“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.”