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“I don't think they wanted to think about that,” Dervish sighs. “Doubts have a way of eating a person from the inside out. Most who face Lord Loss choose not to focus on all that can go wrong, because it makes it more likely that something will go wrong.”
“But —” I begin.
“Grubbs,” Dervish interrupts curtly, “we can sit here arguing all night. But that won't bring your parents and Gret back. And it won't help Billy. Letting go isn't easy, but you have to forget about your parents for a while. If you can't, you're no good to me.”
“‘No good to you’?” I echo, frowning. “What are you talking about? What do you want me to do?”
Dervish leans forward, his features impassive. “I want you to be my second,” he says. “I want you to stand by my side and battle Vein and Artery while I challenge Lord Loss at chess.”
The world goes numb.
THE CHOICE
“YOU'RE loco!” I scream. “Sheer bloody nuts!”
“I'm many things,” Dervish answers calmly, “but I don't think I'm crazy.”
“You must be! Only a crazy man would ask a kid to fight a couple of demons!”
Dervish studies me quietly, then gets to his feet and picks up his Lord of the Rings chess set. He heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” I snap, lurching in front of him, blocking the way.
“I'm taking this down to the cellar,” he says. “I need to have five sets in place before I summon Lord Loss — each game is played on a separate board.”
“Didn't you hear me?” I hiss. “I won't do it! I'm not —”
“Grubbs,” he silences me with a smile. “It's OK. I asked. You refused. That's the end of it. It was a request, not a command.”
I glare at him suspiciously. “It was?”
He nods. “There are others who can help. One of my friends is a near grandmaster. He'll face Lord Loss. I'll handle Vein and Artery.” He nods at a plain chess board to my left. “But I'd be obliged if you'd help me carry the sets down.”
My eyes narrow. “If you're trying to trick me …”
“No tricks,” he says, and I believe him. Getting out of his way, I pick up the board and follow him out of the room.
Down the stairs to the main hall. Taking our time, careful not to drop any pieces. Thinking hard about what Dervish said.
“If you've got friends who can help,” I mutter, “why ask me?”
“Billy's your brother,” Dervish replies. “I thought you might want to be part of this.”
“But it doesn't make sense,” I press. “You need the best person for the job. Why offer it to me?”
“Ideally I want to face Lord Loss with someone who's proved their courage and ability under fire,” he says. “Some-one who's faced a demon and lived. I only personally know six people who've done that. Meera was one of them. But she can't do it now.”
“What about the others?”
“Four of them are currently out of contact.”
He reaches the door to the cellar and stops talking while he opens it with his elbows. Silence as we descend. I wait until we're at the wine rack that hides the entrance to the secret passageway before asking, “And the sixth?”
“You're the sixth,” he says, stepping forward into darkness.
The secret cellar. Five chess sets lie in place on the three tables, which we've shoved together, piling the books and other odds and ends on the floor. Dervish is lining up the pieces, making sure they're in the right places. Bill-E's still chewing on the deer carcass. He spits and snarls at us every so often.
Dervish hasn't said anything since our trip down with the first two boards. We've worked silently, carting in the boards and pieces, clearing the tables and rearranging them. It's only now, while I watch him adjust the pieces, that I work up the courage to broach the subject again.
