“They’re not for Rory to take,” Sebastian said. “They’re for Rory toscry.”
“Oh.” Wesley sat back in his chair. “Can he really?”
“I think he may want to try,” Sebastian said. “Lady Nora said she always keeps them on hand. Maybe Rorycan find out where she’s been traveling—and who she’s been traveling with.”
“Now we’re finally getting somewhere,” Wesley said.
* * *
After a dessert of peach melba, they took the elevator down to E-deck and wove their way toward the stern of the ship until they found a heavy door labeledSecond Class. From there, they followed stairs and carpeted halls until they found the second-class smoking lounge, a dark space with oak furniture upholstered in green leather. It lacked the opulence of first but was perfectly comfortable, and Wesley liked it better, the way he preferred cigarettes to cigars.
Arthur and Rory had a table at the back, by an open window. Arthur waved, and Wesley and Sebastian crossed the room to join them.
They waited for the attendant to take their order and bring their drinks—Wesley tactfully not commenting on Sebastian’s decision to go back to soda. Once they were in relative privacy again, Wesley pulled Lady Nora’s seasickness pills from his jacket, and stretched across the table to set them in front of Rory.
“Considerate,” Arthur said, sounding unflatteringly surprised. “But I did bring Rory’s pills.”
Wesley shook his head. “Can you scry this?” he said to Rory.
Rory looked to Sebastian, who nodded. “We got them from the Duke of Valemount’s niece.”
They filled Arthur and Rory in on their encounters with Lady Nora. Rory’s eyebrows were up as he picked up the pills consideringly. “You two, lean in,” Arthur said. He pointed to a deck of cards on the table. “We can pretend we’re playing cards while he scries.”
“Not a chance,” Wesley said. “We’re waiting until Brodigan’s done, and then we’re not pretending anything. I’ll enjoy watching all of you lose at poker.”
Rory snorted. “Even woozy on seasickness pills, I’ll still take you to the cleaners again.”
“Again.” Wesley tilted his head back, considering Rory and recalling the rounds they’d played in London in spring. “Oh, I see,” he said, as that night fell into place. “When we played before, I didn’t know about magic. Did you use your psychometry to win?”
“I gave you back your money,” Rory said defensively.
“Yes, but now you’ve given me back mypride,” Wesley said. “We most certainly must play tonight.”
Rory looked at him suspiciously. “Look, if you’re still sore—”
“You misunderstand,” Wesley said. “I welcome a worthy opponent. I want another match, and I want you to use every trick you have. It will mean I can be ten times as smug when I beat you.”
“You can try,” Rory said meaningfully.
Sebastian made a face. “Poker is not really my game.”
Wesley tsked. “Do you need me to fund your bets?”
“No,” Sebastian said, giving him a look. “I can pay to lose, it’s fine.”
Rory tilted his head. “Guess money’s not a big deal when your family’s been connected to magic for more than four hundred years, huh? Or when you’re distantly related to dukes.”
“It’s very distant,” Sebastian said, looking self-conscious. “And money’s just not something I think a lot about.”
“That’s how you know you have it.” Rory tapped the table. “All right. Deal the cards while I scry. Fine saysmagic’s allowed, so I’m not gonna feel bad for robbing any of you.”
“We should really just hand him our money,” Arthur muttered.
“Nonsense,” Wesley said testily. “I’m going to win.”
“If you say so,” Arthur said, picking up his drink.
Rory closed his eyes. The room was dim and no one was watching the four of them in the corner, but Wesley still leaned forward, along with Arthur and Sebastian, and began to deal the cards.
