Her words catch me with the tips of my toes on the edge. I freeze in place and ask her, “How do you know that?”
“I designed it!” Fabiola says. “It lets you reach out your sword to kill your opponent, but never lets you out unless it’s your turn in the game.”
“Then what’s the point of all this?” I wonder.
Fabiola hesitates, readying her Vorpal sword. “He wants to trick you into winning the game.”
“Trick me?”
“He is using you to win the battle on the chessboard because he knows you’ll be willing to save me, and if you do win, something big happens, something he’s been waiting for all these years.”
“Let me guess,” I say, “If I win, Carroll’s Knight will be found?”
Fabiola nods.
“So give him the stupid knight, if it will save us!” The Queen of Hearts jumps up and down in her place upon the black block, her glass box is open as well now. “Give him whatever he wants or he will kill us!”
“Shut up,” Margaret yells at the Queen from her position at the far corner. “You short little stocky ball of evil.”
“I will chop your head off when I survive this,” the Queen warns Margaret.
“Stop it!” I yell. “Both of you! Maybe it’s time we all stand on the same side, or we’ll die and the Chessmaster will get his knight. And who knows what he can do with it?”
“Well said, Alice,” the Queen remarks. “Why not start with you playing on the side you’re supposed to?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re on the white tiles. You don’t belong there. Stop pretending. The Pillar messed with your head,” the Queen insists. “Come over, honey. Come join the Queen.”
I find myself turning and looking at Fabiola. Her look is blank and I can’t read it.
“What do you think, White Queen?” I ask her. “Do you still think I belong to the black side?”
“I don’t have an idea who you really are anymore,” Fabiola says. “All I’m sure of is that I will kill you if you cross over to the Queen of Hearts.”
“Gosh, Fabiola,” I sigh. “What made you so cruel? You’re confusing me. One minute you urge me not to fall into the Chessmaster’s trick, and the next you promise to kill me if I cross over.”
“I’ve dedicated my life to this war, Alice,” Fabiola argues. “Sometimes I don’t see people with emotion and hearts before me; all I see is black or white; Inklings or Black Chess. If you were my mother and joined Black Chess, I swear I would kill you.”
“Don’t cross over, Alice,” Margaret says.
“Why do you say that?” I didn’t expect that coming from her.
“It’s a dark place where I stand now,” Margaret says. “I have my reasons, but trust me, being on the dark side might grant you influence, fame, and so much money you can walk on it, but you will never sleep good at night.”
“Then why don’t you cross over, Margaret?” I ask.
“I’m so deep in the mud of corruption, there is no out for me,” she says. “And though I urge you not to cross over, it doesn’t mean I won’t kill you if you cross over.”
“That’s just amazing.” I wave my hands up high, astonished by their logic. “Everyone seems to want to kill me today.”
“Including me,” the Chessmaster laughs in the speakers. “Now let’s skip this clichéd pool of drama and have a good battle on the chessboard.”
“What do you have in mind?” I ask.
“I will stop the electrical field now, and the white army will have to fight the black.”
“That is crazy,” I retort. “I might die. Fabiola might die, and then you will never get your knight.”
“You will not die Alice, not by the black army, neither will Fabiola, and do you know why?” the Chessmaster asks. “Because you two come from the dark side. You know how to kill and win. You Alice, are like the bravest of soldiers, a perfect pawn and killing machine. It will all come down to you. And once you win, the chessboard will reveal the whereabouts of Carroll’s Knight.”
“I know I come from the dark side,” I tell him, “but Fabiola?”
The Chessmaster’s laugh echoes louder. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Can’t you see the tattoos on her arms?” he says, and I find myself glancing back at Fabiola. “You think those were from the days of her being a fierce warrior and White Queen in Wonderland?”
I turn to Fabiola with quizzical eyes.
“I’m like you,” she tells me, sounding ashamed. “I was Black Chess once.”
All hell freezes over in my head. It’s impossible to even grasp what she’s just said.
“Why do you think I want to kill you?” she says. “Not just because of what you did back in Wonderland, or what you’re still capable of doing, but because I fight the temptation every day. The temptation to return to Black Chess.”
“That’s so touching,” the Chessmaster says. “This scene is better than any Hollywood movie I’ve watched, but hey, it’s time for more blood spilling upon the chessboard.”
And just like that, the electrical field is disabled. Fabiola runs toward me and we stand back-to-back, ready for the arriving army of black, led by the Queen of Hearts.
Chapter 61
Underground Kitchen, Oxford University
“Here!” Chopin the Chopper handed Tom a kitchen knife. “Slice those carrots for me.”
“Seriously?” Tom said, taking the knife.
“If you want valuable information then you have to help me,” Chopin said. “Finish the carrots, then onto the onion. I will tell you what I know as we cook.”
“I hate onions. They make me cry,” Tom argued.
“Wahhhh?” Chopin made a mocking baby face. “Do they make you cry, honey?”
Tom clenched his fists. “Why isn’t Inspector Dormouse helping then?”
“You sound like a child now,” Chopin said. “The Inspector falls asleep every couple of minutes. He could hurt himself. I did it once, see?” he shows his hand, which is missing a finger. “Chopped it off while working late at night one day because I was getting sleepy.”
“Ouch.” Tom steps back from the missing finger. “What did you do with the finger?”
“Shoved it into the carrot soup. Looked like a paler carrot, but did the job,” Chopin says. “Now, where do you want me to start with the Fourteen’s story?”
“Why are they called the Fourteen?” Inspector Dormouse was alert enough to ask.
“Because there are Fourteen members in their little circle of trust,” Chopin said.
“I thought only The Pillar and twelve men attended,” Tom argued.
“First of all, The Pillar wasn’t part of the fourteen members,” Chopin said. “He was like the head of the community; taking care of their needs and organizing the meetings.”
“Okay,” Tom said. “Then according to you, there are still two members missing of the Fourteen.”
“Of course,” Chopin chopped up some cucumbers fiercely, enjoying it too much; like a serial killer chopping off his victim’s body parts. “Two members never showed up.”
“How do you know about them then?” Inspector Dormouse asked.
“They talked about them. The Pillar mostly. He had a great interest in finding the other two,” Chopin said.
“Are you saying the twelve who were there weren’t interested in finding the other two?”
“The twelve’s main job in the meeting was to track the other two. Pillar’s orders.”
“So those meetings were organized to look for the missing two?” Tom asked.
“Part of it,” Chopin said. “The twelve had some kind of deal previously arranged with The Pillar. Some kind of a grand plan that I will get into in a minute, because it’s really bonkers. For now, let me tell you about who the other two were.”
“I’m listening,” Tom said. Inspector Dormouse was already snoring and Tom wondered if the three of them were the worst bunch of men acting like detectives ever.