Abner shrugged. “Chess is what we used her for. But yeah, Master Payne says that the board can be used for almost twenty different games that he’s familiar with, and probably a bunch more that he isn’t. But in these parts, if you want to impress someone, you play them at chess.” He sighed. “I’ve taught Embi the basics, but chess just isn’t his game. Can’t really wrap his head around it. The man’s a demon at Omweso, though. That’s a game he brought with him from Africa. There’s this board, with a bunch of little indentations—”
Krosp interrupted. “But I’ve heard people talk about her—it—like it was alive!” He leapt up to the board and gingerly poked at the seated figure. It remained motionless. He noticed that although it had fully articulated eyelids with long full eyelashes, which were closed, as well as a small perfectly sculpted nose and ears, the figure had no mouth. He batted at it again.
Abner looked embarrassed. “Well we all tend to talk like she is. Kurtz was a really good puppeteer. Before you knew it, you’d ignore him and be talking to the puppet. The audience always loved it, so we did it a lot. Got into the habit of telling her our problems, asking advice, you know...”
Krosp folded his arms. “No, not really. She’s got no mouth. How did she offer this advice?”
Abner looked at Krosp and frowned. When he spoke, it was carefully. “She... can do more than play games. When we thought the populace wouldn’t get too spooked by it, she did oracular readings. Tarot cards, pendulum divination, there’s this ‘Ching’ thing from the orient that uses sticks—Kurtz was pretty good at the woo-woo stuff, but—” Abner looked like he’d said too much.
“But—” Krosp prompted.
The man sighed. “It was Kurtz who started it. He said that sometimes... Moxana made her own moves, and that they always... meant something. Something more than he could see.”
Krosp studied the figure again. “And you buy this?”
Abner shook his head. “I don’t know. I was a lot greener in those days, and Kurtz always loved to spin a good story, but...these days, whenever things get a little strange, we say ‘Moxana’s rearranging her board.’” He blew out a breath and grinned. “I guess that’s pretty silly, eh? Kurtz loved messing with people.”
Krosp looked at Abner for a moment, took a deep sniff and then studied the mechanical figure again. He noted that although most of the figure had a fine coating of dust, the game board was sparkling clean.
He turned back to Abner. “Interesting.” He paused, “You know, I play chess. I could run her for you.”
Abner looked startled. He quickly looked at Moxana and then back to Krosp. “But—”
Krosp continued smoothly, “You would like to have her on display again, yes?”
Abner stammered, “Well... yes... of course... but—”
Krosp nodded as if it was settled. “We’ll have a few games later. You can see how good my endgame is.”
Abner acquiesced weakly. “Of course. Later...”
Krosp grabbed his hand and gave it a few hearty pumps. “Good! It’ll be more use than my shoveling dung, I’m sure!” Abner was aware of claws pricking his fingers. He saw the hunter’s gleam in the cat’s eyes. Krosp pulled his paw back, gave it a quick lick and rubbed it over his head. “And now, I’d better go find Agatha. She’s helpless without me, you know.”
With that he hopped down and strolled out the door. Abner stared after him and frowned. Behind him there was a faint whirr and several quick, quiet clicks.
Turning he saw several chess pieces set up upon the board. He made a quick analysis and blew his lips out in a puff of self-disgust. “Check.” He eyed the silent mechanical figure and turned to leave. “Yes, thank you. I got that.”
Several weeks passed. The circus worked its way through a series of small kingdoms that actually bothered to maintain the roads.
As a result, they made good time, and occasionally were able to play two shows a day in two different towns.
True to his word, Krosp proved to be a surprisingly good chess player. Easily beating everyone in the troupe except for Master Payne, who confided in the cat that “People hate to play against a magician, they’re never sure if they lost because I beat them or because I was able to pull a queen out my nose when they weren’t looking.”
Krosp nodded sympathetically, then lashed out with lightning speed and batted at the sleeve that Payne wasn’t gesticulating with, knocking free the rook of Krosp’s that he’d hidden there. The cat snagged it in midair and placed it back on the board. “Yes,” he agreed, “I can see how other people would find that frustrating.”
Payne harrumphed and sat back, which is the only reason he saw the tip of Krosp’s tail nudging one of the cat’s pawns forward.
The two played every day thereafter[34].
Zeetha continued Agatha’s training. This was in two parts. In the morning Agatha was run around, and in the evening, after dinner, she watched while Zeetha went through her own exercises.
While she leapt and swirled, she gave a running commentary about what she was doing, technical terms and the history of the swords themselves.
They were called Quata’aras, and instead of a pommel that was an extension of the blade of the sword, they had a perpendicular handle, which put the blade in a line with the wielder’s forearm. Agatha considered that, from an engineering perspective, this would give the weapons a lot more power. Zeetha moved with such grace that she easily masked this power, until she made a delicate move and cut down a nearby tree. Agatha very much wanted to be able to move like that, and itched to try her hand with the weapons themselves.
One morning, after an exciting, impromptu performance the previous evening, when Zeetha had deftly bisected an attacking swarm of overly large yellow jackets on the wing, Agatha was awakened by the now-familiar nose beep and found that she was expected to run around the camp while lugging a small blacksmith anvil.
Agatha balked. “When do I get to learn to use a sword?”
Zeetha paused. “You’re not ready to even touch a Quata’ara yet.” Agatha opened her mouth, but her memory flashed back to the time on Castle Wulfenbach, when one of the Baron’s students, Zulenna, had demonstrated just how much she had to learn about Europa-style fencing, which was the sword-style Agatha had known about all her life.
With a sigh, Agatha bent her knees and lifted the anvil off the ground. She turned to see Zeetha looking at her, her lower lip pushed out in a moue of disappointment.
“Oh wait,” Agatha said, “let me guess. This was where I was supposed to insist you let me wield a Quata’ara, even though you, my Kolee, have told me I’m not ready. Possibly I’m supposed to harbor some day-dream that I have a magical affinity for these swords, which will allow me to side-step all this tedious training.
“No doubt this would have led to some hilarious, but painful lesson reaffirming that I am, in fact, not yet ready to touch the swords. I’ll skip that, if I may.”
She was about to say more, but the flush working its way up Zeetha’s face stopped her cold. Without another word, she hugged the anvil to her chest and fled. With a roar, Zeetha followed.
That night, a bruised and nearly comatose Agatha lay face down on her bunk, attempting to formulate a philosophical worldview that would make the pain more bearable. This was proving quite difficult, possibly because it hurt to think.
Agatha tried to review the day, but beyond a certain point, her memories faded into a red fog. All she could remember was finally being allowed to drink what felt like liters of water and being too exhausted to eat. Oh, and the Jägers. She remembered them.
34
Krosp did indeed try to run Moxana. The experiment was abandoned after he gothis whiskers caught in the mechanisms for the second time.