Part 55 (1/2)

”Yes, thirty-four,” he shouted suddenly. The prattle of numbers he had used many times before when posing as a magician came easily to his mind. ”Eight and twelve- eight and twelve are twenty and thirty-four minus twenty is fourteen, which is just two numbers from twelve. Two numbers, two-two is precisely the total to be chosen- as the calculations said they would be.”

Milligan frowned but said nothing. He reached for the next ball. ”Ninety-” he began, but Kestrel cut him off.

”Yes, in the nineties,” he said. ”Eight times twelve is ninety-six. The numbers emerged according to plan.”

Another ball bounced up to the exit orifice, but before it could start its journey it suddenly fell backward into the rest. The whirl of random motion died away. In an instant, all the spheres were lying quietly in the bottom of the bowl.

Jeiilac emerged from the confines of his shelter. With

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a waddling gait he walked out to stand at Milligan's side.

”I have stopped the blower,” Jelilac said as he glanced quickly at Myra's tally on the board. ”If you truly be-iieve in the power of your calculation, I have another proposition to offer instead.”

Myra tossed back her head and laughed, the tension suddenly gone. She glanced once at Kestrel and smiled. ”You said that I would not cause doubt, Milligan,” she wheezed, ”but your master's words speak otherwise. Do not mind this old book. It does not really matter. It served, to pull a lucky number from the air. It means no more than! that.”

”I am willing to up the stakes still further,” Jelilacl said, ”and give you better odds.”

”You heard what my minion said,” Myra answered.] ”The flow of luck is in my direction. There is no incentive for me to change.”

”If we employ instead the giant spinner, I will give you nine portions out of ten of the field,” Jelilac said. ”And in addition to the twelve, I propose that we become part of the prize pools ourselves.”

”No, not the spinner,” Milligan said. ”It is not proper. We have agreed not to succ.u.mb to the temptation that was offered. Let us continue with the dancing spheres. Surely you will prevail.”

Myra squinted. ”Nine out often,” she said, ”and your body to probe with my pinchers as I see fit.” She slapped the almanac at her side. ”Why not?” she cackled. ”Your luck is potent, but it cannot be that much greater than mine.”

Jelilac grimaced and motioned back to his retainers. ”I will be archon.” He answered the question forming on their lips. ”If we do not duel with the same tools, then how can we be sure?”

Milligan opened his mouth to protest, but Jelilac's stare turned him aside. He stood silent while two of the master aleator's retainers emerged from behind the tapestries carrying a large wooden frame into which a hundred pegs had been pounded in the outline of a great circle. With his head shaking, Milligan propped the panel

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right. He offered no more aid as the helpers affixed a

Tut shaft onto an axle that protruded through the

nter of the frame. Kestrel saw that a flap of stiff

father was affixed to one end of the shaft and protruded

just far enough to touch the circle of pegs.

”You may start the spinner into motion, Myra,” Jelilac said with tension in his voice. ”Then before it has completed its third spin, I will call out the ten numbers that I select as my own.”

Myra stepped from the fortifications. With a flourish of her cape, she walked across the casino floor, avoiding the mines that remained. When she reached the frame, she bowed slightly toward each of the six sides of the casino. Then, with an elaborate gesture, she grasped the opposite end of the spinner from the one that held the leather flap. The few remaining murmurs of the crowd vanished in antic.i.p.ation.

”A moment.” Jelilac held out his hand. ”Please do not begin until I am ready.” Moving as quickly as he could, he joggled back into the cover of his canvas-draped box. For a moment, there was silence. Myra scowled, but waited, a smile of antic.i.p.ation growing on her face.

Kestrel twisted uncomfortably. He had changed the contest slightly, but not enough to make any real difference. After one spin of the wheel, what hope did he and Phoebe have? If only there were some way to get a fire started before-