The room door opens and I step back. Uncle comes back into the room, and I tuck the sketch behind my back, underneath the one of Mireille.
“My apologies. I had to speak at length with Mireille. I hope he hasn’t disturbed you.”
I shake my head, unable to trust my voice right now.
“She’s been a charming visitor, even if she doesn’t say much.” Droger smiles at me. “She was kind enough to look at some of my artwork.”
“Yes, it seems you’ve made good use of your time.” Uncle remarks dryly as he looks at the walls.
“I’ve not wasted a moment of it. Honing my skills, researching and planning…I’ve actually been quite busy.” Droger puts his hands on the bars, rubbing them over the grates. “We’ve both ascended, old man.” His hands travel up over the bars. “Just in different places.”
“If that is your view-” Uncle reaches into his pocket for the crumpled letter, but Droger jerks the bars sharply and interrupts him.
“But it’s more than my view. It’s the truth. In our respective areas, we’ve done well. Look at you- you’re at the top of your game. And I’ve done so well in mine, that I’m soon to be released. So it will be interesting…” his hands now slide slowly back down the bars. "for us to play the same game.”
“I have no interest in a game with you.” Uncle grips the letter in his hand.
“Oh but you will- if we want the same prize.” Droger's lip curls in a smirk.
Uncle’s face darkens. I watch him crumple the letter in his hand. Droger leans forward as far as his face will go through the bars, his hair hanging outside the grates, curling down like a wild mane over his shoulders. His expression hardens and his eyes gleam with intensity. He looks like a wolf ready to pounce.
“I’m looking forward to our next chess match. I don’t intend to lose this time.”
“Really? Find yourself some new knights?” Uncle asks. I suddenly remember the knights attacking us on the roof, their faces hidden behind those white masks.
“No- a powerful Queen.” Droger breaks into a dark smile.
“One that all the knights will fear and obey.” He looks at me, as if we share some secret.
My eyes widen. Mireille.
“We shall see about that.” Uncle says stiffly, taking my hand and leading me from the room. I clutch my sketch of Mireille tightly, as if Droger may take her again.
Uncle drops my hand, whips out his cell phone and punches a number. “I’m afraid the situation has become very grave.” he speaks into the phone.
I feel my breath quicken, my own personal fears giving way to other thoughts.
“Impossible.” I whisper to myself. I quicken my pace to keep up with Uncle, who is now striding quickly towards the exit.
I remember how Droger had touched Mirielle's picture, and my stomach twists into a nauseated knot. My kidnapping- had that been nothing more than a practice run to obtain Mireille? My stomach twists even more at the thought, as I realize that I alone cannot protect her. I clutch my sketch and look up at Uncle, with his broad shoulders and greying hair, walking ahead of me. Soldats. How ironic that what Mireille hates most, we need now to protect us.
“Uncle- where is Mireille?” I tug on his jacket, interrupting him. He shakes his head in annoyance and looks down at me.
“I sent her back in the other limo. She’s safe.” He purses his lips. “Unless she does something rash.” He returns to his conversation on the phone.
Rash…I hurry quickly to our limo. I must get home to Mireille immediately.

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