Page 99 of The Grandest Game
The one they’d sundered. “Time to improvise.” Rohan lifted the sword. Holding it in both hands, he used the blade as a fan, his movements rapid and controlled.Not enough.Rohan lowered himself to the ground and began to blow.
Slowly, a message took form.KING ME.
“King me,” Savannah said above him. “Rohan.” There was an urgency in the way she said his name. “King me. As in checkers.”
As they bolted for the game on the wall, Savannah smiled—not a socialite’s smile, not a wolfish or roguish one. No, her smile was ecstasy and victory and sharp around the edges, and Rohan drank it in like wine.
“Do you think we need to king a specific piece or all of them?” Intentionally or otherwise, Savannah made that sound less like a question than an invitation.
“There’s also the issue ofhowwe ought to king the pieces,” Rohan replied in kind. “In gameplay, you can either slide a second piece beneath the first or—”
“Flip it upside down.” Savannah did exactly that to one of the pieces. With no hesitation, she moved methodically down all the black pieces on the back row, flipping them over.
Rohan did the same for the red pieces. She beat him to the end of her allotted pieces, leaving Rohan to flip the very last of his. As soon as he did, the game split in two, the wall parting along the vertical axis, revealing a door. Rohan tried it.Locked.There was no keyhole, just a black screen next to the door.
“Enter audio code,” a robotic voice declared.
The world around Rohan went still and quiet, and everything—every last damn thing—fell into place. “The birthday card,” he said.
It was the only one of their four objects they hadn’t used. When Rohan opened it, the gentle melody of “Clair de Lune” filled the air.
Moonlight.
The door before them opened straight to the rocky shore.
Chapter 72
LYRA
Door number one or door number two?” Jameson Hawthorne asked.
Lyra glanced at Grayson, whose expression made it clear: He would handle this, Hawthorne versus Hawthorne.
Grayson’s eyes narrowed very slightly. “Two.”
“Excellent choice,” Jameson replied in a tone that suggested it was anything but.
A circular section of the mosaic floor popped up and spun, revealing a compartment. Inside it, Lyra found a flatbed scanner, an empty sketchbook, and charcoal, the kind used for drawing.
“Door number one was a puzzle box, just FYI,” Jameson told them over the speakers. “Door number two gets you a challenge of a different sort. What’s a Hawthorne game without a little fun?”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed further. “Jamie—”
“All you have to do to earn your hint,” Jameson said wickedly, “is draw each other.”
Draw…Lyra couldn’t even finish that thought.
“They don’t have to be good drawings.” Avery Grambs had clearly been listening to the interplay between the brothers the entire time. “Just really look at one another and draw what you see. When you’ve scanned in one drawing of each person on your team, you’ll get your hint.”
“I know what you’re doing, Avery.” Grayson said the heiress’s name like he’d thought it ten thousand times or more. Lyra thought again aboutthat kiss—and then about the Hawthorne heiress’s advice to her, going into all of this.
Live.
“Avery,” Grayson said again. “Jamie?”
There was no reply. They were gone. Seconds passed, and then Grayson reached for the sketchbook and the charcoal. He angled his gaze toward Odette.
The old woman snorted. “Not me. Her.”
