Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's too hot.
No, too cold.
When had she stopped being able to tell the difference?
Maybe it was both—the two pulsing spots on her temples were so hot that everything else felt cold in comparison. But it wasn't the cold her body had been braced for. Not the ice.
A hand on her face. Something wedged between her teeth. It was hot again, and someone was screaming. It sounded like pain.
She breathed through her nose, as deeply as she could, but something was constricting her chest, holding her in place, like they thought she might try to run.
The ghosts gathered in front of her. One in white, the other in black, opposing pieces across a chessboard.
"I'm trusting you," the white king said, and the black queen responded, "We don't need blank slate. Don't make her start over."
"This is a far bigger gambit than you seen to believe," said the white king.
A queen's gambit, she thought. But a queen's gambit wasn't a true gambit. Somebody taught her that once. Long ago. In another life. Maybe in a dream.
She must've been dreaming. There was a woman—a friend, and a river, and when a song began to play, she laughed with her face to the sky—because the sky was every girl's best friend. She offered her a hand, and said she'd show her the North Star.
"We'll take precautions," said the queen.
"Be sure you do," said the king. As he drifted from her vision, she heard him say, "You'll need a higher voltage, or we'll be here all night."
And then the heat returned. The screaming started again.
She closed her eyes and waited for the cold.
Meme of the day
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
