Our Nijal showdown began like any other: I swiftly shuffled the deck before offering it to him. He accepted the deck and cut. Then we each drew five cards.

 

Despite my hand containing little worth smiling for, I pasted a smile. I held The Two of Roses, The Three of Roses, The Gallant of Coins, The Gallant of Roses, and Lady Ljura herself, The Divine of Roses.

 

I could use some divine favor now, I thought as I stared at Ljura’s card.

 

The absurdity of me, an atheist, requesting a favor from a god to assist in a card game was not lost on me. Besides, even if possible, I couldn’t solicit anything; I wasn’t wearing owl earrings to channel my prayer. So I discarded any notion of outside help and centered my thoughts on everything under my control.

 

The pair seemed like the best combo to build around. Five-card hand combinations, such as flushes, are far from ideal in Nijal. They crumble if the opponent doesn’t take the bait immediately. Still, since we were at the beginning, I wished to see how Crow played before deciding against using a straight flush. Thus, I concluded one card I held was useless in the long term.

 

“I’ll discard and draw one card.”

 

I flung Ljura out of my hand and drew The Seven of Coins.

 

“I’ll trade three,” Crow said as he discarded The Seven of Shields, The Nine of Coins, and The Four of Coins.

 

Well, there goes my straight flush, I thought.

 

The round provided me with sufficient information despite that. Crow likely held a single pair, given that he retained two cards. If that were all he had, the only combinations which could trump my pair of Gallants were a pair of Divines, Emperors, or Pontiffs. Assuming he hadn’t drawn something better, I noted.

 

Given that it was the first round, I figured it best to check. Most players won’t call in the first round.

 

“I’ll call,” he said with a devilish glimmer.

 

I chomped down on my cheek. “I fold.”

 

He cast an anticipatory leer. “You know what that means.”

 

My eyes narrowed before removing my shoes.

 

“Might as well rip the bandage off now. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

 

He’s trying to rattle me, I thought as I intensified my glare. If he intended to play the player, I’d pretend to fall prey to his antics and turn the tables. “Proceed.”

 

“I’ll get rid of this nine,” he said before discarding the Nine of Coins and drawing something else. “And I’ll get rid of this Three.”

 

The Three of Shields hit the discard pile while another card joined Crow’s hand.

 

Straight flushes with coins low are impossible, I thought as I studied the playing field. However, a straight was still conceivable with the two and three, and I wouldn’t discard my pair yet. What’s more, if I ditched too much, it could expose that I only held a single pair, like when he tossed his hand. “I’ll discard the Seven of Coins.”

 

I drew the Ten of Coins.

 

Kakaz! I cursed.

 

“I’m going to go ahead and call,” Crow said.

 

I sighed and removed my socks.

 

“Can’t say I’m a feet man, but I’ll make do.”

 

I dismissed him and assessed my cards.

 

If I were to make any progress on the straight, I couldn’t grind out the deck. Which meant having to ditch my pair of Gallants. Reward requires risk, I told myself as I discarded the pair and the ten.

 

I drew The Two of Swords, Two of Shields, and Six of Swords, upgrading my hand to a three-of-a-kind. YES! I thought before I twisted my face into a fiery expression for a second. Then I pretended to compose myself.

 

Crow whistled. “Giving up a pair, are you? Get anything good?”

 

I remained silent.

 

“Nothing? Here, I think I got a way to open your mouth.”

 

He threw down his entire hand.

 

My jaw dropped as The Gallant of Shields, Seven of Roses, Emperor of Roses, Divine of Roses, and Divine of Shields hit the discard pile.

 

I alternated glance between the Dimbra and Fyremel cards in the discard pile and Crow’s pompous face.

 

“Can’t say this hand is much of an improvement,” he said before discarding The Eight of Coins, Three of Shields, Emperor of Roses, Seven of Swords, and The Divine of Swords.

 

I tightened my stare and scrutinized his face, which was alight, as he drew.

 

“Up for a showdown now?” he asked.

 

“I’ll check.”

 

“Too bad. Cause I’m staying on the offensive. Call!”

 

I sealed my eyes and considered the playing field.

 

This struck me as an excellent opportunity for an attack. Three of a Kind was a decent hand, and his chances of possessing a suitably strong hand were slim. Moreover, he had challenged me prior despite only holding a single pair, so he could’ve been challenging regardless of card strength.

 

Then again, a part of me said, he was holding two divines.

 

It wouldn’t have been out of the question to conclude that I held only a pair, despite my attempts to disguise my hand’s strength. Perhaps Crow had correctly assumed I didn’t possess a substantial hand and was pushing his advantage? If that were the case, he could’ve somehow lucked out with his last draw and held a dominating hand. Perhaps he was even relying on me underestimating him to lure me into battle.

 

My grip on my cards tightened, and my stomach dropped. Not accepting Crow’s challenge meant stripping either my shirt or pants.

 

I gulped back a lump in my throat and reminded myself that stripping a little further wasn’t the end of the world. “I fold.”

 

Crow cracked up, his laugh bellowing and mocking. “I’ll understand if you want to take your time with this one!”

 

My fingers flexed. I could’ve propelled myself forward, clenched Crow's throat, and squeezed. I could squeeze and squeeze and squeeze some more without much challenge.

 

This isn’t any different from appearing in my bikini top, I told myself as I braced the bottom of my tank top. I took a breath, recalled Crow’s advice about ripping the bandage off, swiftly slipped off the top, cast it aside, and reclaimed my cards. “Make your move.”

 

Crow gawked, and I cringed.

 

“Proceed!” I spat.

 

“Right, right.”

 

He discarded the Emperor of Swords and drew one more. Then he frowned. “Can’t say I’m fond of holy men.” He tossed The Pontiff of Swords and grinned. “There, much better.”

 

His smile failed to touch his eyes. He was faking.

 

“I’ll discard two,” I said as I rid myself of The Three of Coins and Six of Swords. I gained The Pontiff of Roses and Five of Coins in their place.

 

My breathing hitched; I had been hoping for one more two.

 

“Bet you didn’t see this coming,” Crow said. “I call.”

 

I rolled my eyes before sealing them and reviewing the information collected.

Too many face cards had been removed from play for a Royal Flush. A straight flush seemed impossible too. The Sevens of Roses, Coins, Swords, and Shield ensured any combination of six through ten couldn't occur. Likewise, the Three of Shields, Swords, and Coins prevented strikes with the lower combinations.

 

Is there any other way to create a straight flush? I wondered.

 

A chill slithered through me.

 

One combination remained: Two of Roses, Three of Roses, Four of Roses, Five of Roses, and Six of Roses. His tactic of discarding a single card each turn made sense if he sought a straight flush. I’ll consider this more in a moment, I decided, as other possibilities remained.

 

A four-of-a-kind was impossible, based on the discard pile and my hand. A full house, flush, or straight were far too difficult to calculate then and there. I had to consider the likelihood of confronting an opposing three-of-a-kind before I could concern myself with those.

 

There are three Tens, three Eights, three Fours, and three Fives still in play, I realized after scanning my memory. If I encountered any of those, I’d lose.

 

I chewed on my inner cheek as I considered retreating again. I could’ve taken one more turn to try and increase my hand’s strength to a full house or four of a kind. However, proceeding in such a manner would provide him one more turn to obtain his most substantial hand, which I was confident would be a flush.

 

What’s more, it meant more stripping.

 

He’s displaying false bravado, I reminded myself. The odds, combined with his movements and expression, indicated I had the advantage. It simply came down to whether I’d take a leap of faith or play by the numbers.

 

I held my head high and furrowed my brow. “Let’s end this. I accept your showdown.”

 

He spread his cards across the bed, revealing the Four of Roses, The Five of Swords, The Six of Shields, and The Eight of Shields. “You got me beat if you got more than a pair.”

 

A triumphant laugh slipped out as I brandished my Twos. “Three of a kind!”

 

I remained tense, ready to spring into action. Although I had won, I wouldn’t let my guard down until I was confident I could.

 

Crow shrugged. “Ah well, a deal’s a deal. What’s the deets?”

 

I frowned. Crow didn’t seem to care about losing. Based on how he played, I wasn’t even sure he tried.

 

I studied his hand once more. “Why did you attempt a straight? All the sevens were in the discard pile.”

 

He scratched his head. “Huh, guess they all were. Oh well.”

 

My pulse stirred as questions bred. Was I genuinely gaining the best choice for a thief? Was he playing some sort of larger game with me? If he wasn’t, did the way he played reflect the recklessness he approached life with? He had been reckless outside the game as well, after all. Would he overlook a detail on the job?

 

“FYI,” he said, “you can put your shirt back on. Not that I’m complaining.”

 

My body seared as I realized how distracted my questions made me. I snatched my shirt and tugged it back on.

 

“I’ve no inkling as to where the score is yet,” I said, my voice as controlled and casual as I could muster. “I wish for you to remain on standby until I provide instructions. Here.” I removed my earbud and offered it. “So long as there’s WiFi around, we can contact one another in real-time. Otherwise, I’ll call you.”

 

“Anywhere you want me in particular?”

 

“For now, keep an eye on the airport. The window for the heist will be narrow.”

 

Three thuds against the door snagged our attention. Crow crossed the room for the door, his back facing me.

 

I, noticing an opportunity for light payback for the game, plucked something from the bag.

 

“It’s for you,” Crow said as he strolled back in.

 

Wynn followed behind him.

 

“Stellar timing,” I said as I rose to my feet, the stolen goods in my pocket. “I just finished up here. Let’s make haste. We’ll be in touch, Crow.”

 

I hurried us out of the motel room and to the car. Once inside, Wynn provided an update.

 

“Everything is taken care of with the guy. He wanted to repay you somehow in the future, so I got his contact info.”

 

“Stellar,” I said as I clicked my seatbelt on. “Now, let’s return some stolen goods before retiring for the night.”

 

“Stolen goods?”

 

I slid my hand into my pocket and retrieved the roll of bubblegum. “Crow shoplifted it. We’re going to return it.”

 

“…This is one of your jokes, right?”

 

I smirked and slipped it back into my pocket. “I wouldn’t deserve to call myself The Grandmaster of Theft if I didn’t return something stolen, which I could.”

 

Wynn groaned, but he drove me to the store regardless.

 

I wish I could say the day ended there, but one item remained on the itinerary. As I said not too long ago, that night was the night I spoke with Ozonnole for the first time.