One-Sixth

"Finally, I can take a breather."

Eve said weakly. She'd been dancing with Lorenzo ever since they arrived, and had finally gotten a chance to rest when the music changed.

So far, their infiltration had gone fairly well. No one had noticed anything amiss or come over to speak with them. Still, curious glances kept coming their way, making Eve nervous.

"Don't worry. They're just curious."

Lorenzo spoke at just the right moment.

"This sort of ball has been held in secret countless times. Even masked guests can recognize one another, so with us showing up today, they're bound to wonder where we came from."

"Should we talk to them?"

"No need. The more we say, the more likely we are to slip up."

Lorenzo was a remarkably good actor. The way he carried himself so casually, you'd think he'd attended dozens of these balls.

His gray-blue eyes swept back and forth. In truth, he was uneasy too, but he didn't tell Eve. The feeling had been growing ever since he saw the stained-glass window. It belonged in a church, yet here it stood in this eerie underground hall, as if the glass concealed a gateway to hell.

"Eve, have you seen any guards?" Lorenzo asked suddenly.

"Guards?" The girl looked around. Everything was awash in a sea of merriment. What guards?

"Exactly. We haven't seen any since the beginning of our journey here."

Lorenzo's expression turned unusually grave. Seated in his chair, he saw nothing out of place. It all seemed like an ordinary ball. But then he noticed something: servants were weaving through the crowd, carrying trays of coins and gold.

The trading had already begun—or rather, it had begun the moment the two of them arrived. Lorenzo had expected some sort of formal speech, followed by a grand entrance surrounded by beautiful women. Instead, the goods being traded were laid out on trays like drinks and passed through the crowd.

Damn it. Sabo probably wouldn't show up at all.

Everything tonight had followed a perfect script. Lorenzo had anticipated everything, except this.

As Lorenzo fretted over what to do, a servant approached with a tray of Butcher Coins and gold and silver jewelry. Lorenzo pretended to be familiar with the routine and was about to take out the last few Butcher Coins he had to send the servant on his way, when the servant spoke first.

"Sir, someone would like to meet you."

The servant wore a mask and spoke in a cold voice. In these circumstances, that made Lorenzo uneasy.

"Meet me?"

Lorenzo asked again. The servant stepped aside, revealing a man in a Bull mask on the dais behind him, waving at Lorenzo.

"Eve, get your weapon ready. I think we've been exposed."

Lorenzo stood and spoke quietly to Eve as he did.

The girl's expression changed at once. She rested a hand lightly against her thigh; only a thin layer of fabric separated her from the cold weapon.

"What are you going to do?"

The girl asked in a whisper. Lorenzo took out his pocket watch. It was one in the morning.

"Go meet him. There's no getting away now."

With that, Lorenzo took Eve's hand and strode forward.

This was the highest point in the hall, directly beneath the stained-glass window. From below, Lorenzo had seen many people on the dais, but when he arrived, only the man who'd waved to him remained, along with a servant standing far away.

The lively, joyful ball had left this place strangely deserted.

"Welcome, my new friend."

The man greeted him with open arms. He was broad and powerfully built, a body that matched his mask perfectly. It reminded Lorenzo of Shrike's mask.

"It looks like I've been found out. I'd like to know how you recognized me, Mr. Sabo."

Lorenzo and Eve sat across from Sabo. He made no attempt to hide anything, saying it outright with the same calm demeanor as before.

There was no point in being secretive; it would only make him look ridiculous. Sabo could have simply killed them instead of inviting them over.

Sabo smiled faintly. He was the host here, and everything was under his control.

"From the moment you got on the carriage, sir. You know this business can't be conducted in the open. Once the guest list is full, we usually close the doors to outsiders. Even if someone brings a new guest, an existing guest has to ask me first. But in a place like this... who would tell anyone about it?"

Everyone wore a mask, dancing lightly across the floor.

"This is paradise, but people are greedy by nature. No one would share a place like this with others. So the number of guests can only decrease, never increase. And that's not even mentioning your Butcher Coins."

A Shrike Bird coin spun across the table before finally landing with the Shrike Bird side up. Sabo looked at Lorenzo, his gaze seeming to gleam from beneath the Bull mask.

"Do you know, sir, one Butcher Coin can be exchanged for three Gold Lion Coins? That's enough to support a family in the Lower District for several months. Its value doesn't fall with the rise and fall of prices, either. Take it to an exchange and you're guaranteed to get your money."

Sabo spoke slowly.

"The Lower District is a garbage heap. The poor hide their Butcher Coins in the most intimate places to protect them, constantly rubbing them with their hands to reassure themselves they're still there. That's their life."

"But look at your Butcher Coins. They're as new as if they'd just come out of the mint. Only that esteemed Shrike has coins that new."

The little details had given Lorenzo away. He nodded slightly. But the cards were on the table now; there was no need to hide anything. Lorenzo drew the silver revolver and pointed it at Sabo. It was a dangerous move, but the servant standing not far away acted as if he hadn't seen a thing.

"Then I assume you recognize this gun."

"Shrike's gun. Of course I recognize it."

Sabo seemed entirely unsurprised by its appearance. He showed no reaction at all, instead picking up a wineglass and pouring in a drink as red as blood.

"It's called Death Knell, because Shrike said that when it fires, it sounds like the bell tolling for the dead."

The bell tolled, the bullet left the barrel, and the dead lay forever beneath the earth.

Lorenzo looked at the demons carved into the cylinder, fighting back against the gods' domain before burning to ash in a sea of flames.

"I only came to ask a few questions. There's no need for bloodshed."

"But by bringing a weapon, you've already prepared yourself for bloodshed, haven't you?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment, their eyes expressing the same feeling. Like hunters meeting on a narrow path, they both knew what would happen next.

It had been only a simple conversation, but the strange pressure had clamped around Eve's throat. From the moment she sat down, she couldn't say a word—or even move. Even when Lorenzo lifted her skirt and took the gun called Death Knell, she didn't resist.

The joyful ball continued without a break in the music, despite Lorenzo drawing his gun. Yet both men could feel the undercurrent surging beneath the surface.

"Why don't we find a compromise?"

Lorenzo suddenly lowered his gun, abandoning his hard line. Beneath his brass mask, he wore a confident smile.

"You seem to understand the situation," Sabo said, studying the man before him. He found himself growing somewhat interested.

"Of course. What would killing you accomplish? I'd have no chance of leaving here alive. You're running an illicit business. You have to protect yourself and satisfy your guests. After all, here they're guests, but once they take off their masks, they're the people in charge of every important post in Old Dunling. Your being alive is a stain on their reputations. If they join forces, you're as good as dead."

Lorenzo looked around the magnificent hall. It was hard to imagine how much money Sabo had poured into the place.

"All it would take is one word from you, and a group of guards would appear to evacuate the guests. Then this place would become a bunker. No one could get out, and no one could get in."

Like Thermopylae, that passageway with a man standing guard outside, armed with a musket. Even if an army were hidden in the Underground Palace, it would be hard to get out. But likewise, if Sabo held the passage, no one could break in.

"You won't fight Shrike, but that's all you'll do—refrain from fighting. If you keep your mouth shut, I won't be able to dig anything out of you."

"So what will you do, sir?"

"Why don't we make a wager?" Lorenzo's eyes lit up at the mention of gambling.

"A wager?"

"Exactly. Only at the gambling table are we evenly matched. The Goddess of Luck favors neither side. No blood, no conflict—couldn't be more harmonious."

"Hmm... Interesting."

Sabo seemed surprised, but he went along with it. He clapped his hands, and a servant arrived carrying an ornate case. It opened to reveal playing cards, dice, and all manner of games.

"Which one do you want to play?"

As he spoke, Sabo began shuffling the cards. Queens and kings tumbled through his hands before he spread them across the table, like an army unfurling for battle.

Lorenzo shook his head and picked up the revolver again. This time, he opened the cylinder and removed the bullets one by one.

"To be honest, I'm not very good at cards. I prefer pure... luck to all that mathematical calculation."

Five bullets lay scattered across the table, their brass casings reflecting the masks of the three people. The cylinder spun with a rattling whir.

Lorenzo's voice was quiet. He recalled the familiar words and then said,

"One chance in six."