Abi d'Ilga stared at her hand. She had too many cards. Hitotsu rewarded mercurial strategies and ruthless betrayals. The first player to get rid of all their cards won that round of submitting memorials. Everyone else was stuck with the value of their hand. The person with the lowest score after eight submissions won. It was the fifth submission. Abi had eleven cards.
What a disaster!
But all was not lost. It rarely was in a game which rewarded mercurial strategies and ruthless betrayals. Once Edrus played his card, it would be Abi's turn. She could then play her own card. The card she intended to play would switch all the cards in her hand with those in Left Attendant's hand — and Left Attendant would have to skip her turn.
Vengeance would belong to Abi.
Except she had so many cards because Edrus kept forcing her to draw more. The Tenth Prince had no sense of gratitude. Abi had just saved him from dirty rottens! Of course, one of the cards Edrus had forced Abi to draw was the one which allowed her to switch hands with Left Attendant.
The automaton had a habit of winning.
Whenever Left Attendant lost, Edrus won. Edrus and Left Attendant were schemers. Richan and Abi shared roly-poly body shapes — and played Hitotsu on more "intuitive" levels.
"Esteemed colleagues," said Edrus.
Abi's shoulders tensed. His voice implied trouble. Her fingers compressed her cards.
"We have received a new Edict," continued Edrus.
"We receive the Edict," the rest of the table dutifully intoned.
Edrus placed his card on the stack. Abi's face spasmed. The direction of play reversed. Richan cheered. It was his turn instead of hers. He had no sense of gratitude either!
"Hitotsu," said Edrus.
He only had one card left. Depending on which cards Richan and Left Attendant played, Abi would either get to trade hands with Edrus — or add an awful lot of points to her score.
"Erdus played a great card!" said Hermes. "Didn't he, Abi?"
Hermes Charleslouis was ten. He was shorter than Abi and thinner than Edrus. His entire head was enveloped in an unruly ball of pale lemon hair with two bulbs on either side. His eyes were blue and his ears were pointy. He favored puffy yellow outfits to match his puffy yellow hair. They were practically pajamas.
Some even had footies.
Hermes was the last and current Emperor of the Dynasty of Ten Thousand Years. He was also a ghost. Or a spirit. Elves didn't really have ghosts. Edrus and Richan had strong inner arcana, but only Abi and Left Attendant could see or hear Hermes under normal circumstances.
"Esteemed colleagues," said Left Attendant. "It was a good play."
"We'll see how good it was," muttered Abi.
"Esteemed colleagues," said Edrus. "Abi failed to follow protocol. She must draw another card."
More betrayal!
Abi drew another card. Her potential score went up by nine points. That was a disaster. Once she got to play, however, it would be a bigger disaster for the other person. Such was the nature of Hitotsu.
"Every card is an opportunity, Abi!" said Hermes.
"That's right, Hermes," she said.
A moment of panic struck — and passed. The game's protocol did not require saying "esteemed colleagues" when she was addressing someone who wasn't playing. The revelation that Hermes was present excited Richan. That excitement grew when Hermes appeared for a few moments. The giggling became a feedback loop.
Ordinarily, Abi enjoyed it when Richan and Hermes giggled. It sounded like pipas. She stood on the precipice of victory or defeat, however, and was eager to advance.
"Esteemed colleagues," she said. "It is Richan's turn."
Richan played an edict of his own. Left Attendant was forced to draw two cards. Play advanced to the elven automaton. The automaton played a card requiring Abi to draw four. Pressure built in Abi's lungs. Ordinarily, that pressure would release in a spectacular outburst. Her outbursts were popular with studio audiences. Rather than release the pressure in a titanic complaint about the absence of fairness in the Universe, however, Abi chuckled.
The more cards in her hand — the more points she had to pass on to Edrus.
One card; five points to pass on.
Two cards; seven points to pass on.
Three cards.
Abi's vision shrank to the card she had just drawn. The pressure in her lungs had been released by her chuckles. She was therefore not charged up to bemoan the lack of fairness in the universe. The tall, thin, meticulous Tenth Prince was supposed to pay for his treachery. But he would not pay. Abi had drawn a card which required her to play it immediately.
"Esteemed colleagues," she said, choking back emotion. "I am ordered to skip my turn."
"That's okay, Abi!" whispered Hermes. "You don't have to draw the last card!"
Abi's face went through the stages of grief quickly. It was impossible to yell at Hermes.
"You're right, Hermes," Abi replied. "The battle is won. However, the war is lost."
"Why is that?" asked the cute imp.
"This skip card counts as all four suits at once," explained Abi.
The suits were Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Red Bird, and Black Turtle.
"So what's the problem?" asked Hermes with great big eyes.
"Edrus only has one card left," said Abi. "And it is guaranteed that he will be able to play it."
Edrus played White Tiger One — winning that round of submitting memorials to the Emperor.
Abi reminded herself that maintaining harmony with all things brought more blessings than engaging in tantrums. But her so-called friends had obviously planned to humiliate her in advance! Peace. Tranquility. How could she remain peaceful and tranquil when she was the victim of a plot! Tranquility. Peace. No fair! Whenever Left Attendant lost, Edrus won! Hitotsu was a game of chance. A game of chance should distribute its victories randomly.
There….
There it was again.
The tickle of another presence irritated Abi d'Ilga's cute nose. It wasn't the first tickle of the evening. Abi scanned the garden. Everything looked normal in the central courtyard surrounding the card hut gazebo. There was a splash — but that was only the sound of a big carp gulping down a bug that got too close to the water.
"Nhao!" wailed Abi. "Come here and cheer me up!"
"Oh that's a good idea, Abi," agreed Hermes. "Nhao always cheers me up! But why do you need cheering up? You have so many points!"
The kirin puppy sprang up from where he was snoozing and bounced into Abi's lap. While petting him, Abi gave Left Attendant a signal there was a problem. The elven automaton stood up, and suggested that as a reward for Abi getting a record number of points in one round, they should all go into the kitchen. There, they could ask Madame to prepare ice cream treats.
"Abi can rest here," concluded Left Attendant, "to bask in this historic moment."
"Oh, I'll bask all right," muttered Abi.
Not long after Left Attendant and the princes departed, Monsieur arrived.
"Take a good sniff," Abi told Nhao.
Nhao sniffed.
"I don't smell anything, Abi," he said.
"Sniff again."
After several sniffs, Nhao agreed there was someone moving around on the walls and roofs of the Ancient Bailey "assassin style." Monsieur didn't give anything away. The danger posed by one assassin was minor.
Really, the break was mostly an excuse to stop losing.
"It's a boy," said Nhao. "Not quite as old as the bumpkin."
"Who is the bumpkin?" asked Monsieur discretely.
"Jihûn."
"Of course."
"The assassin isn't much bigger than Edrus, though," said Nhao. "He has more muscles, but hasn't had a bath in a long time. Strangely…."
"Strangely?" prompted Abi.
"He still smells pretty good," said Nhao.
"Hmmm," said Abi. "Assassin musk."
Monsieur raised an automaton eyebrow.
"The assassin is moving fast," said Nhao.
"Distributing his aroma across a wider world," said Monsieur.
"His lightness techniques are strong," said Nhao.
"How strong?" asked Abi.
"Better than Moonlight Chamber."
Abi leaned back in her chair. Had Sorrow Woe Society come to dance? No. That wasn't it. She rocked for a while in silent contemplation.
"Very unexpected," she said. "How exciting is that!? But we aren't the target."
"Who is?" asked Monsieur.
"I'm not sure yet. I need a few more whiffs. Get a message to Consort Chen not to kill this assassin if she catches him."
There were Attendants all around the Ancient Bailey now. They communicated over a telepathic network. Monsieur conveyed the message.
"Consort Chen could freeze the assassin," said Monsieur. "Maybe turn him into a ghoul?"
"I think we should handle this one," said Abi.
"How?" asked Monsieur.
"Mom!" yelled Abi.
She could make a conspicuous amount of noise when she wanted to. Abi's mother appeared shortly after being summoned. She was a short, robust woman with charming features and the strongest healing arcana in Great Yao. Mrs. d'Ilga could conjure a mist to knock the intruder out the next time he passed by, depending on how fast he was moving, but Abi had a different plan.
"Goodness, sweetie!" protested Mrs. d'Ilga. "You'll wake the dead. Again! Is Hermes here?"
"He's gone to watch Madame make dessert," said Abi. "But Mom!"
"Sweetie?"
"I've been losing all night!"
"I'm sorry, sweetie. Dessert will make it better. What do you need me for?"
"Could you bring out some gold?"
"Gold?" asked Mrs. d'Ilga.
"Gold!" said Abi, projecting her voice. "If I'm going to lose, I want there to be stakes!"
"Stakes?" asked Mrs. d'Ilga, suspiciously. "Won't that make losing worse?"
"Mom! Stakes will stop me from losing!"
"If you say so, sweetie. I'll get some gold."
"A lot!"
"Of course," agreed Mrs. d'Ilga. "Do you want your gold before or after your ice cream?"