Chapter 229: Fracture XXXIV

    "If we''re done whispering to each other like confabulating children, shall we begin what we came here to do?" Ozra approached the central table that held the Koss board, gesturing towards it with casual aplomb, any indication that he was at all unsettled by the pre-negotiation maneuvering perfectly concealed.

    Annette steeled herself and followed, coming to a stop across from the arch-fiend. She held there, making no effort to reach for the chair, expression muted and cold.

    A minute passed. Then another. And another.

    Finally, Ozra spoke, side of his mouth pulling up in a half smile. "For a people with roots so recently mired in savagery, you Uskarrions spare such pretense for pageantry."

    "Have you negotiated with so many of us, my lord?" Annette asked, cocking her head to the side.

    "A long time ago, before they bore the name. Simpler times. But it may surprise you to learn your brother did much the same." The arch-fiend spared me a sidelong glance. "Evaluated the room, the setting. Refused to sit as it would position his head below mine, reflecting a disparity in power that, while accurate, did not appeal to his vanity." His eyes slid back to her. "It did not help him any more than it will help you."

    "I beg to differ." From behind, I saw Annette''s thumb press into her hand, massaging her palm in idle circles. "A demonic summon, the support of a powerful and organized demonic legion as well as various boons and resources he eventually leveraged to solidify relations with a second, potentially more powerful ally. From all appearances, Prince Cairn secured exactly what he sought."

    "At great price. A price many might argue to be foolish."

    "I do not care for the arguments of the many. Just as my reticence to sit has nothing to do with dynamics of power."

    "Oh?" Ozra raised an eyebrow.

    Annette extended her arm towards the chair. "These are clearly formal proceedings. Which raises a question of etiquette. Were we in my kingdom, I would sit first and wait for you to join me." She looked around the expansive room, her impassive voice echoing off the tile. "However, this appears to be the hells, or at the very least analogous. In which case, our roles would be reversed."

    "It is a place between," Ozra answered, seemingly pleased by Annette''s explanation.

    "Then we will take our places concurrently." Annette pulled out her chair, waiting for Ozra to do the same. The moment they both settled down, she fired off the obvious question. "Why is there a Koss board?"

    Ozra picked up the white queen piece, rotating it idly in his fingertips. "Because from what I''ve heard, I''m in the presence of a master. Naturally, I wanted to test my mettle," He grinned, sharpened incisors on full display. "And, forgive the cliche?, but I find this sort of mental spar far more interesting when there''s a wager in play."

    "Terms?" Annette asked.

    "If you win, I''ll do whatever you like. Answer any questions rattling around in that sweet little mind of yours, including the identity of the person who holds the contract with the demonic entity in the sewers," Ozra answered sweetly.

    "And if she loses?" Maya asked from beside the table, arms crossed, positioning herself so she could see both the Arch-fiend and his second without having to glance between them.

    "An admission of victory would be enough." The side of Ozra''s mouth quirked as he replaced the queen piece on the board, long-nailed finger tapping against its crown. "And the allowance to pat her forehead in a disparaging manner."

    "Why?" Annette asked, not quite masking the growl in her throat.

    "Because I derive a great deal of enjoyment reminding small, insignificant beings exactly how small and insignificant they are."

    My little sister bristled. For a moment, I thought she might bite. Then Maya leaned down and whispered in her ear. It was impossible to make out from where I stood, but I watched as Annette''s irritation slowly faded away to nothing. As Maya backed away, Annette steepled her fingers and spoke. "My intercessor has advised me to abstain on the account that physical contact may allow you to better evaluate my potential worth. As Vogrin himself used a similar method to glean insights into my soul, I have to agree—"

    "—Strike the spoken agreement from the record," Maya cut in vehemently.

    Quill slashed parchment, as Loria—still lounging in the oversized chair behind the desk—flicked her wrist, floating pen making the annotation before it returned to its original place, levitating at the most recent line of text. Once that was done, she rested her chin on her fist and returned to glowering at me, clearly bored with the proceedings.

    "I cannot take this wager," Annette clarified, keeping the statement simple.

    "Very well." Ozra rolled his eyes.

    "However..." Annette started, scanning the pieces. If nothing else they were elaborate, the red transparent crimson, as if carved from ruby, the white opaque and reflective like ivory. "This is an enticing set."

    "Isn''t it?" Ozra kicked back, recalling a memory. "Won it off a hellhound thane a few centuries back. No idea where he found it—Never been much for crafting or artistry, the hellhounds, so he must have taken it off a corpse at some point. Yet, despite searching, I''ve never seen the like."

    "What was the wager then?" Annette asked. "With the hellhound?"

    "Discendente," Annette murmured, completely transfixed, barely paying attention to her opponent.

    "Don''t be childish. There''s hardly five moves left. Let alone an avenue for victory." The arch-fiend protested, double-checking his side of the board before his gaze landed on one of her pieces near the back. "Promote that foot-soldier to whatever you like. None of your captured pieces are capable of completing the coup. Nothing short of a queen would make a difference."

    "How long has it been since you played with a mortal, my lord?" Annette asked, suppressing a smile.

    "I dabble, when time permits."

    "At least two centuries. Am I wrong?"

    Ozra squinted uncertainly. "That is... extremely precise. I''m rather curious how you worked it out."

    "My first clue was the lack of spare pieces. Not enough to be certain, of course. Perhaps you held them separately, intending to produce them out of thin air as a parlor trick. I varied my strategy for further confirmation, mixing new and old. Against the old lines—particularly Luecippus'', Rizon''s, and Iolla''s—you responded perfectly, instinctually playing the best possible moves. You answered the newer lines perfectly as well, but there was the briefest hesitation, as if you hadn''t seen them before." Annette pulled the silk tie out of her hair, allowing her brown curls to spill down her back as she relaxed. "The rules have changed little over the last millennia, when they were first modernized. Only minor adjustments and clarifications... with a one major exception. A few centuries ago, you would have been right. A foot soldier could only be promoted to a captured piece. There could only ever be three priests, four knights, and of course, a sole queen." Annette''s eyes twinkled with glee. "A certain Panthanian ruler with the proclivity for collecting wives took issue with this. His logic, while rooted in vanity, was ultimately sound. If one could achieve the arduous task of marching a foot soldier across the entire board, they should be able to promote the lesser piece to whatever they like. And while most scholars of the game did not share the ruler''s resistance to monogamy, they appreciated the potentially boundless new strategies this small adjustment brought to the game itself. Panthanian Koss grew in popularity, rivaling Koss itself until the adjustment was universally adapted."

    Slowly, Ozra''s gaze panned down to the board, reevaluating his position as he processed the new information. Disappointment dawned as he sat back, scooping up his king from the tile and clenching it in his fist. "Loria?"

    "Conversing with the natatorium now." Loria''s head tilted, as she listened to something only she could hear. "They''re confirming. The princess is correct."

    "And it''s as universal as she claims?"

    "Yes."

    The arch fiend rolled the king between his fingers. "You called discendente at four moves to conquest, rather than the requisite five."

    "I was not yet certain of my victory," Annette admitted.

    "Even if you were, the foot soldier was already too close to intersect. It wouldn''t have mattered. Take the victory, and the board." Ozra extended the king piece out towards Annette, then stopped, closing his hand before she could reach for it, something lighting in his eyes. "Unless... yes. The potential for multiple queens is not a small adjustment. It alters the trajectory of the endgame significantly. I am cunning, but cunning only goes so far when applied to a game one has never played. A rematch could be anyone''s game."

    "But what will we wager?" Annette asked. Her voice, while still guarded, was warmer now. The match had changed the dynamic between them, perhaps imparting a sense of mutual respect.

    "There are at least a few artifacts lying around that might draw your fancy, any of which I''d happily put on the line to get that board back," Ozra panned the room, "Plenty of books mortals have never laid hands on that would certainly be of interest to a young academic. Barring that, Rizon himself is gallivanting around in the lower reaches of the second circle, somewhere. I could summon him, but he’s... well... he probably wouldn''t be what you''d expect."

    "So the rumors about him..."

    "Oh yes. Arguably worse. Terrible company. To be frank, even his screaming is unpleasant."

    "A tragedy. As tempting as all those possibilities are, we could return to the first wager." Annette mused, watching his reaction closely. To my utter shock, instead of immediately buying in, Ozra instead seemed immediately uncomfortable with the proposition. "I''ll even throw in the board."

    "Princess—" Maya began to interject, but Annette threw up a hand and silenced her.

    "The intercessor is correct," Ozra quickly agreed. "There''s no need to revisit stakes we''ve already agreed to discard."

    "Because for the first time in as long as you can remember, the odds do not favor you?" My sister challenged, staring down the arch-fiend.

    The scratching pen suddenly halted, leaving burgeoning silence as Ozra rose to his full height, full of barely restrained anger and an imposing stare. "Such pride, born from a triumph of technicality. Very well. State your wager for the record then. If that is what you wish."

    "It wasn''t four."

    "What?"

    "There weren''t four moves left until discendente. There were five." Annette reached out, hem of her sleeve sliding along the table until her fingers pressed against the side of the Koss board. Wood gave way with an audible click as she pressed her thumb against the surface.

    A compartment snapped open.