by Cameron Jace
“You knew there was a giant in the hole? I can’t believe it.”
“Was worth it,” he says. “Because after I killed him, I found this in his cave.” He shows me the third missing piece. I can’t make out what it is with him gripping onto it.
“And that third piece say we’ve got to go Kalmykia?”
He nods, a wide, broad, and magnificently childish smile on his face. “A new adventure, baby.” It’s like he’s not been hit to death a while ago. It’s like he isn’t in pain or dripping blood or having his cloths torn up. It’s like we’re not inside a ridiculous balloon in the middle of nowhere, racing against time to save the world. The Pillar is just happy we’re going to Kalmykia.
“What’s in Kalmykia, Pillar?”
“A most beautiful city, like you’ve never seen before,” he raises his clenched hand in the air. “But first, guess what the piece in my hand is, Alice.”
“Stop being childish. I’m not guessing. Just tell me.”
“Come on, Alice. It’s not like we don’t have time to kill until we get there?” he points at the vast nowhere we’re flying above. “You know how many people have embarked balloons and never found their way back down? Guess the piece in my hand.”
I have to give it to him. He is full of life. He just doesn’t care about our human worries. He just lives every moment as if it’s his last. I wonder if that’s because he thinks I am going to kill him soon, or if that’s just the irritable Pillar.
“Okay,” I say, finding myself giving into his joyful spirit, and forgetting about all the blood on his hands. “It’s a Bishop.”
“Wrong.” He winks. “Guess one more time.”
Chapter 46
Buckingham Palace, London
The Queen of Hearts hadn’t put down the phone, still listening to Mr. Jay reading the Chessmaster’s story to her. She hadn’t heard a story that scary before. Who wanted to collide with Death face to face, she couldn’t understand?
But the real question was: “What does Death want with us Wonderlanders, Mr. Jay?”
“That’s what’s puzzling me.” He said.
“It surely has something to do with Alice,” the Queen said. “He mentioned he wanted her to burn in hell.”
“Alice never mentioned Death when she used to work for Black Chess.”
“She was a wild one, Mr. Jay. She must have done something bad to him.”
“To Death?” Mr. Jay sounded skeptical.
“What else could it be?” the Queen said. “Or why would he bother with killing the masses to get that Carroll’s Knight?”
“I’d have to agree with you on this. Did you ever hear about those chess pieces Carroll carved out of his own bones?”
“Never before.”
“Didn’t Fabiola ever tell you?”
“No.”
“Think harder.” Mr. Jay’s voice was demanding.
“I know you think she should have told me when we were younger and were still close, but no, she never did,” the Queen defended herself. “Besides, Carroll seems to have had her scatter the piece all over the world, not long before his death. Fabiola and I were enemies by then.”
“Then we have no choice but to let Alice and The Pillar find those pieces for the Chessmaster, and wait to see what comes out of it.
“I understand.”
“We can’t afford the Chessmaster slowing down our plans. He is on neither sides, not Black Chess or the Inklings. We just have to play along and get him out of the way.”
“I think it’s personal.” The Queen suggested.
“Personal?”
“I am thinking the Chessmaster has a grudge toward Alice about something that happened in the past.”
“Something that none of us knows about? It’s puzzling me.”
A long period of silence thickened the air in the Queen’s room. She broke it by asking a question that had been puzzling her since she’d heard about the Chessmaster being Death. “Mr. Jay?”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering about this Death idea? I mean I thought we Wonderlanders were immortal. We’ve lived over a century and half already.”
“I know. And you’re right. It suggests that most Wonderlanders are immortals, but it’s not conclusive. In fact, if anyone had the power to kill them, it’d have been Lewis Carroll himself.”
“But he couldn’t. That’s why he had us trapped in Wonderland. So how come Death killed Lewis?”
“Lewis was human, don’t forget that.”
“Are you saying the Chessmaster can’t kill us, Wonderlanders?” The Queen said with a smug smile on her face.
“I think so…” Mr. Jay suddenly went silent.
The Queen could hear him conversing with someone nearby. He seemed to breathe heavier while listening. Finally, he returned to the Queen. “I think I just found the answer to your inquisition about the Chessmaster being incapable of killing Wonderlanders.”
“And?”
“It’s true. He can’t kill Wonderlanders.”
The Queen blew out a long sigh — and an accidental fart of mirth, though her dogs moaned in agony.
“Unless he finds their pieces.” Mr. Jay continued.
The Queen stood erect, horrified by the implication. Did Mr. Jay really mean what she just understood? “Pardon me?”
“In order to kill a Wonderlander, the Chessmaster had to find the chess piece that represents that character in Lewis Carroll’s chess squad.”
“You mean the ones he made from his bones are magically connected to us?”
“I’ve just been told so,” Mr. Jay says. “It seems that the Carroll chess pieces aren’t of a normal character. They’re chess pieces magically attuned to some of the most important Wonderlanders. If the Chessmaster gets them…”
“He can kill us, just like humans,” the Queen spilled out the terrible news. “So the White Queen piece killed Fabiola because she was the White Queen in Wonderland?”
“Exactly.”
“And the Rook?”
“Margaret was the Duchess,” Mr. Jay said. “She’s always been your right hand. The ‘rook’ in the corner of the castle you’re counting on. It protects you from harm and worked on your safety.”
“My God.” the Queen collapsed on her chair. “The Duchess is the Rook. That’s why she’s dead now.”
“And I’ve been told something else.” Mr. Jay says.
“What is it?” The Queen could sense the concern in his voice.
“I think you should run away, as far as you can.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ve been told that Alice and The Pillar just found the third piece.”
The Queen swallowed a lungful of her own fart right now. “Don’t tell me it’s a…”
“A Queen. A chess piece of a black queen.” Mr. Jay sounded disappointed. He definitely didn’t want to lose the Queen of Hearts. She’d always been a great asset. “I’m thinking you and Fabiola had always been competitive and rivals. If she’s the White Queen, then you surely are the Black Queen in Carroll’s eyes.”
There was a long silence in the room and on the line. Even the dogs went silent, waiting for Mr. Jay to spell it out.
“I think you’re going to die within a few hours,” Mr. Jay told the Queen of Hearts. “If not sooner.
Chapter 47
Somewhere in Tibet
“If you were a chess piece in Carroll’s army, who’d you be?” The playfully Pillar asks me.
Now that I know the third piece is a Black Queen, and that the clue inside it was a yellow note that clearly pointed at Kalmykia, I have nothing to lose but to play along. “The Queen of course.” I say jokingly.
“Queens and kings are lame,” The Pillar says. “They stay back by the end of chessboard, cowardly hiding behind hordes of protective chess pieces and do nothing but eat and get fat, just like in real life.”
“Still, they’re the most important in the game. If you checkmate them, the country will fall, just like in
real life by the way.”
“It’s a horrendously stupid idea, don’t you think? Having one king or queen or president representing the masses.”
“I agree. I mean how could one man be everyone?” I say. “But you didn’t tell me who’d you be in a chess game?”
“I’d tell you in the end. I have a firm answer. It never changes. I am curious to know if you’re like me.”
“Okay,” I shrug my shoulders. “If not Queen, I’d be a rook.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s a strong part of a castle. Essential, and it strikes me as brave.”
“Rooks remind me of scapegoats,” The Pillar’s says. “Just someone to take the blame.”
“You have a point. How about bishops? They move diagonally in the chessboard and have no limits.” I am trying to remember the little things I know about chess, as I am far from being good at it.
“Bishops are a joke,” The Pillar says. “First of all a bishop piece is an elephant. Why they ever call it bishop escaped me.”
“Hmm… haven’t looked at it from this angle before.”
“It’s an elephant. Elephants are big and slow, so how is it supposed to have no limits. It’s a flaw in the logic of the game if you ask me.
“Then I have no choice but to become a pawn,” I say, noticing I feel dizzy uttering the words. I wonder if I am remembering something. “Pawns stand brave, first in line. They fight like real men.”
“Alice. Alice. Alice,” The Pillar says. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pawns are nothing but the poor soldiers, pushed to the front line, defending our countries. They make movies about them and hail their names everywhere, but in reality, governments use them as sacrifice. It’s the oldest trick in the book.”
“Are you saying soldiers are useless?”
“Soldiers are the pride of our countries. We owe them our lives. They’re the best humans with the best intentions, but they’re manipulated, like pawns in a chess game. How many pawns did you see die in chess? Hell, how many idioms mention pawns in a sacrificial and humiliating sentence?”
I take a moment thinking about it. I hate to admit his point of view. I love soldiers who die for the freedom of their countries, but The Pillar’s point is solid. Pawns are also used as puppets by government authorities.
“Still, don’t underestimate pawns in chess games,” I remind him. “If a pawn reaches the other side of the board it can become any other chess piece. It’s a known chess move. It’s called promotion. I read it’s one of the best tricks used to win a weak game using just one pawn.”
The Pillar smiles again. “Nice touch. You’ve been practicing chess behind my back?”
“Just with a few Mushroomers back in the asylum. I don’t think that counts.”
“I wouldn’t say so. Actually, the most prominent chess players in the world learn their best moves from homeless people.”
“Really?”
“They’re called Savants,” The Pillar says. “It’s a well-known fact. Savants live on the streets and usually are genius at chess, but they never realize they can make money out of it.”
“So it’s you who’ve been reading behind my back.” I raise an eyebrow.
“Had to use my phone between the giant’s punches. After all, you say the notes you read mentioned a final chess game that would mark the end of the world.”
I let out a sigh. “So we’re really collecting those pieces to play a final showdown against this Chessmaster?”
“It looks like it.”
“Neither you and I can play chess, Pillar. We’ll let the world down.”
“I think the final chess game is rather metaphoric. Soon we’ll arrive and see what’s in store.”
“So tell me. You said you have a favorite chess piece on the board,” I say. “What is it?”
“Haven’t you guessed yet?”
“I did. It’s the knight. You love the knight, but why?”
The Pillar takes a moment, thinking it over then says, “A knight moves in an L shape, regardless of whomever stands in his way. A knight is a unique, unpredictable, and you will never see him coming.”
I wonder if The Pillar is telling me something about himself. Something that I am not supposed to see coming.
Chapter 48
Radcliffe Asylum, Oxford.
Tom Truckle didn’t quite grasp Inspector Dormouse’s visit. He stood behind his desk welcoming the sleepy detective who’d just taken a long ride from London and still slept occasionally on the sofa in the room.
“Inspector Dormouse?” Tom Truckle said, shaking the man a little.
“Oomph,” the Inspector sprang up on the couch. “I guess I fell asleep again.”
“You did,” Tom said impatiently. “I am really wondering why you visited if you intend to sleep between every couple of words you utter.”
“Can’t ever sleep at home,” he said. “Kids and their mother, not to mention the leaking faucet that drips out of tempo.”
“I can send you my plumber, if that will help,” Tom said. “Now if you don’t have something useful to tell me, could you please just leave?”
“No,” the Inspector said, standing up, and pulling his sleeves down. “You’re the only one who can help me.”
“Help you?” Tom walked back to his desk and sat. “What are you talking about?”
“I have important information that no one thinks is important, not even Margaret Kent.”
“Then maybe it’s not important.”
“Of course it is.” Inspector Dormouse yawned. “You will be interested, I’m sure.”
“Why so sure?”
“My information concerns Carter Pillar.”
Tom wasn’t interested yet. Though he wanted to know more about The Pillar, he sometimes preferred not to. The professor had been a headache when he was in the asylum, and Tom still had nightmares about The Pillar escaping his cell without anyone seeing him. How did he do it?
“What exactly do you know about The Pillar?” He asked the Inspector.
“I know why he killed the twelve people.”
“Come on,” Tom puffed. “Don’t tell me the professor had a meticulously calculated reason to do this.”
“It’s stranger than you’d ever think.” Inspector Dormouse sounded awake and alert. “Did you know that the twelve men had something in common?”
Tom tilted his neck, interested.
“The twelve men The Pillar killed were using fake names.” Inspector Dormouse said.
Tom didn’t see how that played out. It seemed strange, but not something that would interest him. “Fake names, you say?”
“All of them,” the Inspector said. “They’ve changed their names sometime around the last five years.”
“Are you saying they did it at the same time?”
“In the same year.”
Tom itched his neck. The thought of popping down another pill occurred to him, but he didn’t. This seemed to go somewhere. “Is that all?”
“I wouldn’t be here if it was,” the Inspector pulled out a long list of names and shoved it toward Tom. “This is a list with their names before they changed them.”
Tom put on his glasses and began reading. Most of the names were foreign, not English, but that was all. “If there is a catch about this list, I’m not catching it.” He told the Inspector.
“Of course, you wouldn’t,” the Inspector said. “Neither did I in the beginning.”
Tom grimaced, his face knotting, waiting for the Inspector’s punchline, which didn’t come. Instead, he watched the Inspector yawn and fall asleep while standing.
“Inspector!” Tom rapped upon his desk, thinking about those pills again.
“Ah,” the Inspector woke, stretching like he’d been napping for an hour. “So where were we?”
“You said there is something special about the twelve men’s names before they changed it. What is it?”
“One name?” Tom grimaced. “Are you saying the twelve people The Pillar killed shared one certain name — in different languages — then changed it to a fake one in the same year?”
The Inspector nodded proudly.
“That’s odd,” Tom said. “Definitely interesting. But I don’t see how this exposes The Pillar’s reason for killing them.”
“Not when you know of the name they all shared in the past.”
“Is that relevant?”
“Most definitely.”
“What is that name?” Tom asked curiously, not expecting the Inspector’s answer.
It was such a strange answer, so much he had the Inspector repeat it to make sure he heard it right the first time.
“Carter Pillar,” the Inspector said. “The twelve men shared the name of Carter Pillar.”
Chapter 49
Close to Kalmykia region, Russia
“What are you doing?” I ask The Pillar, as our balloon floats into more visible grounds.
He looks up from his phone, which he has been using to play chess for some time. “I’m playing chess against the computer.”
“I see that,” I say. “You’ve been clicking buttons like a child for half an hour now.”
“I have the strongest thumbs.” He grins, still staring at the screen of his phone.
“The weakest mind, too.”
“Love you when you’re nasty like that.” he clicks a side button and plays a song, which has the lyrics saying ‘I’m feeling kinda mean… blah, blah, blah.’ “It’s a song by Double Vision.”
“So?”
“I need to feel mean and practice chess in case we’re playing against the Chessmaster with Carroll’s pieces.”
“And a couple of computer games will make you good at it?”
“I am playing against the commercialized version of IBM’s Deep Blue.” He still grins like a child, making a move against the machine.