“What were yeh two talkin’ about. Good luck with what?” Rook Sanda asked as the door swung shut behind us. He wasn’t bothering with his upper-class accent today.
“Um, nothing,” I said, keeping my back to him and heading for our dining table.
He grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me to face him.
“Good. Luck. With. What?” he asked again, punctuating each word. Maybe he’d already been onto Datcu, and I’d pushed him over the edge.
I purposely averted my eyes. “Um, just something we were talking about. It’s not important.”
Grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket, Sanda pushed me against the wall. I thudded against it, the air squeezing out of my lungs from the impact. He was strong, so much that I felt like a child in the grip of an adult.
Bringing his face close to mine, he repeated the question in a growl of fetid breath that reminded me of spoiled meat. Except I couldn’t answer. I was breathless.
I inhaled deeply a few times “He... was... mad. He—” I surreptitiously slipped the flask Datcu had given me out of my back pocket.
“Get it out!” Sanda said, shaking me. The back of my head hit the wall. Pain radiated down my neck.
I panted a few more times, then told my lie in one breath, “He’s going to challenge Knight Arcos.”
“No, he won’t.” Sanda shook me, then slammed me against the wall once more. I let go of the flask. It clattered to the floor.
The Rook glanced down and frowned. He reluctantly let me go and picked up the flask. Turning it over in his hand, he examined it for a long moment. At last, he uncapped it and sniffed its contents. His attention slowly returned to me.
“Yeh stole from the King?” he said, a satisfied smile twisting his mouth.
“No,” I shook my head. “It wasn’t me. Someone gave it to me.”
“Don’t lie. Yeh must have snatched this flask,” he thought for a moment, “at the masquerade ball. That’s when!” I hadn’t seen anything like the flask at the ball, but maybe Sanda had.
“I’m not lying,” I said.
“Then who gave it to yeh?” he demanded. He pulled back the hand holding the metal flask, threatening to smash it into my face.
I held up my hands and rushed out the words. “No, don’t hit me. It was Datcu. He gave it to me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“So I wouldn’t tell on him,” I said. “He steals it from the supply wagons.”
Sanda let out a guttural snarl.
“He shares with others, not just me.” I had no idea if this was true, but it sounded logical.
The Rook’s face disfigured a bit more, his anger barely contained, like a boulder at the edge of a precipice, teetering and needing only a couple of more shoves to unleash its destruction.
“He don’t share with me,” he said, words barely escaping through the cage of his teeth.
There were voices outside, the others coming in for lunch.
Time for another little shove at the teetering boulder. “He says most are too stupid to notice what he’s been doing for years. He only shares with those he has to.”
Sanda lost it, then. He roared and pulled his fist back, still holding the flask. He moved fast, like an arrow shot from a bow. I dodged to one side. His strike hit the wall behind me, but the flask managed to graze my cheekbone.
I hissed in pain as spirits poured down my shirt.
Sanda pulled back, dropped the flask, and clenched his fists, ready for another attack.
The door opened. Two Pawns followed by Datcu entered the dining hall. They froze as they took in the scene. Rook Datcu’s gaze quickly fell to the flask on the floor. Next, he took in Sanda’s irate expression.
The situation couldn’t have been spelled more clearly. I almost saw Datcu’s metal cogs whirring behind his eyes, almost saw the moment in which he realized his secret was out. Sanda knew.
“What is going on here?” Datcu asked, the question lacking authority and betraying his panic.
“Yeh...” Sanda said in an accusatory tone, forgetting about me and advancing toward the other Rook. “I just found out yeh’re a—”
Lightning fast, Datcu stepped forward and came nose to nose with Sanda.
“Don’t say anything stupid or you’ll regret it,” Datcu said in a low growl that was barely audible.
“Yeh can’t tell me what to do, thief,” Sanda spat.
The Pawns by the door exchanged confused glances.
Datcu pointed a finger at Sanda’s face, nearly poking it into his eye. “Watch it, you pretentious idiot!”
This was it. I had primed Sanda, and Datcu had just delivered the final shove by calling him pretentious.
Sanda’s anger boiled over. Snarling, baring his teeth, and pulling out his claws like a wild animal, he charged. I expected Datcu to retreat, but instead, he stood his ground. They slammed against each other, a boulder against another.
I took several steps back, away from the brawl. Except... there was no brawl. Everything went still, even wild Sanda with all his fury.
Both Rooks stood motionless for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Then, Sanda’s knees buckled, and he began to slide down Datcu’s front, leaving a wide streak of blood behind.
When he finally thudded to the floor, lifeless, I noticed Datcu’s crimson-stained dagger in his hand.
The Rook took a step back, dropping the dagger, and putting on a shocked expression. “Get Knight Arcos and Knight Traian. Quick!” he ordered the Pawns.
Wasting no time, they rushed out the door to do as they were told. Sanda, the man who had twice ruined my life was dead. The spark of satisfaction that flared in my chest scared me, made me wonder for an instant what kind of man I was becoming.
Datcu’s gaze flashed in my direction. “No one crosses me, Pawn,” he said. “It wasn’t his turn to challenge anyone and look what happened.”
A moment ago, I’d believed Datcu had been worried about his secret being discovered, but I was wrong. He didn’t care so much if others found out that he was stealing from the King. He only cared about who would challenge Knight Arcos next. And when he saw Sanda’s wild anger, he immediately took the chance to get rid of a contender.
He looked down at the fallen Rook as if he were a dead dog, then back at me.
“Funny thing is... now you’re next, which is a good thing because I don’t like the game you’re playing. My First Pawn will take care of you.”
What? What was he talking about?
“The Board must be complete,” he said in mocking tone.
I sucked in a breath, realizing his meaning. As I stood frozen, Datcu gestured toward Sanda, then sat on a bench, carefully composing his features into a mask of regret.
“He attacked me,” he said, staring at me with pleading eyes. “I had no choice but to defend myself.”
A cold smile spread across his lips, giving me a glint of his true evil. He’d acted stupid, and I’d bought the act. But he wasn’t stupid at all. I was the one who had played with fire without knowing and had won but had also lost.
I would be forced to fight the Second Quadrant’s First Pawn to determine who would replace Sanda.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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About the Author
Ingrid Seymour is the author of Ignite The Shadows (Harper Voyager, August 2015). When she's not writing books, she spends her time cooking exotic recipes, hanging out with her family and working out. She writes young adult and new adult fiction in a variety of genres, including Sci-Fi, urban fantasy, romance, paranormal and horror. Her favorite outings involve a trip to the library or bookstore where she immediately gravitates toward the YA section. She's an avid reader and fangirl of many amazing books. She is a dreamer and a fighter who believes perseverance and hard work can make dreams come true. She lives in Birmingham, AL with her husband, two kids and a cat named Ossie.
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