The wait was a form of torture Catherine had not anticipated. Locked in her library, she was a queen with no view of her own chessboard.
Every minute that stretched on was a minute that Soren, or another of The Rook's agents, could retrieve Mathieu's note, thereby erasing her only tangible lead.
Worse, they could be setting an ambush, waiting for her own agent to come and collect it.
She was blind and powerless, two states she had sworn she would never know again. Her hand clenched the file on the Fire, the worn leather a meager comfort.
The rage she felt toward The Rook was a pure, burning thing, but this new anxiety, the anguish of a strategist who has lost control of her pieces, was a cold and insidious thing.
She fought the furious urge to project her consciousness toward the Square of Scriptures. She knew now that the enemy could detect her.
Using her power would be like lighting a torch in a dark forest for a hunter already using night vision goggles. It was a risk she could no longer take. She had to trust her plan, Kenji's loyalty to his master, and Valerius's arrogance.
The hours passed. The sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Finally, she heard hasty footsteps in the corridor Valerius's. He entered the library without knocking, his face flushed with excitement and pride.
"Incredible!" he trumpeted.
"Absolutely incredible! Kenji has returned. He has the message from the spirits!"
Catherine rose slowly, her face a canvas of calm and weary focus, a performance that cost her every ounce of her will. "What happened?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
"An extraordinary affair!" Valerius said, pouring her a glass of wine she hadn't asked for. "Kenji and his men secured the square, as ordered. They found the loose stone under the bench. But just as Kenji was about to retrieve what was underneath, another player entered the stage."
Catherine's heart clenched, but her expression did not change.
"A priest," Valerius continued with a sneer. "But not just any priest. An Inquisitor of the Purifying Flame. One of those pale-faced fanatics. A certain Brother Micah, according to the insignia he wore. He appeared out of nowhere, like a bad omen."
Catherine waited, holding her breath.
"There was a confrontation," Valerius savored, as if recounting a scene from a play.
"This Brother Micah declared that the square was a place of 'spiritual corruption' and that he had to 'purify' everything in it. A barely veiled excuse to seize what we were looking for! He thought he could intimidate my men. But he ran into Kenji."
The pride in Valerius's voice was immense.
"Kenji was impeccable. He informed him that the square was under the jurisdiction of the Magistrate's Guard and that he, an agent of the Church, had no authority there.
He said that any attempt to interfere with an official operation of the Magistrate would be considered an act of sedition. Imagine the audacity!"
Catherine could imagine it all too well. She imagined the cold tension, two predators sizing each other up, neither wanting to trigger an open conflict between two of the city's greatest powers.
"The Inquisitor insisted, speaking of his divine right. Kenji didn't budge. He simply said, 'Your divine right ends where the Magistrate's law begins.
Take one more step, and we shall see which faith is stronger, yours or the faith my men have in their steel.' In the end, the Inquisitor, seeing he would get nowhere without a bloodbath, conceded.
He just stood there, watching, as Kenji retrieved the note. Then he turned on his heel and vanished."
Valerius handed her a small, sealed roll of paper. "Here it is. Your message from the spirits, hard-won."
Catherine took the note, her fingers as cold as ice.
She had succeeded. It was a miracle. She now had Jun-Ho Park's address. She felt a brief moment of triumph, immediately swept away by a nagging question. Why was the Church there?
"Kenji is a remarkable man," she said in a neutral voice.
"The best," Valerius boasted. "He is certain he wasn't followed on his way back. But he mentioned something strange. One last observation before I leave you to your... mysteries."
"Oh?"
Valerius leaned toward her, his tone becoming more confidential.
"He said the Inquisitor, Brother Micah, wasn't really looking at him or his men. He was staring at the stone under the bench, as if he already knew something was there. And just before he left, Kenji saw him stoop and pick something up off the ground. A single leaf."
Catherine felt the floor give way beneath her. The leaf.
"Kenji said it was strange," Valerius continued, oblivious to the subtle shift in Catherine's posture.
"A sycamore leaf, but scorched around the edges, as if it had been touched by an invisible flame. He didn't pay it much mind. Probably just a meaningless piece of debris."
But Catherine knew. It was not debris. It was a signature. It was the trail she herself had created, the aborted plan to use Rick. The Inquisitor wasn't there by chance. He wasn't there for The Rook, or for Mathieu.
He was there for her.
The Church wasn't just monitoring her communications; they had investigated her past actions, her contacts, however insignificant.
They were on Rick's trail. Her
plan to save Mathieu had now endangered not one, but two of her pawns.
She looked at the note in her hand, containing the address for her vengeance. It was a victory. But a victory that had just cost her far more than she had imagined. The chessboard now had three colors, and two of them were after her Queen.