Erskine Ravel felt shame as he limped to the dining hall where he knew Macon would be. He didn't feel shame for tearing The Dead Men apart. He felt shame that he was going to walk up to Macon and ask his help. His feet slid across the ground, deciding they didn't want to rise and fall. Skulduggery had done a number on him, that was for sure. Erskine ignored the rage that flared in his chest. He took a breath outside the grand double doors, taking a second to prepare himself. Shouldering the door open, he gracelessly walked in. Breakfast was gone, replaced by a chess set. Blaise was lounging a seat, her leg on the table. Kaden stood against the wall, his lean arms folded over his chest. Holly sat reading a book. Noah was across from Macon, setting up the last pieces of the game board. Macon Reid looked up at Erskine and laughed, his fat, greasy lips splitting to reveal horrendous, rotting teeth. Erskine quite literally swallowed his pride, keeping his mouth clamped shut before he could say anything he would regret.
"Bloom remembered it was me that gave her to you," Erskine stated hastily.
"Do you like chess?" Macon asked, his laughter dying as he fiddled with one of the pieces. Erskine shrugged.
"I don't really play." It was surprisingly difficult to keep the irritation out of his voice, and Macon noticed, his hazel eyes flickering to Erskine then back. It was remarkable how different Vex and his father looked. Where Vex was tall, Macon was rather short. Vex's hair was the colour of wet sand with the sun shining on it, short. Macon's was the colour of dirty dishwater, long and scraggly. Where Vex was lean and strong, muscles rippling beneath the taught, tan skin, Macon's skin seemed to drown him, rolling under his clothes, soft and squidgy. The only similarity whatsoever was their eyes, but even then, it was only the colour. Macon's looked like fish eyes, bulging out of his skull.
"Noah, if you would be so kind as to switch with Mr Ravel." Noah stood and sauntered out of the room wordlessly, obviously not caring. Blaise sat a little straighter. Kaden sat down, slowly, next to Holly. Erskine sat down on the other side of the board, his pieces black.
"Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain are the King and the Queen," Macon said, picking up those two wooden pieces. He dropped them in the middle of the board.
"Nothing holds them, nothing holds them back. They are equals. Equally intelligent, equally strong, equally ruthless. They don't care who the hurt, so long as they do it for their own justice. They're leaders." He continued. Erskine frowned but didn't object.
"Saracen Rue and Anton Shudder are your Bishops. Strong and useful, but not the most. They don't waver from their opinion, just as the Bishop can't waver from its colour. They are headstrong men, I admire that."
Macon picked up his two white Bishops, dropping them in the middle. They clattered, that satisfying thud of wood on wood ringing through the grand room. Holly had closed her book.
"Dexter Vex," He tried and failed to hide the catch of emotion in his voice, "And Ezra Bloom are your Rooks. They're saints, or they act like they are, moving forwards, backwards and side to side. But never diagonal, because they refuse to do anything that could be considered bad. There's black and there's white, no shades of grey. Not to them." Macon picked up the two Rooks and dropped them down in the middle.
"Ghastly Bespoke is your knight. He's strong, loyal, obedient. Not because he doesn't have a backbone, no, but because he does what others know is best. He jumps over people that aren't important to get to those who are. A very good quality if I must be honest. He cuts out the little things." He picked up one of his Knights and threw it to the pile.
"You, Erskine Ravel, are a Pawn." Erskine's gold eyes flicked up to meet Macon.
"You were a knight, brave and loyal with your partner. But then you betrayed them. You killed three and kidnapped a fourth. You move one step forward then cower a step or two back. You want to be on the winning side, but you don't know which side that is. Not yet, anyways. You haven't for the past four hundred years. I know why you killed your brothers. You killed them because you were scared that we'd come after you because Ezra had been found, returned with her memories. You wanted, needed a distraction. A commotion. You needed people to love and worship you because if they didn't we would come for you and we would kill you and you knew it. So what better way than to have the Warlocks cause a ruckus? You could save everyone, be the Hero. But no. You messed it up, didn't you?"
"Why did you bring them back?" Erskine asked, desperate to change the subject from his failure.
"Do you love her?" Macon asked, ignoring him.
"Who?" Erskine already knew the answer, though.
"Ezra Bloom."
"I did."
"Oh, past tense Mr Ravel?"
"She's engaged to be married. She loves him."
"And I am going to kill him. Well, torture her then kill him. But we can make them both suffer. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome, Mr Ravel?" Erskine's brow furrowed.
"Yes…"
"I have a proposition. We both get what we want."
"I'm listening…"
It was a truly wonderful proposal. Erskine found himself having a jump in his step, despite the mild pain. He hardly felt it. He was smiling, grinning. He called the Supreme Council and told them where the Dead Men were. Then he joined Macon again for an actual game of chess.
I had such a bad block, but it has been lifted, hooray! Please, please review! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
