“All right, guys. Keep your eyes and ears open. Be ready for anything. These bastards have beaten us to the punch again, and if we can sense them, they can sense us. We have to assume they know we’re here. This girl’s life is on the line, and we’re all she’s got. Ready?”
Lena and Emilio nodded in unison with only their eyes betraying their brave facade.
“So.” Steven turned to face the darkened house and grimaced. “Any thoughts on how we play this?”
Steven approached the house alone, still dubious about their thrown-together plan of action. Stepping onto the front porch, he rapped three times on the front door. The pouch continued to drone away, a pulsating hum that escalated quickly into a grating whine that made his teeth ache. That, coupled with the knot in his gut caused by the sure proximity of the Black, left him ill. The better part of two anxious minutes passed before footsteps sounded from within. The deadbolt turned, raising the hair on Steven’s neck, though the response seemed silly when he saw the face peering out from the cracked door.
“May I help you?” Beneath the chain, a disheveled woman in her late-forties eyed Steven with a weary gaze. Her voice, on the edge of hoarseness, still conveyed the refinement of someone who was no stranger to the local society page.
“My name is Steven Bauer. I’m an old friend of your daughter.”
“Steven?” What he could see of the woman’s brow furrowed. “Huh. I don’t remember meeting you before. Do you know Audrey from Stanford?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Steven hoped his eyes wouldn’t betray him. “We were in a few classes together freshman year. I recently found out about, you know, what’s going on with her.” He smiled innocently as lie after lie passed his lips. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” The woman took a deep breath and unfastened the chain. “Please, come in and have a seat.”
Despite her unadorned face and tousled hair, Steven caught a glimpse of the woman’s intrinsic elegance shining through, though the strain of caring for an ailing daughter had clearly taken its toll. Her gaunt cheeks and poor color indicated she wasn’t eating well while the purplish bags beneath her weary eyes suggested countless sleepless nights. Still, she managed a kindly smile as she showed Steven into a front sitting room.
Even from Steven’s limited vantage, it was obvious housekeeping around the old home, much like the keeping of the grounds, had been relegated to the back burner. One of the bulbs in the ceiling fixture was burned out, leaving the room in a half-dark twilight state. Stacks of half-opened mail littered the floor of the cozy sitting room. A layer of undisturbed dust covered the coffee table between them, a testament to time spent on more important things.
“I need to let you know, Steven, she’s not doing well.” She cleared a stack of magazines from a plush armchair and motioned for him to take a seat. “Not well at all. I’m actually surprised you dropped by. Most of her other friends stopped visiting over a month ago. Most can’t bear to see her this way. I’m not sure how close you two were, but you may not recognize her the way she is now. Make sure you’re ready before you go in.”
Wiping away a tear, she sat on a couch opposite Steven. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s good you’re here. You have no idea how much it lifts her spirits when she sees familiar faces.”
Steven let out a quiet sigh. He couldn’t be less familiar if he tried.
As Audrey’s mother continued to vacillate between pleasant reverie and poignant tears, Steven barely paid her any mind, his thoughts occupied by one simple fact. Though quelled by his use of the Pawn icon, the twist in his gut that signified the Black presence was still present and growing stronger by the minute.
What are they waiting for?
Some framed photos on the wall caught Steven’s attention. In the upper left corner was a picture of the woman who sat before him, albeit with a few less years and infinitely less worry etched into her features. Next to it hung a faded picture of a teenager in bell-bottoms hugging a man who had to be Woody in his prime. Other family shots hung from the wall as well, all surrounding a portrait of a young woman. Steven rose to examine the picture.
A pair of kind hazel eyes stared out at Steven from behind the glass, the girl’s oval face framed by long locks of curly, auburn hair. Fine freckles decorated her cheeks and nose and her naturally full lips stretched wide in a jubilant smile.
“Audrey,” Steven breathed.
“Yes. That one’s a couple of years old now, but it’s still how I think of her. So happy. She doesn’t have much to smile about these days, but she still tries.” Shuffling footsteps to his rear tightened the knot in Steven’s stomach. He whirled around, ready to face whoever or whatever was coming, and for the second time in as many minutes, felt quite silly.
“Hey, Dad,” the woman said. “How’s our girl doing?”
“About as well as can be expected,” Woody answered. “The nurse is almost done in there and, oh… Sorry, you’ve got company.” He eyed Steven, a flash of recognition crossing his features. “Wait a minute.” Woody crossed his arms, sending Amaryllis fluttering at Steven’s chest. “You’re the young man from the park.”
“Yes, sir.” He stood and extended a hand. “Steven Bauer.”
“Steven’s an old friend of Audrey’s from Stanford,” the woman said. “He’s in town and dropped by to visit.”
“Huh. I wish I would’ve known who you were.” Flustered, Woody’s face went red. “I would’ve invited you back with me and… Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. When I told you about Audrey, you acted like you’d never heard of her before. What’s going on here?”
“Now, don’t get all paranoid, Dad,” Audrey’s mother said. “I’m sure Steven has a perfectly good explanation. He’s been nothing but pleasant since he got here.”
The old man bristled for a moment, but quickly calmed. “You’re right, Deb. Sorry, Steven. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t had dinner yet. You know how it goes.” Woody sat by his daughter. “I think the new nurse from hospice is going to work out. Audrey really perked up having someone more her own age to talk to.” He let out a mischievous chuckle. “Plus, she’s a lot easier on the eyes than the last one, that’s for sure.”
At Amaryllis’ sharp pinch, a cold realization shot through Steven like a bolt of lightning. “The nurse. She’s new?”
“Umm, yeah,” Deb answered. “Today’s her first day with us. She said Audrey’s usual nurse had come down with pneumonia and that she’d be filling in.”
“What does she look like?” Steven already knew the answer.
"Young, attractive, brunette. No more than a few years older than Audrey.” Alarm blossomed on Deb’s face. “Why are you asking?"
“No time to explain. Where is Audrey’s room?”
“But—” the mother stammered, her eyes wide with fear.
“No time,” Steven said. “Tell me where she is.”
“Down the hall, last door on the left, but I don’t understand—”
“Last on the left. Got it. Now get out of here and take your father with you. I don’t have time to explain, but trust me. It’s not safe in here.”
“But what about—”
“I’ll get Audrey. I promise.” Steven summoned the shield. “Now, run.”
Steven launched himself down the darkened hallway, the shield’s radiance growing in magnitude with each hurried step. The dark scintillation coming from beneath the last door on the left confirmed his worst fears. He rushed the door, lowering his shoulder to knock it down, and was hurled back by the dark energy as if he’d grabbed a live wire. He got back to his feet and brought the pike from wherever it resided when not at his side, but the confined quarters left him little room to move.
“Lena!” Steven’s call was answered with the rhythmic patter of sprinting sneakers. The girl was by his side in seconds. The head of the mace shone like a small sun in the dim hallway.
“Move.” Lena swung full force at the door, the head of the mace disappearing in a burst of silv
er-white light. Despite the thunderous force of the blow, however, the door held fast. The shimmering sparks from the impact scattered along the obsidian glimmer of the door’s surface like skipped stones across a pond. Lena’s second swing produced similar results. Her frantic eyes met Steven's. “What now?”
“Aim here.” Steven pointed to the wall adjacent to the door. “The darkness doesn’t seem to extend past the doorframe.”
Lena moved two steps to the right and brought the full force of the mace to bear against the adjoining section of hallway. The resultant thunderclap shattered the dry wall and timbers, leaving a gaping hole in their place.
His ears ringing from the impact, Steven had but a second before a jet of black fire shot from the jagged breach like flames from a dragon’s dark maw. Before he could think, he shoved Lena out of the way and brought up his shield. Surrounded in a silver-white glow, the ebon flames rushed past his body like the roaring current of a diverging river. Engulfed but unharmed, Steven advanced on the jagged opening.
“All right, Lena. Back outside.” Steven’s voice grew quiet. “You know what to do.”
“But—”
“No arguments.” Steven pointed up the hall. “Go and make sure everyone else is out.”
Lena sprinted back through the flames toward the front of the house and Steven turned back to the gaping hole in the wall.
Looks like it’s down to her and me. Steven dove into the breach. Again.
As his feet found purchase on the other side, Steven crouched behind the oblong shield and took in his surroundings. The entire room ablaze, black flames licked across the ceiling, cascaded down the walls, and jetted across the room’s hardwood floor. The flickering darkness cast a deep purple hue throughout the space and made the dimensions of the room inscrutable. At the center of this ebon inferno rested a scorched hospital bed and its lone occupant.
Audrey.
Barely visible through the conflagration, the young woman lay writhing under a single white sheet, her eyes clenched in terror. Black flames like writhing stalactites stretched down at her from the ceiling above and licked hungrily at the bedclothes from below. And there, perched by the head of the bed like a venomous serpent waiting to strike, stood the Black Queen.
“You know, Steven, we’ve really got to stop meeting like this.” She shot him a wicked grin. “People are going to talk.”
Steven took a step toward the bed, and the Queen touched the obsidian orb at the tip of her scepter to Audrey’s temple.
“Now, now, little Pawn, you’ve proven to be quite formidable, but you’re a fool if you believe you’re fast enough to keep me from splattering her brains all over the wall.”
The girl’s sobs, just audible over the crackle of the flames, sent Steven’s heart racing.
“All right,” Steven said. “I get it. You’re in charge here. You win.” He peered out from behind his shield and the Queen stroked Audrey’s cheek with the serpentine scepter. “What I don’t get is why you’ve left the girl alive. What are you waiting for?”
“You watch too many movies, Steven. The whole reverse psychology ploy is a bit played, don’t you think? Never fear. She will die, and soon.”
An icy fist gripped Steven’s heart at Audrey’s terrified moan.
“As for why she’s still breathing, it’s very simple. The powers that be frown upon engagements between the White and Black prior to the start of play. You and your friend with the horse are therefore off limits, at least for the time being. However, if one or both of you met your end during the performance of my assigned task, it might simply be chalked up as one of those unavoidable consequences of playing our little Game.”
The Queen raised her arms in a sweeping conductor’s gesture and the dark flames engulfing the room rose around them. “Do you now understand, Steven Bauer?”
Another sweep of the scepter and a shimmering plane of black energy formed in the breach Lena left in the wall, blocking Steven’s only avenue of escape. The heat around him doubled in intensity, rendering impotent whatever protection the shield afforded him. Worse, as tongues of flame danced close enough to scorch but not to burn, a simple fact became apparent.
The Queen was merely toying with him.
“Why so shocked, Steven? Did you think that scrap of metal there could protect you from me?” Cruel laughter echoed in the room. “I’m the Black Queen of this Game, you idiot. Your recent run of luck aside, you’re still nothing but a Pawn.”
She cast her malevolent stare on the girl’s trembling form. “You know, I’ve changed my mind.” The Queen ran her taloned fingers along Audrey’s wasted cheek. “I think I’ll let you watch her burn.”
The edges of Audrey’s bed, which had been smoldering since Steven entered the room, burst into flame. Fire nipped at her toes, bringing a hoarse scream from the girl’s lips. Her knees curled up to her chest in a futile effort to escape the scorching heat. Steven’s clothes and hair singed as the dark inferno rose around him.
Come on, Emilio, where are you?
An engine roared to life outside the room’s bay window, its high whine just audible over the roar of the dark conflagration. Distracted but a moment by the sound, the Queen raised the bejeweled scepter above her head and a maelstrom of ink-black flame roared down from the ceiling and engulfed the bed.
“No!” His scream drowned out by the crackle of the flames, Steven slipped the shield from his arm, willed its form small and circular, and hurled it at the Queen. Like a giant discus, the shield’s glowing platinum passed through the fiery funnel of dark energy, dissipating the flames for a moment. Before she could move, the shield smashed into the Queen’s chest and sent her reeling into the far wall.
Not wasting a second, Steven rushed to Audrey’s side and snatched her from the burning bed. As his fingers touched Audrey’s charred skin, the searing heat at Steven’s hip doubled in intensity. The pouch emitted a pulse of such volume, Steven’s teeth shook in his head.
No doubt about it. She’s the one.
The girl’s emaciated body weighed less than ninety pounds. Her mottled scalp was hairless, most likely an effect of the cancer treatments, and the rest of her was little more than skin and bone. Each shallow breath appeared to hurt worse than the one before, the burns to her chest and flanks no doubt mirrored inside her lungs as well. As he studied the wasted features of Audrey’s face, the girl’s eyelids fluttered open, and though nothing else remained of the girl in the picture, her hazel eyes were unchanged.
She’s so far gone. How can she be the Queen?
Her gaze distant, the confused gratitude in Audrey’s eyes shifted back to terror. “Behind you,” she croaked as loudly as her scorched vocal cords would allow.
Steven whirled and dove behind the charred remains of Audrey’s armoire, narrowly avoiding a jet of black flame meant to immolate them where they stood.
The Black Queen laughed. “You’re such a glutton for punishment.” She leveled her scepter at Steven’s chest. “To hell with Zed and his stupid rules. I’m going to enjoy this.”
Audrey squeezed Steven’s neck with all the force her wasted body could muster.
Trapped, Steven mouthed a desperate prayer to a deity he hadn’t spoken to in years. “God, if you’re listening, don’t let it end like this.” He met the Queen’s gaze, refusing to let her see fear in his eyes. “Not like this.”
At the Queen’s silent command, the inferno engulfing the ceiling whirled like a dark cyclone, flowing down into her scepter in a vortex of ebon fire. Audrey buried her face in Steven’s chest as her would-be rescuer cast about the room for anything resembling cover. He spied the glow of his shield no more than ten feet away. Resting at the Queen’s feet, the metallic disc may as well have been on the moon.
“Now.” The serpentine eyes of the Queen’s scepter glowed deep violet and a column of jet-black flame erupted from its fanged mouth. Steven clenched his eyes shut and spun around in a last ditch effort to shield Audrey’s body from the brunt of the fi
restorm.
A firestorm that never came.
Just audible above the crackling flames, the gentle purr of a motorcycle’s engine filled the room, punctuated by the occasional staccato rev of the motor. Glancing across his shoulder, the scene before him exceeded his wildest imaginings.
Amid the blazing remnants of Audrey’s room rested Rocinante in all its chrome-plated glory, its dazzling gleam at odds with the paradoxical darkness of the surrounding flames. Astride its shining pearl and silver body perched Emilio, his combination of street clothes and armor a peculiar sight. Though the lance was nowhere to be seen, in its stead rested an enormous double-edged axe Steven had difficulty believing Emilio could even lift, much less wield. The full-length shield on the boy’s arm somehow repelled the Queen’s fiery onslaught, though bitter experience had taught Steven she would only be balked for a moment.
“So,” the Queen said, “you brought your Knight as well. We weren’t sure if you would be so foolish as to throw one even less ready than yourself to the wolves. No matter. At least now we won’t have to search him out ourselves.”
“Don’t listen to her crap, Steven,” Emilio said. “I’ve got this. Get the girl out of here.”
Steven rushed for the only viable exit from the room. The large bay window, obscured by smoke and flames, somehow remained intact despite Emilio’s grand entrance. He raised his foot to kick out the glass but held back as the entire window lit up with a familiar silver-white glow.
“Close your eyes.” Steven threw himself atop Audrey’s emaciated form. No sooner had they hit the floor than the glass shattered inward with a thunderclap roar.
“Come on,” Lena shouted from outside. “I’m not sure how long Emilio can hold her.” A second swing from her mace finished the window and its frame, the resultant gouge large enough for two to climb through.
Steven cradled Audrey tight in his arms and leaped through the jagged opening and out into the twilight grey of early evening. As his feet hit the ground, he looked back, a cold question filling his mind.
Pawn's Gambit Page 17