The Eagle's Quill by Sarah L. Thomson

Author:Sarah L. Thomson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619637344
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2017-02-11T10:56:21+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Don’t just stand there!” Marty shouted at Sam. “Hurry!”

“Hurry where?” Sam shouted back at her across the heads of giant pawns and looming bishops, everything vibrating as tremors shook the cave. The motion had not stopped when Theo yanked Sam away from the black queen. This cave was going to shake itself to pieces. “Did you miss the fact that our exit just got blocked?” Sam yelled at Marty. “There’s nowhere to go!”

“Then you’ve got to solve the puzzle,” Abby called, coming to stand by Marty’s shoulder. She gave Sam a firm look, and her chin came up. “Right? Isn’t that what you always do? We have to solve the puzzle, then we can move forward.”

Right. Abby was right. Sam shook his head a little, trying to jar his thoughts into motion. That was how the Founders always worked. Solve the puzzle, Sam, he told himself. That’s why you’re here.

“Theo!” Sam said. “Shove the queen back where she was.” Theo grabbed the queen and pushed, moving her much faster than Sam had been able to do. It wasn’t just that Theo was stronger. She moved more easily in that direction, and the dreadful screeching noise she’d made was gone too.

But when she slid back onto her original square, the shaking did not stop. Gravel from the ceiling scattered down over Sam. He brushed it out of his eyes, frowning.

So moving the queen had been wrong—obviously. But getting her back where she’d been hadn’t solved the problem. Fixing the wrong move hadn’t been enough. They had to make the right move.

With a grating crack, a wall of the cavern fell into the cave, torches coming down with it, their flames choked by grit and debris. Rocks and pebbles spilled and bounced across the floor. Abby grabbed Marty’s arm and pulled her out of the way of a giant chunk of rock that rolled to a stop right where she’d been standing.

They had to make the right move now.

The cave was falling apart around him, his friends were in danger, he was in danger—and Sam couldn’t let himself think about any of it. He turned back to the board that surrounded him. Think about chess. Only about chess.

Look at the pieces, he told himself. See how they connect. Chess was never just about how each piece moved; it was about each piece’s relationship with the others. Which was vulnerable? Which was powerful? It all depended on where it stood and who stood with it.

The white king was in danger from the black queen—but that hadn’t been the right move. There had to be others—yes! That black bishop could checkmate the white king too. Sam took a step forward and stopped.

See all the pieces. Look at the whole board. He’d jumped in too quickly the first time and moved the black queen without checking to see if that was the only move he could make. That had been wrong. He couldn’t afford to be wrong twice.

“Marty!” he yelled. “Do you play chess?”

Marty shook her head.

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