Page 24 of Splintered Shadow
“Most sapient beings are social. That is a hallmark of civilization,” he retorted.
Fail.
“I need mental stimulation. I’m bored, and if I’m bored, I’m going to try to escape,” she said, changing tactics. Appealing to his compassion hadn’t worked, so now it was time for threats. The chain seemed indestructible, and the bed was too heavy to break without an ax. How she would escape, she didn’t know, but that was Future Sarah’s problem.
“You assured me you would not attempt to escape,” he said. For the first time, his mask slipped, and he seemed concerned. “You are in an unknown location and have no resources.”
“Oh, it’d be against my best interests, absolutely, but humans aren’t always rational. In fact, we can be rather spiteful.”
“You would escape only to wander through the forest and die of exposure or dehydration… out of spite?”
Sarah did her best to maintain a carefree expression. She wasn’t an outdoorsy person and had zero wilderness survival skills. An alien bear would eat her so fast. “Yup. Spite.”
Vekele made a disgruntled noise.
“Look, I know you don’t want to talk because you’re worried I’ll wheedle state secrets out of you. Fine. Can we watch a movie or read a book? Teach me a game?”
He stood abruptly, jostling the table. For a moment, Sarah feared she’d gone too far. “Very well, if it will keep you from damaging yourself. Remain there.”
Before long, he returned carrying a round board.
“Karu and Beasts,” he said, laying out the pieces. Black and white pegs were separated into two piles. An animal head decorated the top of the peg. Some were teardrop-shaped, suggesting a bird’s profile, and the others had pointy, triangular ears. Each piece was intricately carved with two eyes in the front and two on the side.
Sarah held a piece up to the light to examine it.
“Do not drop the karu. The set is very old,” Vekele said.
“Is that what the bird is? A kah-rue?” She gestured to the ever-present bird with the peg.
“She is not a bird. She is a karu, a sacred being. And I am playing the karu.” He plucked the token out of her hand, replacing it with the one with pointy ears.
Interesting. Before she could ask a question, he launched into explaining the rules.
“Listen carefully. I will not repeat myself. These are your warriors.” He held up the peg with the pointy ears, the beast, to demonstrate. “Move your warriors through the labyrinth, toward the center. We roll dice to move. Capture your opponent’s forces. The game is over when someone reaches the center. The one with the most warriors on the board is victorious.”
“And the symbols on the board and dice? Do they mean something?” The symbols meant nothing to her. She turned the dice until the side with one dot showed. “One?”
“Obviously.”
“But the board? Those aren’t numbers.” Symbols had been painted onto the wooden board and worn away in places.
“Those are special maneuvers. I will tell you what they say when it is necessary.”
“If you’re not cheating.”
He drew back, shoulders square. “I do not cheat.”
The pure scandal in his voice delighted her.
This was fun.
The first round went fast, with Vekele capturing nearly all her beasts. He didn’t gloat, but his lips twitched, a momentary lapse in his haughty exterior that suggested he—gasp—enjoyed himself.
Or enjoyed trouncing Sarah.
By the third round, she had a better grasp on how the game flowed. While a large percentage was random and couldn’t be controlled, knowing when to capture your opponent’s pieces and when to let them pass could win the game.
Vekele leaned forward, head tilted and peering at the board. For someone who didn’t play games, he was invested.
