“I got this lucky penny off a lad today in the hotel,” Toby Vok said, rolling the coin between his fingers then up and down his sleeves before it emerged from below the hem of his skirt. He picked it up and made it disappear behind his ear.
“A travelling merchant and his son came to me and asked if it was okay to take my soul. When he’d finished syphoning it off his son said: “Let me give you a lucky coin. It’s not cursed at all!” and then they went off with a chuckle that sounded a bit like a duetted scream.
“Here it is,” Toby said, revealing what appeared to be a sweet to the crowd, before closing his hand and then opening the other, from which a dove flew out. “I had it in my pocket, all along.” Then he withdrew it from his pocket and spun it between his fingers. It looked like the moon. It looked like the sun. It looked like a coin again. “I used it and I won and then I won again. It’ll stay with me forever now. It feels like I can’t lose.
“I’m not really superstitious, I just love coins.” he added. “Here, let me show you how it works.”
And with that he put it in the machine in the corner by the bar. A random assortment of shapes came up, and the coin was gone.