Tibet
A s 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.