“I’ll take your slaves as equal value, Lady.” He glanced up, seeing the shock in Ednund and Clarice’s faces. “They’ve been trained all of their lives to do your bidding. Rhodium is a rare element in Solar System, but it’s the most corrosion-resistant metal known. Not to mention the most valuable. How about I up my bet? A half metric ton. You could buy Taglioni Tower with that. It would put you in good with sour old Claudio. A real one up on Suharto and Radcek. I can have it delivered right to your dome. You can sit on it and have a holo taken before we ship it up to Turalon.”

God, how he loved this. Demon was squirming in his chest, almost bouncing off his ribs. The quetzal sensed blood, the kill. Dek could see the seething behind Falise’s eyes as she stared down at her three jacks. Wondering all the while at what he held. Torn between the remarkable wealth he promised, or the unthinkable shame of gambling away her personal servants.

“How do I know you really have such a fortune in rhodium?”

“I’ve heard that a Taglioni never lies, never welches on a bet. Is that true?”

“It is, not that a gutter-born Cretan like you would know.”

That elicited a chorus of gasps around the room; Falise ignored them, her hard green gaze weighing her predicament. If she folded, she lost everything, all the wealth sitting in that pot that she’d built. That Dek had staked her for. And that placed her in debt to him.

So, now that you’re trapped, what are you going to do?

In a coolly dispassionate voice, he told her: “As a Taglioni, I give you my word that I have more than a half metric ton, in my possession.” Then he smiled and added, “So, if a Taglioni never lies, that should end the matter.”

In all of his life, Dek had never seen Falise look so horrified.

Chapter 34

  34  

Dek stared into his sister’s disbelieving eyes. Behind her, Ednund and Clarice both looked as if they were going to be sick.

“But . . . what happened to you?” Falise finally asked.

Dek supposed that for the first time in the place’s history, The Jewel was quiet enough to hear an invertebrate fart.

“Got her.” Rocket’s TriNA whispered in Dek’s ear.

“I grew up,” Dek told her. “People come to Donovan for three reasons: Most come just to leave again. Many come to die. And some come to find themselves. I did that last thing. Found myself. I suggest you do the first. Leave.”

“But your face?” she wondered. “I mean, I can see it in your eyes, but Derek’s were yellow-green. Yours are . . . feral. And your face? Like it’s misshapen. And, Gods almighty, that horrible scar. When did you grow a beard? How could you? Genetically, you shouldn’t be able to.”