Checkmate (Insanity Book 6) (11 page)

“What is this, Xian?”

“We’ve never known exactly. It came with the machine.”

“Looks like a calendar to me. The squares.” I rub my hands on its surface. “Look, at the top of each set you can see those small writings. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so on.”

“One of our monks suggested that, but what use could it be?”

“I agree. It’s seems useless, but why write a calendar on the back of the machine?”

“You tell me, Alice of Wonderland. Maybe you can autograph my robe?”

“Autograph?” I roll my eyes. “What would you tell others? That the girl from the book autographed it? Stick with the puzzle, please.”

“As you say, Alice of Wonderland,” he says and pulls out two slippers from under his robe. They’re made to look like two rabbits. “Can’t think of a better occasion of wearing them. Brought them from…”

“New York, I know. You should stop being obsessed with American products.”

“But the slippers aren’t American,” he argued. “They’re made in Wonderland, the beautiful salesman told me.”

I roll my eyes again, in courtesy of all the foolish and stupid people in the world. Then I grab one of the slippers and check the sign on the back “It’s made in China, Xian,” I say. “So you technically let some sneaky salesman sell you an American product, claiming it was from Wonderland, when probably one of these monks manufactured it.”

Xian looks shocked. “You mean I could’ve already obtained the American Visa with those rabbit slippers?”

I leave him be and take another look at the calendar. Some of the squares are marked. Some with a white circle. Some with black. The scene reminds me of the War between the Inkling and Black Chess, and the black and white chessboard of life.

“I found you a white stone,” Xian shows up again. He hands me a snowball. “You said it has to do with something nearby. A snowball looks like a stone and is white.”

Though I dismiss his suggestion, I realize it gave me a clue. The white circles in the calendar could be the white stones. But how are they related to discovering the numbers that open the machine?

“Pillar?” I shout against the sudden wind looming nearby.

He doesn’t answer me, still having fun with the monks and promising them visas and better lives.

“Cao Pao Wong?”

“Yes, dear,” He says with a nose smudged in snow.

“What do white stones and calendars have in common?”

And there he suddenly looks interested. “Why did you mention calendars now?”

“There is calendar drawn on the back with white circles.”

“So this is it.” He clicks his fingers and approaches.

“Is what?”

“The clue.” He stands next to me and Xian. “Nice, slippers, Xian,” he comments. “I know a guy in the states who have the originals from Wonderland.”

Xian looks double shocked.

“What do you mean this is the clue?” I ask The Pillar.

“Lewis Carroll had a fascination with marking days on calendars,” The Pillar says. “And he always marked the happy day in his life with white stones.”

“Is that true?”

“I never lie on Tuesdays,”

“Wednesday.” I say,

“Then I never lie on Wednesdays,” he winks, staring at the calendar. “Now tell me you figured out the numbers already.”

“I can’t seem to get the connection.” But then I regret speaking out so fast, because one more glance helps me figure it out. All white stones of each month are drawn on the exact number of day in months. Starting from the third day, ninth, eleventh and so on. Sixteen numbers.

“Genius puzzle,” The Pillar says.

I punch the digits in while The Pillar distracts the monks, and hurray, the door clicks open. Xian helps me pull it back. It’s a bit heavy and inside there is nothing but wires and…

Wait. There it is. Another chess piece.

Chapter 34

World Chess Championship, Moscow, Russia

“Where are Alice and The Pillar?” the Chessmaster asked, just after making four consecutive moves with four different presidents. He seems to have a certain love for white knights in the game. He used them a lot, leaving world leaders in total awe of his brilliant moves.

“Untraceable so far.” One of his men told him.

“How is that possible? If they’ve found the White Queen chess piece, they must have been told of the next clue. And if so, I assume they will need transportation. The pieces are scattered all over the world.”

The Chessmaster’s assistant said nothing, afraid to upset him.

“Why do you need this Carroll’s Knight so much?” Uttered one of the world leaders. His name was Samson, declared dictator and sultan of Madderstan, a neighboring country to Looneystan.

“What did you just ask me?” The Chessmaster rose and rubbed his right mustache.

“You heard me.” Samson seemed full of himself, unlike most world leaders.

“You think you can just ask me questions because your country is a terrorism-spreading little land?” The Chessmaster knew Samson pretty well. The dictator ruled a small, but oil rich, country in Africa, and his small tribe of soldiers endorsed terrorism everywhere, just for the fun of it.

“Guilty as charged.” Samson raised his hands in the air. “I am such a bully. I love hurting other people and enforcing my ideologies on them by the sound of the gun. But how different are you?”

The Chessmaster rubbed his left side of the mustache and approached Samson. He could see the man had already made six moves, one move away from a checkmate, one move away from drinking the seventh cup and getting poisoned.

“You think I am just a low-life like you?” The Chessmaster said.

Samson laughed. “What else are you? Just another madman, thinking the world is not enough of a price for his ego.”

The Chessmaster reached for the knight on the chessboard and made the move. It was an easy one in his book, though not expected by any of his spectators.

Samson didn’t bother. He reached for his poisoned drink. “My men will slice you to pieces after I die, Chessmaster.”

Before he gulped, the Chessmaster gripped his wrist. “You have no idea who I am. You have no idea why I am doing this. All you are is a cockroach of a human being; a parasite, spreading chaos in the world and making it a terrible place.”

“And again, how different can you be?” Samson asked.

“I am the world’s salvation.” The Chessmaster said and forced the drink down the dictator’s throat.

The dictator dropped next to his table in an instant. The world broadcasted the scene, showing him wriggling and writhing before his death.

The Chessmaster turned and faced the camera. “I just killed another world leader. Don’t think I won’t go killing more. And let me tell you this: every one of you is responsible for finding Alice and The Pillar now. Find them, and bring them back to me, or your world leaders will not be saved.”

The words echoed the right way in the Chessmaster’s head. He demonstrated people’s worst fears and knew they would cooperate immediately. His message should have insinuated the desired effect, but then his assistant pointed at the news on TV talking about what just happened.

To the Chessmaster’s surprise, people, families, and children were leaving their houses in search for Alice and The Pillar. But not because they feared him. On the contrary, they have just declared their respect for the Chessmaster killing one of the world’s cruelest dictators.

It all left the Chessmaster bewildered. He sensed that warmth in his heart, the kind of warmth which had left him years ago. People suddenly believed he was their savior. He killed the world leader, which most of them wanted dead already. Not all of them of course, but enough people to help him catch Alice and The Pillar.

But the Chessmaster, being the dark being he was, also wasn’t fond of people’s love. He didn’t like to feel empathy or being admired. He’d transcended such weak emotions long ago. He needed to breathe anger and talk in vengeful syllables, or he’d weaken before completing his mission. The one he’d been planning since the 14
^th
of January 1898.

Chapter 35

Tibet’s Autonomous Region

“It’s a rook.” I grip it and show it to The Pillar.

“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’ 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 marital arts position, reminding 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

“Can 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 as 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 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 flares a thumbs-up. “Pretty sure you’ll get the visa.”

“Shut up,” the orange monks say. “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 conscious 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 question.

“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 in the back, 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 bluntly flattens the two unconscious men on their stomach, and pushes them near a steep snowy slope, then sits upon one. “Sit on yours,” he hisses. “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 in the end of movies,” The Pillar shouts back. “It never works, even if there’s a sequel.”

Chapter 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.