The Chess Box

As a connoisseur of words, Drey favored precise language whenever possible. This day, this sentiment, these last moments bound heart-to-heart with the love of his life; this was bittersweet.

  They pressed their foreheads together, hands at the nape of each other’s necks, and said a final goodbye. They would live in the same home and continue to raise their children together, but the twining of their minds would unravel as—

  Drey gasped, as his love severed the connection. He’d anticipated something gentle, an unfurling of their essences into distinct beings once again, but all he felt was profound silence, absence.

  Nell was gone.

  Drey choked back the sob that threatened to invade their newfound solitude. He reminded himself that, in a matter of mere hours, he would share the mental link with another. Where Nell represented his past, Tarragon held all of his future.

  Drey stepped away from Nell, away from the loose auburn curls of his head and his tawny, knowing eyes. He rippled his wings once. “Well, then,” he managed.

  Nell laughed, inscrutable. Drey had spent so many years inside Nell’s head, knowing each emotion as well as he knew his own, that to see him from the outside felt like an impossible challenge: How could he ever know Nell’s thoughts and heart? Nell masked himself behind humor and food and rarely gave of his true self to anyone.

  “I’ll just…” Drey smoothed the absurd outfit he’d donned for this occasion: A safari costume he’d found, complete with oculars and a translucent magnifying box in which to study specimens.

  He needed time, perhaps just a moment to grieve and to recover, before he faced his future.

  Nell stepped into the shadows of their vestibule. An instant later, footsteps scuffed along the stones outside. They stopped in front of this door.

  Drey drew a deep breath as the door opened and Tarragon stepped into the room. On the surface, Tarragon was as unlike Nell as could be: Square and forbidding, brunette, contemplative, but beneath that…both Nell and Tarragon had incomparable depth and a passion for adventure. Their biggest difference lay in their desire for debate: Tarragon would discuss a matter into the ground with Drey, into the yawning hours of the night, until both of them were sure they’d addressed every aspect of it.

  Drey couldn’t fight the smile that stretched across his face. He didn’t even try. 

  Tarragon took in the safari outfit with a bemused expression and breathed, “Hello.”

  As always, that word alone, on Tarragon’s tongue, was enough to plummet Drey’s stomach in carnal hunger. He felt his lip turn up at the corner. “Hello.”

  “What’s this about?” Tarragon asked, a mix of curiosity and reservation. 

  Drey held out a second safari costume, one size up from Drey’s to accommodate Tarragon’s larger frame. “I’m afraid you’ll have to dress the part, to find out.”

  Enticing creature that he was, Tarragon chose to strip there in the vestibule, removing first his tunic and then his slacks. He stood for a moment, resplendent and sculpted, before he slid into the safari shorts and loafers. Drey helped him with the buttons of the collared button-down top, reveling in the light touch as the backs of his fingers grazed Tarragon’s skin.

  “How do I look?” Tarragon asked.

  Drey pressed his lips to Tarragon’s. What he looked was ridiculously, unnervingly attractive, with those intelligent eyes and that well-manicured body. “Dashing, as always.” He tucked his own safari shirttail into the shorts. “Did you have a long day or a good day?”

  Tarragon had opted to teach geography, when presented with a choice of careers. He could easily have done military, politics, mathematics, any number of languages, realm history…

  His choice of geography was the reason for Drey’s choice of how today would progress.

  “Both,” Tarragon said. He reached for Drey’s hand and together they transported to Drey’s target destination: A small felucca drifting on a shallow, wide river where the reeds of shore were just visible before the earth stretched up toward a jungle, mountainous and wild.

  The deck of the boat contained one table with two chairs, and on the table sat a three-dimensional chess board, set for a new game. The sails were secure, the river wide enough that for an hour or two they could afford to drift wherever the wind took them.

  Tarragon sat behind the black chess pieces. “This is lovely.”

  Drey gestured toward the on-deck sideboard, where a full spread of fresh fruits, meats, crackers, and cheeses sat waiting to be consumed. “A full spread of edibles, and the entire boat is warded against insects and food spoilage.”

  Sparks graced the contours of Tarragon’s skin as his eyes dug into Drey’s, searching for explication.

  Drey afforded him nothing more than a mild smile, which Tarragon answered by feeding him a cube of cheese and planting a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Was your day so difficult you had to cancel your normal schedule?”

  Drey moved a pawn and watched Tarragon note the move. He knew Tarragon’s mind would be busy narrowing down which strategies Drey was likely to use, given his first move. “Today is the anniversary of a very special moment.”

  “Ah.” Tarragon moved a piece. Drey surmised that his mind was now split between the game itself and coursing through his memories of their time together, on a quest for what they’d done this date on previous years.

  As Drey expected, nothing unique or special came to Tarragon’s mind. After a moment he admitted minor defeat. “Yes. The very special moment of…?”

  Smug, Drey bit his lip. “What did you cover in class today?”

  Tarragon shook off his frustration with a laugh. “Today, we examined the spread of disease in relation to geographical conditions, considering population densities and average temperature and humidity.”

  Drey looked around as the game commenced with more intensity. After a brief stretch of the mutual silence that accompanied concentration, Drey remarked, “This area seems primed for the spread of illness.”

  “It is.” Tarragon raised an eyebrow. “Intending to catch something? It could be exciting.”

  Yes, Drey intended to catch one thing today, and one thing only. “Perhaps.” He moved his castle against the black king. “Check.”

  As expected, Tarragon moved his bishop. He looked up at Drey, amused, assured now of his win. It was just what Drey intended.

  “What do you think I should catch?” Drey teased.

  For a moment, Tarragon was distracted, his eyes locked with Drey’s. A feral hunger overcame his expression. “Hmm…”

  Drey self-sabotaged, moving his pawn in a way that locked his king into place, an easy target.

  Tarragon laughed and slid his knight into place; the obvious move. “Check.”

  Drey grinned. It was almost time for the purpose of this excursion. His fingers tingled with the thrill of it. He moved his king one place to the left. Now all Tarragon had to do was move his pawn into place and claim victory.

  On the other side of the board, Tarragon moved an innocuous castle over one place.

  Drey tensed. Was this how it would go? A contest to see who could lose most effectively?

  He was up for the challenge. He shifted a pawn away from its protective place near the queen.

  “What is today?” Tarragon asked: It was at once a flirt, a challenge, and another small victory for Drey.

  He smirked and bit his lip again. “Sendvish.” He gave a day of the week, nothing more.

  Tarragon rose and walked around the table. “What is today the anniversary of?” he asked. He ran a line of sparks down Drey’s neck, waking the nerve endings on every surface of Drey’s body.

  He wanted to melt into Tarragon’s touch, into hours of physical and intellectual intimacy, but he held his ground. There would be time for the other matters soon enough, and this was a game of patience, of reward worth every agonizing second of wait. “If you win,” Drey said, shifting away, “I’ll tell you.”

  Tarragon lifted the pawn in question and knocked it into Drey’s king. “Checkmate.”

  Once the king was effectively toppled, it revealed the small skeleton key set into its base. “Hmm,” Tarragon said. He ran another line of sparks along Drey’s jaw and down his torso. With the key, he unlocked the keyhole in the side of one of the cubes on the three-dimensional chess board. Within it sat a hand-carved wood ring, with braided blue and fiery color strands along the center.

  Tarragon laughed and held the ring in his hand, a question in his eyes.

“Today,” Drey confirmed, “is the zeroth anniversary of me asking you to be my husband.”

  Tarragon slipped the ring over his left finger and met Drey’s eyes with smoldering intensity. “The anniversary of our engagement.”

  Drey kissed him, and let his fire magic blur their figures as he tangled his hands in Tarragon’s sable curls: different curls from Nell’s, a different mind, but absolutely Drey’s home. He was eager to establish the mental link and move forward together. “The day our past merged with our future.” He deepened the kiss. “I came here to catch you.”

  Tarragon smiled against his mouth, the promise of ten thousand tomorrows. “You succeeded.”