Black Rook

by Ingrid Seymour

  She reached for it, but instead of letting her take it, I shook it open, swung it around her, and deposited it on her shoulders once more. I should have stepped back after that, but I couldn’t. She was like a magnet, drawing me near. My hands stayed on her shoulders.

  I swallowed, expecting her to pull back, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a step closer and wrapped her arms around me in a gentle embrace.

  For a moment, I stood flabbergasted. A hug?

  I wasn’t expecting that, nor the feeling of fellowship... of friendship. I’d thought she liked me, but not like this. I hugged her back, fighting the urge to pull away and make sure this chaste embrace didn’t stow me in a category from which I could never come back. I didn’t want to be her friend only.

  But then her hand slid up my chest, feeling, exploring. I exhaled in relief and surprise. She wanted more, too. My skin rippled with a chill. The ember she’d inadvertently lit inside my chest glowed brighter. I had been so long without any real human contact. Was it the same for her? It had to be.

  I caressed her back and turned to inhale the intoxicating scent of her hair. One of her hands rose to my neck, then traveled to my nape, gentle, careful. My body awakened, heat covering me, sliding down my spine like delicious honey. Her fingers threaded into my hair and twirled.

  Pressing her against me, I slid my cheek against hers. Her warmth and softness made me weak. Very slowly, I pulled away, my face gliding against her soft skin. I ached inside, my bones too brittle to contain the desire that built and built within me.

  I peered into her dark eyes, our noses a mere inch apart. We shared a breath. Her eyelashes fluttered.

  “I’ve never kissed anyone,” she said.

  Her voice—raspy with the same desire I felt—unhinged me.

  I wet my lips, doing my best not to tremble like a scared babe. “I want to be the first.” The only. “If you allow me.”

  Her bosom rose and fell against my chest as her breaths quickened. She nodded. Her acquiescence unleashed something in me, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Hope.

  I leaned forward, slowly, so very slowly. Her eyes closed. I cupped her face in my hand as if she were breakable.

  Our lips met. Our breaths mingled. She quivered against me as I fell into her, tumbling and tumbling without care.

  My lower lip caressed hers. Her mouth felt full, soft, heavenly. I deepened my kiss, wishing to taste her, but afraid to go that far on her first kiss. Every muscle in my body was tense. I wanted so much from her, it took everything I had to hold back, to curb my desire.

  Her hands explored my chest, the muscles in my stomach. She wasn’t shy but daring, self-assured. My breath caught after a sharp inhale, revealing how she affected me, but I didn’t care if she knew. I wanted her to know. I’d been with women before, but I’d always felt full of pretense with them. This was different.

  With Bianca, I felt bare, like the peaks of the East Fog mountains must feel against the wind.

  Gods, I wanted her.

  Suddenly, she pulled back, breathless. I leaned forward, reaching for more. She pressed a hand to my chest and held me at bay. She was as breathless as I, as intoxicated. Elation filled me, seeing that I affected her as much as she affected me. It was a selfish, vain emotion, but she was so beautiful, so strong and fiery that I couldn’t help my conceited pride. She liked me and had granted me her first kiss.

  Me, of all men.

  “Where?” she asked.

  I immediately knew what her question meant. I searched my mind, trying to think of a good place for our meeting. “Alfil Park,” I said. “Do you know where it is?”

  She nodded. “White Square, G2.” She began to pull away.

  We quickly decided on a time.

  As she pulled away, I grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Stay a while longer.” It was a plea, and I was a beggar.

  The struggle was clear in her eyes. She wanted to stay, too, but she shook her head. “I’ve already been gone too long. The other Pawns will begin to wonder.”

  “So you’re also a Fourth Pawn, now?”

  “No, a First Pawn.”

  I was in a bit of a shock. First Pawn! How? I hated to think what sort of challenges she’d had to survive, but the fact that she was strong to live through it gave me a measure of peace.

  “Let me walk with you with you, at least,” I said.

  “We shouldn’t be seen together.”

  Of course not. I understood that, but I didn’t want to part from her.

  She came closer, pushed to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to mine, her tongue taking a quick taste of my lips. A thrill speared through my very heart, adding embers to my desire.

  Then, without a word, she whirled and rushed away, leaving me with a wild turmoil of emotions that crippled my reason.

  It wasn’t until much later—when the heady effects of her touch, her kiss, and her presence dissipated—that I realized what a mistake nurturing this connection with Bianca would be and how much more complicated it made things.

  The problem was... my heart was shouting, while my mind only managed to whisper its opposition.

  CHAPTER 13

  I returned to the party.

  Almost two hours had passed since I first walked onto the dance floor, though it only felt like mere minutes. Bianca had made time disappear, stealing minute after minute without my noticing. Perhaps she had stolen more than just my time.

  Fewer people were dancing. The King and Talyssa were gone. I’d donned my mask once more, but the revelers seemed to have forgotten this was a masquerade ball since many of their disguise props now lay on the floor, forgotten.

  I moved closer to the dais, walking nonchalantly in front of the orchestra members who were playing lazily now.

  Images of Bianca in my arms—twirling as we danced, of her hand in mine, the other one on my chest—kept appearing before my eyes. I tried to push them away, but they were stubborn, in the way the sun is stubborn in its daily fight against darkness.

  Maximus’s throne was red velvet and gold, its back, tall and straight. It wasn’t really a throne but a glorified chair. He had a similar one in the Challenge Hall, which stood empty most of the time unless he was in a torturing mood.

  There was an actual throne room somewhere, I knew, and I doubted its main piece of furniture looked anything like this.

  Behind the dais, a door caught my attention. It was partly hidden by a curtain and painted the same color as the wall.

  I glanced back toward the orchestra. They seemed bored and tired. A few drunken couples staggered around, pretending to dance, barking out crude laughs when they stepped on each other’s toes or took the wrong turn.

  Unnoticed, I approached the door and slipped past it, planning to continue my exploration of the palace. As soon as I stepped onto the other side, I froze.

  “Ah, so good of you to finally join us, Stonehelm,” the King said, a calculating smile revealing his blood stained fangs.

  King Maximus was stretched on top of a long, upholstered chair, one arm dangling over the side. Talyssa’s head rested on his thigh, two dribbles of blood sliding from the side of her neck down to her chest. A metallic scent saturated the air.

  Heart pounding, I quickly scanned the room, trying to assess the situation I’d stepped into. About ten people occupied the space, a drawing room similar to the one Bianca and I had encountered earlier. They were mostly women, but there were a couple of men, too. They lounged on the furniture like lazy cats.

  Their clothes were in a state of disarray. Buttons unfastened. Cravats loose. Shirts untucked, stockings and shoes strewn about. Glasses of wine sat empty or half-full on every available surface.

  “You’ve already been enjoying yourself, I see.” King Maximus gestured to indicate my missing jacket.

  I said nothing, fighting the urge to go to Talyssa and make sure she was fine, to tell her I’d seen Bianca, to lie and promise we would help her.

  A woman i
n a yellow dress, her bodice torn open, slunk in my direction on bare feet. She moved like a cat and seemed ready to twine herself around my legs, purring. I took a step back—not wishing to soil the feel of Bianca’s touch still on my skin. The woman made a sound that was close to a hiss and retreated, waist-long hair swinging from side to side.

  “There is also Velkan if your inclinations are such,” King Maximus said, gesturing toward a young man lounging drunkenly on a wide armchair.

  Once more, I made no comment.

  “So stiff and proper,” Maximus said. “So... boring.”

  My eyes drifted to Talyssa.

  The King’s eyebrows rose up. “Her?” he asked, amusement in his tone. “Take her if you want. I’ve had my fill for tonight.” He jerked his leg, and she slid down, falling toward the floor.

  Without thinking, I rushed forward, reached out, and stopped her head from hitting the floor just in time.

  Maximus smirked, his expression letting me know how pathetic he found me.

  Sliding my hands under Talyssa’s arms, I dragged her away and, finding nowhere to lay her down, I gently rested her on the carpet.

  “She’s a weak Trove,” the King said with disgust, rising from his chair and walking around the room. As he went, he brushed those he passed like pieces of furniture. In turn, they leaned into his touch, cold creatures reaching for their sun.

  Talyssa let out a quiet moan. I smoothed her blond curls out of her face and saw the seeping puncture marks at her neck.

  Maximus slid his tongue across his upper teeth, wiping them clean of blood. “Your brother is far more delicious and potent.”

  I sprang to my feet, fists clenched.

  Mouth closed, he laughed deep in his throat in fake amusement. He found me pathetic. And I was. My strength no match to his and—no matter how much I trained, how fast and agile I became—it would never be enough.

  “But Timotei,” he continued, carelessly turning his back on me and walking toward the young man he had offered me, “is also weak due to his age. I can drain him in a matter of seconds, and after that, he’s useless for days.”

  Even as my anger flared so bright that my vision turned red, it was futile. I wanted to attack, lunge at him, and pummel his face into the floor until my fists were nothing but splintered bone, but I couldn’t. I knew too well how that would end, and I’d be nothing but a fool if I didn’t learn from my mistakes.

  I needed to think differently, needed to come up with a solution that ended with his death and not my torture.

  I’d known this since my last failure, but tonight—here, in his arrogant, oblivious presence, and in view of his amusement and lack of fear over my undisguised fury—things grew clearer.

  He wanted this of me, this helplessness, this ridiculous display of impotence that served only to underline how absolutely powerful he was. We were his pawns, each and every one of us, here to be whatever he needed us to be. His food, his entertainment, his dramatic escape from boredom.

  I forced my fists to unclench and took a deep breath. I couldn’t let him provoke me. I had to be smarter.

  “My brother is strong,” I said, knowing this to be true.

  “That, he is,” King Maximus said. “But Trove’s always are. Take Talyssa, for instance.” He glanced down at her prone shape on the floor. “Tomorrow, she will be fussing over your brother like a mother hen, making sure he eats his meals and learns his letters.”

  Talyssa was teaching Timotei to read?

  Before he was taken, I’d been trying to teach him, but our progress had been excruciatingly slow. At night, when I’d had time for such endeavors, the boy had been too tired to pay close attention and had, invariably, fallen asleep as we sounded out words from the few books we owned.

  “Sometimes,” the King continued, “I wonder why she looks after him that way. I suspect it’s so she can get a respite, have another Trove take her place, you know.” He smiled wickedly.

  Anger toward Talyssa flared in my chest, but I suppressed it as soon as I realized what the King was doing. Manipulation seemed to be a game he enjoyed, like a master puppeteer pulling the strings of his helpless dolls.

  In response, I walked up to Talyssa and picked her up, cradling her against my chest. She felt light, insubstantial as if her spirit had made up the bulk of her weight and it was now gone, departed to a place where no hurt could reach it. Gently, I deposited her on the chair Maximus had vacated. Her arms and head dropped as soon as I let her go.

  Poor girl. So utterly helpless in the hands of a monster, and no one able to help, no matter how willing.

  Her eyes opened drowsily. I squeezed her hand and tried to send her a message... not of hope, but of patience and endurance. I didn’t know how long it would take—maybe a lifetime—but I would make this right.

  CHAPTER 14

  I have been patient.

  That was what I told myself as, two weeks after the masquerade ball, I walked into Knight Traian’s office and stood at attention in front of him as he finished his paperwork.

  I’d waited until everyone had left the dining hall after lunch to come in here and announce my intentions. I had been Fourth Pawn for ten weeks, enough time to issue my next challenge.

  Normally, a Fourth Pawn would challenge a Third Pawn. A Third a Second. And a Second a First. It was the safe progression. However, there was nothing in the contract that forbade a Fourth Pawn to challenge a First. And that was what I intended to do.

  I have been patient.

  The repeated chant inside my head was the voice of denial. Deep down I knew I was taking a big risk. Loredana Enescu had been First Pawn for ten years. She was agile, clever, strong. My four months of training were nothing in comparison. But the decision had been brewing in my mind since the night of the Hallows Eve ball, when I tried to tell Talyssa to be patient, to endure.

  But how long could she bear this? A lifetime was too long. What would be left of her in a couple of years? And what of her spirit? Would it return to her after being gone for that long?

  As far as Talyssa was concerned, I didn’t know the answer. She was a stranger to me, and I ignored whether or not her will was strong. What I did know was that Timotei’s small, innocent spirit couldn’t possibly be that resilient. How could it? He’d barely begun to learn its shape.

  Knight Traian finally looked up from his paperwork and acknowledged my presence. I stood across from his desk, hands clasped behind my back, posture erect.

  “What do you want, Pawn?” he said, not bothering to hide his animosity toward me, which made his face appear longer and more unpleasant than normal.

  “I’m ready for my next challenge, Knight Traian,” I said, my gaze locked on a spot on the wall behind him.

  He set down his quill, left his seat, and walked around the desk. Knight Arcos’s desk sat empty next to his, all his papers orderly and neat. They both occupied this office, and I wondered how they dealt with each other, what they talked about, what plans occupied their minds. Did they wish to become Bishops? Did they share pointers and strategies on how to beat them?

  Knight Traian braced his hip against the desk, reclining his tall, slender frame. He looked at me down his long, hook nose.

  “Your greed to climb up the ranks is unparalleled,” he huffed.

  I continued to stare straight ahead and said nothing.

  “But no matter,” he said with a dismissive flip of his hand. “The quicker we’re rid of you, the better. You will find that Serban Caskmourn is more than ready to take you on.”

  “It is not the Third Pawn I wish to challenge, but the First,” I said firmly.

  There was silence for a second, then Knight Traian burst into laughter. It was a hearty laugh that shook him and made him take a few deep breaths when he was done.

  “Loredana Enescu will wipe the floor with you, boy.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said, even though doubt had already made itself comfortable in the pit of my stomach.

  The am
usement that lingered on the Knight’s face disappeared. He narrowed his eyes, distrust taking root. I met his gaze, then smirked as if I knew something he didn’t.

  The fact that the King had ordered me to fight while his blood ran in my veins was no secret. No one spoke about it. No one even dared insinuate it, lest the King saw it as a challenge to his authority. Everyone believed Ungur or Brigita should have killed me, that I’d won only because I’d been faster and stronger than I should have been.

  But I was still here, and everyone was left to wonder why the King had favored me so. Would he give me his blood again before another challenge took place? Did he plan to let me climb up the ranks quickly, despite all their precious rules?

  I had no idea, but I certainly wanted everyone to think so.

  “Whatever you hope to accomplish,” Knight Traian said, stepping forward and putting his face a mere few inches from mine, “you won’t succeed, Stonehelm. Many of us have been at this game for a long time, longer than you’ve been alive. I sincerely doubt you will become First Pawn, but if, somehow, you manage to do it, you won’t get any further than that. I promise you.”

  His metallic breath filled my nostrils, reminding me of the scent that had permeated the King’s drawing room, of Talyssa’s puncture marks on her neck.

  “Do let me know when the challenge can take place, Knight Traian,” I said with a bow as I took a step back. “For now, I plan to spend a few Chekes down in the city this afternoon. It’s a glorious, sunny day for that.”

  I saluted, my arm held at a forty-five-degree angle with the floor. I even clicked my boots for good measure, then, as I walked out of his office, I pushed away the fear my rash decision had caused and thought of Bianca instead. I would see her again today, if only once more.

  Today was our afternoon off.

  CHAPTER 15

  I made my way down to Acedrex faster than ever before. I had Jigsaw with me, and it took all I had not to push him into a gallop rather than a canter.

  As a Pawn, I was now allowed to take my mount out of the palace. Most of the time, I didn’t bother since I never went too far from the Black Palace, but since I was meeting Bianca at the other end of the city, I’d brought him with me.