Queen's Peril

by Darin Kennedy

  This was all about the pouch. Steven cursed himself for a fool. Dammit. Played twice in the same day.

  Steven kept his silence as the Black King shifted his attention in Niklaus’ direction.

  “And now for their Rook.” Zed raised the dark pouch before him. “Door.”

  A fourth portal opened behind Niklaus. From the hole in space, innumerable tendrils of dark energy swept out to enmesh his gleaming marble form.

  “Steven,” Niklaus screamed as he struggled against the shimmering wisps of darkness. “It’s got me.”

  “Hold on, Nik,” Steven shouted.

  “I’ll…try.” As if in answer to Niklaus’ silent cry, the asphalt and stone of the bridge deck again warped beneath Niklaus, melding in an instant with the white marble of his free foot and leg. Though the strain threatened to tear the White Rook in two, the stopgap anchor held.

  “Don’t know how long I can hold on,” Niklaus grunted. “Help me.”

  Steven held tightly to the cool stone of Niklaus’ massive finger and spun around to face the gathered forces of the Black, summoning the shield to his free arm. “Stop it,” he shouted. “Let him go.”

  “As you wish.” Dark energy crackled at the tip of the Queen’s scepter. In response, the asphalt beneath Niklaus’ foot erupted into a miniature volcano of black flame. The explosion sent them both hurtling into the waiting portal of shimmering darkness, the amused glint in Magdalene’s gaze the last thing Steven saw before the hole in space took them.

  Then, darkness.

  “Well that certainly played out as planned.” Magdalene examined the gaping hole her fireball had left in the asphalt. “As you said, my King, like sheep to the slaughter.”

  “In matters of the Game, it helps to know your opponent.” Zed stood at the edge of the bridge, staring down into the waters that moments before claimed the white pouch known as the Hvitr Kyll. “Though I must admit the priest’s message painted an unusually accurate picture of what occurred today. If we ever again cross paths, we must offer him our thanks.”

  At his own words, Zed’s brow furrowed.

  “What is it, sire?” Wahnahtah studied the King as if afraid to speak. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

  “One would think, and yet, something about this seems…wrong.” Zed stroked his dark beard. “Your assessment, my Queen?”

  “They’re gone. We’re here.” Magdalene strode over and brushed her ruby lips playfully across Zed’s. “Simple as that.”

  “Perhaps,” Zed answered, the disquiet in his eyes lingering. “Perhaps.”

  7

  House & Home

  “How’s your ankle?” Steven grabbed a grapefruit, plate, and spoon and sat opposite Niklaus at a small table in the work in progress otherwise known as Ron Springer’s kitchen. “Any better?”

  “Same as yesterday.” Niklaus balled up a fist and knocked twice on the plaster cast that covered his left leg from the knee down. “Hurts like hell, but I can walk on it a little better.”

  “Still can’t believe all they’re giving you is aspirin.” Steven shook his head. “Does that even cut the pain?”

  Niklaus gave a bitter laugh. “About as good as you’d expect.”

  Steven’s stomach rumbled. “Did you eat yet?”

  “A couple hours ago.” Niklaus motioned to the crumb-covered plate at the edge of the table. “Throbbing had me up around sunrise.”

  “It’s been three weeks. I’d hoped it would feel better by now.”

  “Dr. Bolton said this should be the worst of it.” Niklaus forced a smile. “And just like he predicted, the itching is almost worse than the pain.”

  “That’s a good sign, I guess.” Steven quirked his lips to one side. “You’re stuck in a cast for what? Three more weeks?”

  “If I’m lucky.” Niklaus scratched under the edge of his cast. “Dr. Bolton and one of his orthopedic buddies said I had one of the worst ankle fractures they’d ever seen. If the x-rays don’t look good when they cut this one off tomorrow, it might be six.” Niklaus chuckled. “Like you say every day, though: at least I’ve still got a foot.”

  “Ah.” Steven raised his spoon in salute. “There’s the optimist we all know and love.”

  “Morning, boys.” Ron strode into the room and took a seat at the head of the oval table. “You two want the usual eggs and flapjacks?”

  “Sounds good.” Steven took a bite of grapefruit. “I’ll take mine scrambled with cheese.”

  “Over easy.” Niklaus peered around the kitchen. “We have syrup, right?”

  “Picked up the groceries yesterday while you boys were finishing up the storm door.” Ron grabbed a cast iron frying pan down from its hook on the wall. “Grabbed some pork chops for dinner. Is that all right?”

  “Only if you never want us to leave.” Niklaus shifted in his seat. “Thanks, Ron.”

  “In fact…” Steven joined Ron in the kitchen “Let me give you a hand.”

  He handed Steven an old apron. “Much obliged.”

  An Army cook in his younger days, Ron showed his appreciation for Steven and Niklaus’ efforts daily by feeding them like kings. Steven wasn’t sure how much weight he’d put on since coming to stay with former Staff Sergeant Springer, but his well-worn jeans were certainly fitting tighter than he remembered.

  “We’ll need to take care of this again later today.” Steven leaned across the puddle forming around Ron’s old Frigidaire and retrieved a carton of eggs. “How many more days?”

  Ron groaned. “God only knows.”

  Around Homestead, linemen were restoring power block by block, but progress remained slow. Three weeks in, Ron, Steven, and Niklaus were still working by candlelight and gas lamp after sunset and cramming as much as possible into each rapidly shrinking mid-October day. They’d converted Ron’s refrigerator into an actual icebox and obtained a block of ice from town every day or two to keep the food cool. The power company had promised to get the electricity on Ron’s street back up by the end of the week, but they had said the same the week before.

  And the week before that.

  The puddle, at least for the moment, remained a necessary evil.

  “Thank God for gas.” Ron lit the stove and set the cast iron pan atop the flame. “So, what are you boys up for today?”

  “We were thinking about taking the day off and checking out the rest of town.” Steven handed Ron the carton of eggs. “Might end up at that coral castle place you’ve been talking about. The house is finally back in reasonable shape, and it looks like the weather might cooperate for a change.” Steven rested a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “Care to get out of the house, maybe shuttle us around for a couple of hours? That is if Dorota isn’t planning to drop by today.”

  Ron cleared his throat. “You know as well as I do she’s coming by tomorrow morning for a big Sunday breakfast with the three of us.”

  Steven smiled at the knowledge even Ron Springer’s leathered cheeks could still blush a bit. The kind woman from the hospital waiting room had come calling once or twice weekly and always arrived with a picnic basket filled with one or more Polish treats: pierogi dumplings filled with cabbage for lunch, gołąbki cabbage rolls stuffed with minced meat for dinner, pączki pastries filled with sweet fruit for dessert. For Niklaus, her visits always brought a smile as the food and company reminded him of home and Dorota so much of his grandmother. Steven appreciated the visits as well, as they took his mind off the disaster in New York, the impossible situation in which they were trapped, and the crippling panic that filled his heart every time Audrey’s face flitted through his mind.

  No one, however, enjoyed the visits more than Ron.

  “Anyway, you want to go meet Old Ed, eh?” The older man picked up an egg and studied it as he worked to change the subject. “I’d be happy to take you. Been meaning to go check in on the old codger anyway and see how he’s getting along.” With an efficiency borne from decades of practice, he cracked the brown egg and half a dozen more into the well-
worn cast iron pan and mixed the yolks and whites with a wire whisk. “Can’t imagine he’s had a ton of visitors the last few weeks, what with the storm and everything.”

  “Sounds good. What say we head out after breakfast, maybe beat the heat?”

  A flutter at Steven’s chest drew his attention. He reached into his front shirt pocket and withdrew Amaryllis from her customary refuge.

  Days had passed since Steven had given the dragonfly pendant so much as a passing thought and over three weeks since the first mention of Edward Leedskalnin had prompted the still-healing bruise just below Steven’s left collarbone. He had hoped to wait until Niklaus’ ankle fully recovered before pursuing the potential lead, but the insistent beating of the dragonfly’s wings let him know the time for waiting was over.

  “All right, Amaryllis.” Steven kept his voice low as he returned the bejeweled dragonfly to her cotton cave. “Let’s go see what this Leedskalnin guy has to say.”

  “We’re closed.” A dour-faced Edward Leedskalnin stood before the enormous revolving door that served as the main entrance to his castle of grey stone. No more than five feet in height, the man’s presence far exceeded his size. His accent reminded Steven a little of Niklaus’. “In case you haven’t noticed, a hurricane just tore this town apart.”

  “Come on, Ed.” Ron’s lips spread wide in a toothy smile. “You can’t tell me a couple of guests wouldn’t do your disposition some good.”

  Leedskalnin’s frown held for just a moment longer before his face broke into a half grin. “Do I smell biscuits?”

  “Fresh out of the oven.” Ron held up a wicker basket in one hand and a red thermos in the other. “Brought coffee too.”

  “In that case, come inside.” Leedskalnin turned and rested his palm against the eight-foot high slab of coral. “Anyone bringing breakfast is worth a moment or two of my time.” At his touch, the door spun on its axis as if it were made of paper mâché.

  “How is that possible?” Steven whispered to Niklaus as they approached the door. “That door’s got to weigh—”

  “Around three tons,” Leedskalnin interrupted, a sparkle in his eye. “You should see the back door.” The diminutive man held open the perfectly balanced monolith and offered a slight bow, allowing Ron, Steven, and Niklaus room to pass. “Welcome to Rock Gate Park.”

  Niklaus and Steven passed beneath the eight-foot arch and into the castle proper and shared an awestruck glance. Impressive from the outside, the engineering required for the interior exceeded anything either of them had ever seen. According to Ron, Leedskalnin claimed to have quarried, carved, and placed every stone in the park alone without the aid of anything more than his truck and some very basic tools, a feat that seemed impossible.

  “You built all of this yourself?” Steven’s gaze flicked from one enormous hunk of coral to the next. “By hand?”

  “It’s not hard,” Leedskalnin answered with smile, “if you know how.” He led them toward a grotto comprised of a circle of coral chairs and benches surrounding a rectangular table.

  “Now.” Leedskalnin sat in one of the coral chairs and motioned to one of the benches. “Sit. Let’s have those biscuits.”

  Ron set the basket down on the stone table and peeled open the red and white-checkered cloth within as Steven and Niklaus took seats around the enormous stone table. The twin smells of fresh baked bread and melted butter filled the air.

  Leedskalnin grabbed a biscuit and a small knife from the basket. “Jam?”

  “Just some strawberry preserves.” Ron produced a small jar from the basket and handed it to Leedskalnin. “Marjorie’s recipe.”

  The man licked his lips greedily. “That will do nicely.”

  As the four of them gorged themselves on the products of Ron’s morning labor, Steven took in the sights. Straight ahead, a forty-foot-high obelisk at least twenty tons in weight pointed skyward, an homage to agent Egypt. The far corner wall supported a miniature solar system complete with a pair of crescent moons resembling a mismatched pair of lobster claws. In the opposite corner, Leedskalnin’s dwelling place dominated the area just inside the revolving door, though its narrow entrance and single slit window connoted a prison cell more than a home.

  “So, you…live here?” Steven asked.

  “Many men have built their own homes from scratch,” Leedskalnin answered. “I simply prefer to work with sturdier materials.” He studied Steven’s features. “I’m curious. What brings you three out today? Visitors have been pretty scarce since the storm.”

  “We’re from out of town and stuck in Homestead for the foreseeable future.” Niklaus poured himself a cup of coffee. “We’ve been helping Ron get his house back in order for the last few weeks.”

  “He’s been telling us this place is a must see.” And the magical dragonfly in my pocket told us to check it out. “I must say, this place is pretty impressive. How did you manage to—”

  “Don’t even bother.” Ron shook his head. “Ed would sooner give up one of his legs than reveal how he put this place together.”

  Leedskalnin’s lips turned up in a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say I understand the laws of weight and leverage better than most people.” He looked on Niklaus with a discerning eye. “I get the impression your friend here knows what I’m talking about.” Steven’s eyes shot to Niklaus who looked just as surprised at the strange comment.

  “You’re German, I’m guessing?” their odd host asked Niklaus.

  “My mother,” Niklaus answered, “thus the name.” A wistful sigh passed his lips. “My father, though, is all Polish. I spent my childhood in Krakow and came to the US for university a decade ago. These days, I claim Atlanta as my home.”

  “As I have found my place here in Homestead.” Leedskalnin narrowed his eyes at Niklaus. “And your family? Did they survive the Nazi invasion?”

  Niklaus considered for a moment before answering. “They fled the country and are safe.”

  He patted Niklaus’ hand. “That is good to hear, my friend.”

  “So, Mr. Leedskalnin,” Niklaus asked. “Why a castle in the middle of Florida?”

  “Please, call me Edward.” He took a deep breath in through his nose. “My doctors advised me to move here many years ago, and they were wise to do so. Seems my lungs prefer the warmer climes these days.” He gestured to the coral walls surrounding them. “As for the castle, allow me to ask you a simple question, young man. Have you ever been in love?”

  “Once.” Niklaus flushed. “It didn’t work out so well.”

  “I thought I sensed a kindred spirit.” Leedskalnin’s eyes glazed over. “My love’s name was Agnes. We were to be married many years ago, but she left me on the eve of our wedding. She thought me too old for her and, though she never admitted it out loud, too poor. After that, nothing remained for me in Latvia…so I came to America.”

  “So, this castle,” Steven asked, “it’s all for her?”

  “Initially.” Leedskalnin swept his arms wide. “I began this project to commemorate what I’d lost, but as the structure began to grow in size and scope, it became my masterpiece, a fitting tribute to lost love and a fortress where I could never be hurt again.” He shot an earnest glance at Niklaus. “Sound familiar, my friend?”

  Niklaus lowered his head but didn’t say a word.

  “You feeling well, Ed?” Ron’s expression had grown progressively more puzzled as the conversation progressed. “All this talk of lost loves and the like doesn’t seem quite like you.”

  “These men aren’t the usual visitors.” Leedskalnin turned back to Niklaus. “I felt the need to build something. Something that would last, you know? Exist long after I was gone. Stretch across time. You understand exactly of what I speak, don’t you, young man?”

  Niklaus raised his head from his chest, his eyes expressing without a word he knew all too well what Leedskalnin was trying to impart.

  More importantly, the words triggered a memory in Steven that set his heart racing.


  Something that would last. That would stretch across time.

  Like…a photograph.

  Steven excused himself and motioned for Niklaus to join him, leaving Ron and Edward alone at the coral table.

  “What is it?” Niklaus asked. “I think I was getting somewhere with the old man.”

  “Don’t worry. I think I know why we’re here, and though it’s a long shot, I think I know how to get us home.” Steven let out an incredulous laugh. “He knew. Dammit, he knew all along.” His eyes narrowed. “And he didn’t tell me.”

  “What are you talking about, Steven?” Niklaus raised an eyebrow. “Who knew what?”

  “Grey. He knew this was going to happen. Knew we’d be sent back in time. That’s why…” Steven’s stroked his chin, his grin growing bigger by the moment. “Okay. We’ll need to pack a few things. Get a couple bus passes. We can do this.”

  “What?” Niklaus asked. “Where are we going?”

  Steven’s strange grin blossomed into a full-on smile, growing all the wider at the buzz of fluttering metallic wings in his shirt pocket. “I may be dead wrong about this, but it looks like we’re heading back to New York.”

  Steven and Niklaus took a couple of days helping Ron Springer get his house and life back in order before heading north. Winter drew closer every day, and they wanted to be established in New York long before the weather turned cold. Plus, with Dorota’s visits growing more frequent, they were clearly leaving the man in good hands. On their last day, they allowed him to cook them one last cholesterol-laden breakfast before driving them to the bus station.

  “Now, you boys be careful, you hear?” he called from the window of his truck. “And don’t go getting in any more trouble. I won’t be there to bail you out in the big city.”

  Steven smiled and shook his head. If a better person than Ron Springer walked the earth, he hadn’t met them. At times, he reminded Steven a lot of his father. A trusting man, he’d never once questioned their dubious story about the circumstances leading to them being in Florida, a benefit of the doubt they’d never be able to repay.