailed Trey through a filthy alleyway. The dice had not been as direct in granting the madman’s second wish. Fortunately, all that mattered was that a second wish had been made. Once again, Boras clutched the dice tightly in his fist, awaiting the return of their voice.
“You sure this is the way?” Boras asked as the other man diverted down another, darker passageway that delved deeper into the heart of the city. “What exactly did the dice tell you?”
A pace ahead, Trey clapped his hands together in excitement. “To find the answer I seek, I must follow my heart! This is much more exciting than the first wish. The game has evolved!”
Boras scratched his unruly beard in thought. Unfortunately, the madman was right. He would need to better understand the game before making his second wish. To begin, he would follow his former cellmate until his second wish had been unquestionably fulfilled.
“What was your wish exactly? How did you phrase it?”
“I already told you, my friend. I wished to discover the life I have lost.”
Boras muttered to himself as he navigated between piles of steaming waste. He had asked a variation of the same questions thrice before. Trey provided the same response each time. The difference between the two wishes was obvious. Trey’s first wish had been direct; his second had been … ambiguous. Wording was certainly important.
Boras checked on the dice in his hand. It seemed they would not speak to him until Trey’s wish had been granted. Another complexity of the game.
“What was your life like before?” the madman asked as they continued their trek through the stream of sewage. “How did such a noble man end up in prison with a fool like me?”
“I stole something,” Boras admitted. He didn’t see a point in lying to the delusional man. “Not the first thing I’d ever stolen. But on that night, I was caught.”
“A thief?” Trey halted abruptly and turned to face him with wide eyes. “Do you work alone? If not, you could wish to reunite with your crew! That would make for a delightful second wish!”
Boras shook his head. “That was years ago. Everyone is captured, dead, or far away from here.”
“But that’s the beauty of the game! Anything is possible!”
Boras tightened his grip on the dice. He would never waste a wish on those who had betrayed him.
Sudden movement by the madman startled Boras. Before he could react, Trey pushed him aside and sprinted back in the direction from which they had come. On malnourished legs, Boris rose and attempted to chase down his companion, only to quickly realize he could not keep pace. Gasping for air, he followed Trey’s trail at a labored pace.
Eventually, Boras emerged from the labyrinth of alleyways into a quiet street. His keen eyes quickly located the disheveled figure of Trey who stood on a stone stoop bearing a crazed grin.
“This is it, my friend!” Trey exclaimed without turning around. “This is my home!” Without a further word, he knocked twice on the door and took a pronounced step back.
The door opened, and a woman emerged from within. She studied the grimy man for a long moment before throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. On her heels emerged a trio of children who proceeded to wrap themselves around the legs of the madman.
Boras approached slowly. “So, you had a family after all.”
The man who turned to face him no longer appeared to be mad. “Yes, my friend. I remember everything.” He now spoke in an elegant tone, one with traces of nobility. “You have my eternal gratitude, Boras.”
“Do you wish to continue playing our game?”
Trey shook his head. “I no longer have need for wishes. Perhaps you would like to come inside for dinner? This is only possible because of you after all.”
“No thank you,” Boras sighed. “See to your family.”
After Trey and his family had retreated within, the thief sat on the stoop and waited.
At last, the voice returned. “Would you like to play, Boras?”
Boras nodded.
“Make a wish and roll.”
Boras obliged. “I wish for the ability to make consecutive wishes.”
“That wish is against the rules. Make another wish and roll.”
The thief grumbled. It had been a worth a shot. His next wish was now obvious, one made in the name of necessity.
“I wish for the perfect partner to play this game.”
An ambiguous wish, but there wasn’t much option. To continue playing, he needed someone he could trust with the dice. No matter what, he couldn’t lose them.
As Boras stepped from the stoop, a gust of wind slapped a flyer to his face. The thief removed it and slowly sounded out the advertisement. With a manic laugh, he closed his fist tightly around the set of dice and began to walk once again.
Three
Thieving had always come easy to Boras.
He had grown up orphaned on the streets of a city not unlike the capital. Hours after reuniting the madman with his family, he had lifted a bathhouse token from an unsuspecting merchant and procured a new set of clothing. A borrowed knife had trimmed his unruly beard and shorn his ruined locks. A stolen vial of black dye had further refined his appearance.
Boras took pride in his ability to establish a new persona, to shed unwanted skin. The man who leisurely approached the Upper City gate was let through without question. Of course, it was too early to speak to anyone at length, to establish a name and reputable backstory. First, he would need to survey the landscape and, most importantly, obtain an invitation to the fete advertised on the flyer.
As the sun began its descent, Boras eyed the manor from an establishment across the street. An embroidered jacket of the latest fashion adorned his shoulders, and the purse at his waist bulged with coin. He ate feverishly with his free hand while the other strangled the magic dice. The feeling of their wooden corners digging into his calloused hand was comforting.
“Are you on the guest list? You can never tell since they insist on disbursing those damned flyers everywhere … but you certainly have the right look.”
Boras had heard the Innkeep approach. The hours the thief had spent watching the manor had proven educational, providing needed insight into the ever-shifting mannerisms of nobility. It had been nearly a decade since he was last among such haughty company.
“Is it that obvious?” Boras smiled as the stout woman took the chair across from him. He ran a hand through his dyed hair and chuckled. “I’m afraid I’ve arrived a day early. I trust you can keep this secret between us. A true man of taste always arrives exactly on time.”
The Innkeep nodded in agreement. “No problem at all, Mr. Robinson.” She leaned across the table and added in a whisper, “I have already booked rooms for three guests. For a reasonable price, you are welcome to my last remaining bed.”
Boras fished a substantial sum of coin from his purse and placed it on the table. The woman’s eyes widened as the metal glimmered in the light of the setting sun. “A tip for your discretion,” Boras explained in a playful tone. “And perhaps for any information about those other guests…”
*
Boras awoke with a start. His hand was empty. Heart racing, he slid from the feather bed, careful not to disturb his well-compensated company, and nearly tore apart his discarded clothing. At last, he removed the dice from his jacket pocket and sighed in relief.
To misplace such a valuable asset would have been catastrophic. No, beyond it. His plans had only just begun. Clutching the dice in his hand, he dressed in the darkness and collected his steadily-increasing list of belongings.
Then, with the upmost care, he crept past the slumbering figure of the Innkeep and lifted the ring of room keys from her nightstand. Weathered floorboards creaked as Boras slipped from the room and entered that of the nearest guest.
In a rather amusing display, the nobleman had laid out his ensemble the night before and set his invitation atop the pristine pile of clothing. Boras pocketed the invitation, returned the keys to the Innkeep, and left before the sun had risen.
Dice firmly in hand, Boras spent the morning combing the Upper City for his remaining needs. A large blade with an ornate handle to wear openly. A pair of small knives to hide upon his figure when the aforementioned blade was confiscated at the manor’s entrance. Last of all, Boras procured a leather cord with a small pouch at the end to secure the magic dice.
He arrived on the opposite side of the manor from the inn where he had spent the previous night exactly a quarter hour after the fete had started. His invitation was accepted by the gracious gatekeeper without question. An unassuming servant placed a flute of champagne in his waiting hand a pace before the glossy door. Taking a last look at his chosen appearance in a conveniently placed mirror, Boras fingered the dice hidden beneath his lace shirt and entered the party.
A familiar rattle brought Boras to one of the half-dozen tables arranged inside the lavish common room. Already, stacks of coin were exchanging hands. Boras made certain to introduce himself under his assumed name and proceeded to play a few innocuous rounds.
Only … the game meant nothing. He found himself unable to garner satisfaction from a positive result, even as his alleged companions cheered and his purse bulged from his winnings. No. All Boras could think of was his second wish, of when it would finally come true.
As the party reached its peak, Boras slithered away from the dice table and perused the crowded room, his fortune growing as he worked to discern the whereabouts of his promised partner.
Fortunately, little in society had changed during his time behind bars. With only a few more wishes, he would be able to establish himself as an influential figure within the kingdom. Only then, would he seek his revenge.
Oddly enough, Boras thought of his deranged cellmate. A man who had seemingly solved the mystery of life in a mere two wishes. A man who had forsaken the dice based on principle, who had warned Boras the dangers of abusing the enticing objects.
A good partner … but not a perfect one. Trey’s family had already abandoned him once, and they would again. He had not wished to be cured from his insanity, making an eventual relapse certain. It was not in such a simple man’s nature to reach the social heights necessary to find lasting satisfaction.
Boras checked the dice hanging from his neck as he conversed with a group of noblewomen. He eyed the rings on their fingers, the gold hanging from their necks, the gemstones dangling from their ears. There was a fortune to be made at such an exclusive fete, if one desired such things.
Instead, Boras thought only of his triumphs to come, of his plan to extract revenge on those who had betrayed him. He had outsmarted the dice and placed them forever his service. Now, there was no one that could stop him.
So transfixed on wishes was his mind, that he hardly noticed the light touch of a woman’s hand, the phantom tug as she lifted the heavy purse from his belt. Boras played the fool, laughing profusely before excusing himself to conduct a proper pursuit.
It was nearly impossible to contain his elation. Certainly, a person daring enough to steal from him was the answer to his second wish.
He found the woman on a marble balcony that protruded from one of the many upstairs rooms. Dark hair cascaded down her back, ending in neat curls. Her dress was of the latest fashion but not colored or accented enough to draw copious attention. No. This woman maintained a certain understated appearance that marked her as a fellow thief.
“You have something that belongs to me,” he mused, taking a place on the railing beside her. With an easy smile, he extended the drink he had brought in offering.
The woman sipped at the champagne and studied him over the rim of the glass. “Something that belongs to you? I am sure there are many across the city who would dispute such a claim.” With grace, she retrieved the purse concealed on her figure and extended it in his direction … only to pull it back just as Boras reached for it.
“I decided to attend this fete at the last moment,” she said. “A chance discovery during my latest job. Unfortunately, I will soon have to leave. One of the Lady’s valets recognized me. That is the reason I borrowed your coin. I wish to leave this city as soon as possible.”
Boras studied the woman, listened intently to her every word. He was certain she was the one he had been intended to meet. “Have you ever considered the possibility that you were meant to be here, that you discovered the invitation for good reason?”
“You’re asking if I believe in fate?”
Boras smiled. “Not fate, my friend. Magic.”
*
The woman, whose name was Tessa, studied the wooden dice in Boras’ hand. They had left the fete in the early afternoon, narrowly avoided a group of the city guard on their way to make a certain arrest, and taken shelter in a rather inauspicious dockside inn.
Tessa had listened closely to his version of events. Her amused expression had gradually shifted to one of hunger. It was clear she believed him, that she possessed her own reasons to use the dice.
Boras had offered her a deal. One he was certain he could talk her into accepting. The perfect partner would play the game by his rules after all.
“Have you tried to wish for consecutive wishes?” Tessa questioned as they watched the busy docks.
Boras nodded. “Against the rules.”
“And just how many wishes will you need get your revenge on those who have wronged you? It sounds as if your failed job was rather involved.”
“What does it matter how many?” Boras frowned. “You will get one wish for every wish I make.”
“And then what? You walk away with the magical dice and leave me behind?”
“Exactly. By then, you will have had more than enough wishes to satisfy your needs.” Boras tightened the grip on the dice in his hand. The pouch around his neck had not proven secure enough. He could not lose the set. He needed the dice. “Perhaps one day I shall seek you out again.”
“And what of this former cellmate of yours?” Tessa mused. “You speak as if the dice cured him of his illness, that his wishes restored meaning to his life. Do you not think that possible for yourself? Can a thief never truly be satisfied?”
Boras groped the dice, dismissing the woman’s invasive question. What could she possibly know about his dice? She had yet to make her first wish! Only a fool would ever give up such an incredible advantage over the world!
“The dice belong to me,” he said at last. “Do we have a deal or not?”
Tessa smiled. “Of course. As agreed, my first wish will be to get us safely out of the city. Our descriptions are everywhere by now seeing as we’ve ruined such an important fete.”
Boras matched the woman’s expression. She was indeed the perfect partner. One who understood the benefits of playing the game. One who would keep the secret of the dice between them. One who would never see his eventual betrayal coming.
After all, no game lasted forever.
*
From the stern of an unsuspecting ship, the Lady of Luck observed the commotion on the docks. Dozens of guards had subdued a dangerous and violent thief who had been freed due to a clerical error. He would presumably be hung for his latest string of crimes.
Certainly, he would betray the identity of his partner to reduce his sentence, however, the woman named Tessa would never be found – in fact, she had never existed at all.
The Lady looked at the ancient dice in her hand and sighed. The ego of mortals truly held no bounds. Conscripting a kindred spirit into a contract meant to monopolize the power of the dice was unquestionably against the rules. With such a selfish action, the somewhat clever thief had ruined one of her favored and longest running games.
As the city faded into the distance, the Lady disabled the enchantment and tossed the dice into the murky water. In the grand scheme of things, the ending of this game mattered little. There were plenty of others to be played.