The Vatican
T he Cheshire watched the people of the Vatican panic, confused about who would take the deceased Pope’s place. Though he knew there were prolonged and accurate processes to elect a new one, there seemed to be an unexplained urgency to find a new Pope immediately. Maybe because the Vatican hadn’t gone to sleep yet. They needed a Pope before that happened.
None of this was of interest to the Cheshire, though. He’d just flown over to amuse himself. After all, he was bored, unable to find one soul to possess and stick to—and he’d watched so many movies that he couldn’t meow anymore.
Needing to make a phone call, he possessed the first old lady with a mobile he came across. She wore a terrible perfume that he hated, but he tolerated it until he finished the call.
“Did the Pillar find Mr. Fourteen?” the Cheshire asked.
“Looks like it,” the voice at the other end of the line said.
“The one in London?”
“Yes.”
“Not the other Mr. Fourteen?”
“No, only the one in London.”
“Looks good,” the Cheshire said in the woman’s voice. “The plan is on. He will find the one in London and kill him, then stop looking. Soon, he will die of his illness without knowing it, and I get rid of him forever.”
“It seems like you will also get rid of Alice. The Chessmaster has her cornered.”
“So he found Carroll’s Knight.”
“He did.”
The Cheshire grinned. It was such an unsettling grin that a few people stepped away from the old woman. “Then Alice is dead, too. She can’t win against the Chessmaster.”
“It’s a beautiful day, Chesh.”
“Beautiful indeed. Two of my enemies dead in one day, after all these years.” The Cheshire hung up and walked out of the Vatican.
He found a shortcut through an empty and darkened alley, so he took it, only to be stopped by a black figure in the dark.
“Oh.” The Cheshire shrugged, lowering the woman’s head.
“Didn’t expect me?” the man said in a baritone voice.
“No, but it’s always a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jay.”
“I don’t show myself much, but I thought we could use a little talk.”
“Whatever you ask.”
“I know you’re not a Black Chess employee, and that you have interests of your own, so I never pressured you into joining.”
“That’s right, sir. I’m most irritated with the Queen of Hearts. I don’t think I can work with her in the same place, ever.”
“Understood.”
“Besides, you’re all interested in this Wonderland War, and I’m just a cat. I want to have fun.”
“And you want to crush your enemies. I just learned about your rivalry with the Pillar. The fourteen souls.”
“You did?” the Cheshire said. “Well, me and the Pillar go way back.”
“I know.”
“Besides, I think not only will he die soon, but Alice, too.”
Mr. Jay stood silent, his breathing the soundtrack of a horror movie. “I don’t want Alice to die.”
“I just figured out the stupidity of my implication. I’m most sorry.” The Cheshire bowed his head a little lower.
“But I’m also not concerned with Alice’s safety.”
“Pardon me?”
“Alice is my best employee. She will beat the Chessmaster.”
“But that’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible with my dark little angel,” Mr. Jay said. “I’m not here to talk about her. I’m here to talk about you.”
“Me?”
“It’s time you stick to one soul, or you’ll lose your mind.”
The Cheshire purred. Mr. Jay always knew how to see through him.
“I’m not going to ask you to work for me, but I will hand you a soul you have no means of possessing. How about that?”
The Cheshire grinned. He was thinking it was a Wonderlander—someone other than the obnoxious Queen. “Who?”
“Let me show you,” Mr. Jay said.