“So changing their names was part of the deal?” Tom asked.
“Don’t you get it?” Dormouse said. “This whole deal was about the Fourteen keeping the secret and changing their names at a certain time so the secret dies with them, except that The Pillar broke this deal and, for some reason, had to get rid of them.”
“Probably because he sensed they’d expose him,” Tom said. “But what in God’s name was the deal?”
“I think I know,” Chopin said, putting the knife down, looking agitated. “Look, I’m not sure I heard this right, but since you seem to be stuck I have to tell you.”
“Speak up,” Tom demanded.
Chopin minded the wound on his newly chopped finger, making sure he wasn’t bleeding anymore, and tucked his lost finger into his pocket — for a later carrot soup, probably. “I don’t believe in magic or spirits or all these things, but here is what I once overheard.”
“Just say it,” Tom said.
“I heard the Fourteen once joke that they sold their souls to the devil.”
Chapter 66
Chess City, Kalmykia
The Chessmaster’s men usher me toward a building decorated in Buddhist ornaments and architecture. It’s one of the most memorable buildings in Chess City. No one says a word to me.
Inside, a few Tibetan women help me take a bath and put on better, clean clothes. They take care of my nails and hair, but they don’t speak my language, so I don’t know what’s going on.
I have no choice but to go along, since the Chessmaster, though having found what he wanted, refused to release the world leaders.
“You and I, Alice, we have one last chess game to play,” these were his words. “I want you to look good for the end of either your life or mine.”
One of the women brings me a chessboard, books about chess, and DVDs about the Chessmaster’s previous games. This one, unlike the others, speaks English.
“Why those?” I ask.
“You need to prepare yourself,” she says. “The Chessmaster has never lost a game. He even won the game with…”
“God, I know, and I don’t care about all of this propaganda. I don’t have any idea how to play chess.”
“Then you will die,” she grins happily.
“Is he seriously intent on playing a final chess game with me?” I ask. “A real game of chess? I thought it was a metaphor.”
“The Chessmaster loves chess. It’s his life, and just so you know, there is a prophecy about you and him playing the last chess game in the world.”
“I know about the stupid prophecy. I read it in some ancient note,” I say. “But this is ridiculous. He knows I will lose.”
“If you lose, people will die, the world will end, too.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I cough, almost chortling. “Are you saying I’m playing that same game he killed the Pope with?”
“And all the other world leaders,” she remarks. “He has killed a few more in the last few hours and put more cities to sleep. They say Oxford and London will be put to sleep next.”
“I have to see the Chessmaster and talk to him. He needs to know I can’t play chess. Whatever happened between us in the past, there must be another way to solve it.”
“No other way. Win or lose,” she says. “Remember, after every move you drink a small cup of poison. The poison makes you dizzy and doesn’t kill you until your seventh move. If you can’t beat the Chessmaster before this one, you will die. Thank you very much.”
Chapter 67
The Last Chess Game, Chess City, Kalmykia
The auditorium they send me to has bright lights, almost blinding, focused on two chairs with a table in the middle and a chess board upon it. Carroll’s chessboard; with pieces made of his bones.
Walking onto the stage, I hear murmurs and heavy breathing from the audience, but it’s too dark to see them. This intimidates me even more.
I’m asked to sit on my chair, creepily tagged with the words: ‘Alice: Loser.’
It looks more like a gravestone, not a chair to sit on and play chess. But I have no choice and take my place.
In front of me, I realize I will be playing with the black pieces. The Chessmaster with the white. I’m not sure what’s going on.
Why is the Chessmaster playing with white chess pieces?
Then my eyes catch a strange sighting. One of the white pieces, specifically the white knight, is missing. It’s the only piece that’s missing on the whole board. I’m assuming this is where Carroll’s Knight is supposed to be.
But I am not catching the meaning behind it.
On both sides of the chessboard I see seven small cups, filled with that poison Tibetan woman mentioned. I swallow hard. Will I really drink seven cups and die today?
A few tight breaths later, the unseen crowd applauds. Cocking my head, I see the Chessmaster arrive.