by Cameron Jace
35
Tibet
“It’s a rook.” I grip it and show it to the Pillar.
“The second piece of the puzzle,” the Pillar says. “I bet you can unscrew it open.”
“I can.” I am still looking at the mysterious piece. “Is this also made of Lewis’s bones?”
“Without a doubt.”
“You think it will lead us to Carroll’s Knight?”
“Eventually.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember when I told you I think I know what’s going on with the Chessmaster, back in the tomb in Marostica?” the Pillar says.
But before we have a chance to discuss his theory, I realize the monks are surrounding us from all directions.
“What’s going on, Xian?” I ask the old man.
“I believe Cao Pao Wong knows.” Xian hides behind the Deep Blue machine.
The monks look angry now, balling fists against fists, making creepy faces, and murmuring angry words I can’t understand.
“Pillar?” I say worriedly.
“Do you still know None Fu, Alice?” the Pillar asks, taking a strange martial arts position, reminding me of Kermit the Frog.
“Why are you asking?” I say.
The answer materializes in the monks readying themselves in warrior positions. All at once. They’re mastering the hardest position I once saw in Jack’s None Fu book.
“I hope you can deal with orange belts in None Fu.” The Pillar shrugs, taking a None Fu position himself now.
“I have reached the highest levels in the future, but right now I think I still am a blue belt.”
“Blue belt isn’t good enough,” the Pillar says. “Orange belts will kick your sorry little butt in the air, somersault you, and lay you down on a sword.”
“So what are we going to do? Why do the monks want to kill us? Don’t tell me it’s because of the visa.”
“Part of it,” the Pillar says. “They must’ve realized I played them.”
“Which makes it time to tell me what you were doing here before.”
“I know why he was here before.” Xian raises a hand from behind the machine.
“Speak up, Xian,” I demand.
“Cao Pao Wong is—I mean was our…”
“Your what?”
“None Fu master,” Xian exclaims. “He taught the village the art of None Fu years ago, so we could face our enemies.”
“You know None Fu?” I glare at the Pillar.
“Used to. Frankly, I can’t None Fu anything at the moment.”
“You forgot None Fu?” Xian is shocked for the hundredth time. “That’s impossible.”
“Stick with me, Xian.” I steady myself and breathe, eyes on the slowly approaching monks. “Why would they want to kill us if Cao Pao Wong was their None Fu master?” I am not accepting answers from the Pillar at the moment.
“Because it turned out not to be None Fu,” Xian says.
“Don’t confuse the fu out of me, Xian. I am not following.”
“I needed money, and I was lost in the snow, being hunted down by an old enemy of mine,” the Pillar says. “I needed the monks to trust me and help me travel out of this frozen land, so I played them and taught them None Fu.”
“Which wasn’t really None Fu,” Xian elaborates, scratching his head. “When the monks used his technique against the wolves threatening our families each winter, they all died. That’s why the Pillar shaved his head; so they wouldn’t recognize him. He had hair then.”
“That’s why.” I sigh. “Why am I not surprised?” I tell the Pillar.
One of the monks approaches me and speaks in English. “None of this is why we’re going to kill you.”
“Your accent is great.” The Pillar flashes a thumbs-up. “Pretty sure you’ll get the visa.”
“Shut up,” the orange monk says. “We know you fooled us, but we’re civilized and forgiving people.”
“That’s definitely a bonus for getting the visa with today’s hostility and terrorism.” The Pillar doesn’t stop. “America’s big on forgiveness—and mac and cheese, of course.”
“I told you to shut up,” the monk roars. “We’ll kill you because we’ve been waiting for someone to solve and open the machine and find the chess piece for years.”
“Now that’s truly civilized,” I scoff.
“She is badass, by the way.” The Pillar points at me. “You really don’t want to mess with her. She’s escaped an asylum. Killed her friends, her boyfriend, and a man who did nothing but sell muffins. She is brutal. A killing machine. No conscience at all. I dare you: if you can, kill her first.”
“Pillar!” I clench my fists.
“No need for games,” the monk says. “Hand us the chess piece or die.”
“You mean we won’t die if we hand it over?” I ask.
“No, you will die either way.” The monk shakes his head. “I just see them say it like that in the movies.”
Suddenly, the Pillar panics and stares at something in the sky behind the monks. “Look!” He points with all the fear of the world in his eyes. “A flying Buddha!”
“Really?” The monks turn for a second, and the Pillar kicks one of them unconscious, then another.
The monks are still looking upward, and I wonder what’s so interesting about a flying Buddha, if there was ever one.
The Pillar flattens the two unconscious men on their stomach, and pushes them near a steep, snowy slope, then sits upon one. “Sit on yours,” he says. “Time to ski. Kinda.”
I do, but the other monks have already figured out the Pillar’s silly Buddha trick. They start trotting after us in the snow.
The Pillar and I are already gliding down the slope of snow, too fast.
“We’ll get you, Cao Pao Wong!” the monks scream behind us.
“Villains always say that at the end of movies,” the Pillar shouts back. “It never works, even if there’s a sequel.”
36
Margaret Kent’s office, Westminster Palace
“I want to know the connection between Fabiola’s poisoning and the white queen chess piece, right now.” Margaret rapped on her desk.
Carolus shrugged, but the Cheshire didn’t. He had possessed a rabbit now. Enough with the politicians and humans, he’d thought. A talking rabbit amused him much more.
“We’re on it, Duchess,” Carolus said. “But it’s really hard to find a plausible connection.”
“I don’t take no for answer,” Margaret said. “This is too mysterious. I need to know what the Chessmaster is up to.”
“I say he is up to end the world as we know it,” the Cheshire said. His voice was squeaky and he sniffed between words. His rabbit nose was running as if he had the flu, and his eyes were funny. He stared at everything in such excitement as if it were a miracle, especially the carrot in front of him.
“I didn’t permit you to speak, Cheshire,” Margaret roared.
“As you wish, Duchess. Carrots?” he offered. “Good for the temper—and ugly women.”
“I thought they were good for the eyes,” Carolus said.
“I can’t speak because the Duchess told me not to,” the Cheshire said.
“But you are speaking,” Carolus argued.
“I could stop speaking if you stop asking.” The Cheshire grinned with the rabbit’s mouth, which was creepy.
“Stop it!” Margaret said, reading a message she’d just received on her mobile phone. “I’m told the Pillar and Alice are in China. They found a second piece, part of the puzzle.”
“China!” the Cheshire said. “Never had Chinese carrots.”
Margaret dismissed him. “The next piece is a rook,” she told Carolus.
“A rook?” Carolus asked. “And a white queen. Hmmm, I have no idea what this means.”
“Neither do I,” Margaret began, but then she suddenly felt ill and clutched her stomach.
“You pregnant?” The Cheshire chewed on his carrot.
“She
looks ill,” Carolus said.
Margaret had lost her speech. The pain inside her was too strong and sudden. She reached out, but the Cheshire gripped tighter to the carrot and refused to share. She reached out to Carolus and he stuck his head forward, wondering if this was some kind of dance.
Margaret dropped speechless on the floor with a thud.
“Is she dead?” Carolus said.
“I think she was poisoned.” The Cheshire puffed the carrot like a pipe. “In fact, I think what happened to Fabiola just happened to her, too.”
“Are you saying Fabiola’s poisoning has something to do with them finding the white queen?” The Cheshire shook his rabbit’s foot. “And Margaret’s poisoning has something to do with them finding the rook?”
37
Tibet
As we glide all the way down to the bottom of the snow, all kinds of questions present themselves. What’s really going on? Why are we supposed to find Carroll’s Knight, and why does the Chessmaster need it? Most of all, who is the Chessmaster?
I end up hitting a bump in the snow and skewing to the right, where I hit into the Pillar. Both of us hang on to each other, balling up like a huge snowball that is rolling deeper into the pit of the hill.
The way down reminds me of my journey with the Pillar. We’re both unusual people with secrets only a few people know about—me with what’s still locked in my memory, and the Pillar with whatever grand plan he has in store for me and himself.
But in any case, and even when he proves more each minute to be a mad person, I am stuck with him, just like we’re stuck now. Not because I can’t do it any other way, but because behind the masquerade of being a one-in-a-million nutty professor, I am sure he always has my back.
Speaking of backs, I almost crushed mine as we come to a sudden stop.
“Better than a Disney roller coaster,” the Pillar comments, standing up.
The monks at the top of the hill stand in a circle, too scared to follow us down. As much as we’ve escaped them, I don’t see how we’re going to get out of here.
“We’re trapped down here,” I say.
“Pretty much.” He looks around. “Too bad gravity doesn’t allow people to fall up. Why do we all have to fall down and never up? I never understood.”
“Why would anyone want to fall up?” I smack the snow off my clothes.
“Are you kidding me? Fall up to the stars, to the skies. I’d love to fall up in another life.”
“Whatever.” I put my hands on my waist. “So, since we might never get out of here, at least tell me what your theory is.”
“What theory?”
“You said you thought you understood what was going on with the Chessmaster when we were up there.”
“Ah, that. Look, it seems like we’re not just on a journey to find Carroll’s Knight.”
“Then what?”
“We’re collecting chess pieces, one by one, and the last will probably be Carroll’s Knight.”
“Sounds plausible. Are you suggesting we’re collecting Carroll’s whole set, the one he had Fabiola make from his bones?”
“I assume so. And since Fabiola can’t tell us what it was for, we’ll have to struggle with finding out why.”
“Are you sure Fabiola doesn’t know the Chessmaster?”
“No, I am not, but how can I be sure?”
“Are you sure you don’t know who the Chessmaster is?”
“Other than the rumor that they say his name is Vozchik Stolb, no, nothing.”
“It’s a Russian name, right?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure what it means.”
“Do you think we’re really going to look for all the chess pieces?”
“Not all, or it will take us forever.” The Pillar tries to make out what the monks’ shouts mean. “I believe we’re collecting the major pieces. Queen, king, rook, bishop, pawn, and knight. One of each.”
There is a thud somewhere nearby, and the monks’ voices pitch higher.
“What are they saying?” I ask the Pillar.
“Giant,” the Pillar says. “The giant is coming.”
And that’s when a door in the snowy mountain’s side slides open and a huge man appears.
38
The giant man has thick, hairy skin, like an ape. He is seven or eight feet tall. His eyebrows are as thick as the bushy hair on his chest. He only wears shorts, and the diameter of his leg is the breadth of me and the Pillar combined. His hand is huge.
“Sorry we woke you up,” the Pillar says.
“You know him?” I clamp my back against the wall.
“No, and I don’t want to.”
It’s clear to me that the giant has his eyes on the Pillar. Each thud in the snow shakes the place all around us. Snowflakes sprinkle off the earth and into the air.
“So the monks had a plan B,” I say.
“Plan death, I’d say.” The Pillar apparently has no means to fight with the speechless giant. “I’d start climbing up if I were you, Alice.”
“And leave you here?”
“Climb up or die. One of us has to distract him. Go.”
It’s not like there is an easy way to climb up, but I get the Pillar’s concern. I don’t even have a chance to use my None Fu with the giant.
Then something out of this world happens.
“Hit me,” the Pillar says to the giant.
“Are you crazy?” I say.
“Hit me, you big, ugly cannonball!”
The giant accepts the invitation and lashes the back of his arm into the Pillar, who flies through the air and then thuds against the snow wall to the left.
“Stop it, Pillar. Don’t encourage him. I’m sure you can trick him with your smooth tongue.”
The Pillar doesn’t listen to me. “Is that all you’ve got?” he sneers at the big man.
Another lash, to the right this time. The way the Pillar slides down from the wall after this is almost like a cartoon.
Blood spatters on the snow and the Pillar pulls himself up, stretches his neck, and says, “Try a better one.”
I can’t believe my eyes as the giant punches the Pillar for the third time. This time he almost buries him an inch deeper into the snow.
The Pillar spits out the blood and grins. “Not so hard, stupid,” he tells the giant. “You don’t want to kill me. You want to have fun with me.”
The silent giant grimaces, not sure why he shouldn’t want to kill the Pillar.
“Because let’s face it. You’re a giant schmuck living alone in this hole in the ground. You’re lonely and have no one to talk to. Your IQ is probably lower than the temperature, so why kill me right away when you can have a good time doing it slower?”
The giant grins, liking the idea and begins a series of small hits at the Pillar.
I try to talk him out of it, but he insists I climb up. And right there, when I don’t know how to do it, a rope dangles down for me, and I cling to it.
“Typical of Hollywood movies,” I mumble. “To have a deus ex machina save you in the last minute.”
The Pillar is still being hit, for the seventh time, I believe, and someone is pulling the rope up. I hope it’s not the monks, because why would they want to help me?
I feel guiltier as I am being lifted up, leaving the Pillar behind. Am I really going to let him die?
Then a terrible thought suddenly hits me. “Pillar!” I scream while being lifted up. “Who is it who is going to kill you in the future?”
The Pillar cranes his neck for a brief moment. Amidst all the punching he is suffering, his eyes speak the truth to me. I get it now. I understand why he visited the hospice instead of facing his killer. “Don’t tell me it’s me who’s going to kill you.”
The Pillar smiles and slightly nods as if he doesn’t want to tell me but has to. “And now I know how.”
Above me, the monks’ voices are absent, and the thin beam of sunlight seems like a dagger of light killing me. I decide to let go of the rope and jum
p down and help the Pillar. “If you think I’d kill you by leaving you to die by the hands of the giant, you’re mistaken.” I spit snow from my mouth. “The future can be changed. I am never going to kill you.”
But right then, when I’m about to jump back down, a firm hand pulls me up. I resist, craning my head up. “Let go of me,” I cry.
But then I realize I can’t fight this grip, because it’s the kind of hand that’s too strong for me. It’s the Dude’s hand that grips me tightly.
39
“Leave me alone!” I shout at the Dude in the Red outfit, but his grip is like a steel chain. “I have to save the Pillar.”
In his silence, as usual, the Dude passes me another note, and I am already fed up with those: It’s his time. Leave him be.
“No, I won’t,” I say, still trying to find my way back down, but a swirl of winding snow has already covered the hole below and I can’t see anything.
Another note: It’s the price you will have to pay for saving Jack.
I turn and glare at him. “How do you know about Jack?”
It doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that’s part of the laws of time-traveling. If you cheat time and save Jack, time will demand an equal sacrifice.
“What does that mean?”
Time will take the Pillar’s life for Jack’s, Alice, and there is nothing you can do about it.
“The hell with time!”
You don’t know what you’re talking about. Time is the one thing that lasts while we all die eventually.
“But why should I be the one to kill the Pillar?”
Because you’re the one who saved Jack. Cheat time and enjoy a dear person’s resurrection, but pay the price and live with another dear person’s loss.