Grand Game 250: Head and Heart (Patreon)

“We heard everything,” Tartar confirmed. His gold-flecked eyes brimming with fury, the minotaur kept his gaze pinned on Loken. “Your intrigues know no end, jester.”

The stick-thin figure standing in the minotaur’s shadow waved his neon-green appendages in the air, signifying agreement. There was a healthy dose of trembling rage mixed in the gesture, too, I thought. Tartar’s companion was Menaq, of course. The faction head of the Mantises was present here at Tartar’s behest.

I rose to my feet, hands dropping to hover near the hilt of sheathed blades. We were in a safe zone, and conventional wisdom said I had nothing to fear, but conventional wisdom had been wrong before, and there was no telling what would happen next.

Of course, there was little I could do against any one of the three Powers in the room if they chose to act against me, but knowing my weapons were close made me feel safe, and I kept my hands where they were while I watched Loken to see how he’d react.

For a nearly imperceptible moment, the Shadow Power seemed frozen, his gaze jumping from Tartar to Menaq. Then, much to my consternation, a slow grin spread across his face.

Turning his back on Tartar and Menaq—in what I suspected was a deliberate insult—Loken spun towards me. “You’ve tricked me.” He clapped his hands in glee. “How marvelous!”

I was not the only one confounded by Loken’s reaction.

Tartar’s brows drew down, and his mustache quivered. It was not a good sign. Menaq, who very much resembled the mantises his faction was named after, stalked forward. “How dare you use my disciples in your foul games, trickster!” He paused, seemingly overcome by rage. “You will pay for this!” he screeched.

Loken yawned. “Threats. How boring.”

Damnation, I cursed, impressed despite myself by the Shadow Power’s aplomb.

Menaq took another angry step, but before he could lay hands—or forelegs rather—on Loken, Tartar spoke, “Don’t.”

That one word was enough to keep Menaq in place and made clear where the balance of power lay between the two Dark Powers.

I sighed, disappointed by the somewhat-lackluster finale to my scheming. I’d been relishing this moment, looking forward to seeing Loken humbled and disgraced, but once again, the Shadow Power had defeated my expectations. Except for that tiny split-second when his poise had faltered, Loken appeared unfazed and was already taking matters in his stride.

I should’ve known better, I thought. Still, the important thing was that my plan had succeeded, and I had to be content with that. “Do you have what you need?” I asked, addressing Tartar.

The god-emperor nodded. “Yes. You have kept your promise and have delivered the proof I requested. You have my word that the mantis’ hunt will end.” He said this without glancing at the other Power as if there was no doubt of Menaq’s agreement.

The mantis’ master shot me a glare only slightly less hate-filled than the one he’d directed at Loken. Despite this, he addressed me politely enough. “It is as Tartar has said,” Menaq said. “The hunt will be called off.”

“And?” Tartar prompted mildly.

“And your slaughter of my disciples will be forgiven,” Menaq finished, seeming to choke on the words as he forced them out. He cast Loken a look full of loathing. “That debt will be laid at another’s door.”

Loken snorted derisively.

“Thank you,” I said fervently to both Dark Powers, ignoring the trickster’s interjection.

Menaq nodded curtly, and a moment later, the Game message I’d been awaiting arrived.

Congratulations, Michael! You have completed the task: Preying Mantises! As a result of your efforts, you’ve stopped the mantis’ hunt.

The Marks on your spirit signature have changed. Using both your wiles and fists, you have accomplished what few have and survived the mantises. Not only did you put an end to their kill order, but you’ve also uncovered the identity of the one who marked you for death. Wolf is pleased, and your Mark has deepened.

Seeing my focus turn inwards, Tartar nodded. “That concludes our transaction, thief.” Gesturing his companion forward, the minotaur headed towards the door. Pausing there, he turned to me. “When you are done here, come see me.” His gaze flickered to Loken. “This is not the end of the matter,” he warned.

The Shadow Power rolled his eyes but stayed silent.

“I have use for one such as you,” Tartar continued, addressing me again. And unlike some others, you can rest assured I will not attempt to bind you through deceit nor treat with you dishonestly. I take care of my Sworn.”

Despite the unsubtle jibe directed at him, Loken remained tightlipped, his tapping foot the only sign of his impatience. With a last glare at the Shadow Power, Tartar and Menaq exited the suite.

As if he had been waiting for just this moment, the instant the door swung shut, Loken whipped around to face me.

✵ ✵ ✵

“Blowhard,” Loken snorted with a contemptuous glance at the door.

I stared at the Power, surprised by his continued presence in the room. I’d expected Loken to storm out when my trickery was revealed.

My scheme, of course, had been to expose Loken to Tartar and Menaq with the expectation that once Loken’s deceit was revealed, the mantises would withdraw from their hunt, and as far as that went, my ploy had succeeded.

Of course, I could have always gone to Loken himself and attempted to use my knowledge as leverage. But the trickster had gotten the upper hand on me before. It was less risky, I’d decided, to use the other Powers to trick Loken than to try and force him into a Pact on my own.

Even better, while Tartar had made no firm commitment to remove Loken’s tracking spell, he had implied he would do so for the right inducement. And Dark Power or not, I felt I could expect a fairer deal from the god-emperor than I could from Loken. All in all, matters seemed to have turned out well

Except Loken had not left. What’s he up to now?

The Power smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Michael, please don’t tell me,” he said in a strained voice, “that you believe all that bull-face’s patter about honor and truth? Tartar will use you just as hard as any other Power.”

My lips tightened. Once again, Loken had guessed the direction of my thoughts. “The better question,” I retorted, “is what are you still doing here?”

Loken stared at me blankly.

“I just betrayed you, remember?” I snapped in exasperation. “I can’t imagine we have much to talk about anymore.”

The corners of Loken’s mouth twitched. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that! Aren’t you angry?”

The jester tilted his head to the side. “Why? Do you want me to be?”

I ground my teeth together but wisely refrained from answering.

“It was a masterful ploy,” Loken admitted. “Almost worthy of me, in fact. But perhaps, not one as well thought out as you think.”

I glared at the Power, not wanting to bite but eventually conceding. “And why’s that?”

“An excellent question,” Loken said, beaming approvingly.

“Just tell me,” I growled.

Loken chuckled at my expression. “What you have failed to factor in this genius plan of yours, my boy, is the danger of Tartar’s interest. You’ve poked the bear, or as it were, the bull. Despite that oaf’s bluff exterior, he is not as simple-minded as he would want you to believe. Tartar may not be as shrewd as me, but he will be watching you now. Be careful, Michael. Be very careful.”

I paid Loken’s words no heed. His ploy was obvious. The trickster was trying to seed doubt where there was none. Far more confounding, though, was his lack of animosity. “You’re truly not angry?” I asked, gazing searchingly at him.

“Why would I be?” Loken asked, reseating himself. “I’ve told you before, dear boy, emotions have no part in the Game. You got the better of me, true. And well done to you for that. But in the grand scheme of things, it is only a minor blip in my plans.”

I gaped at him, finding it hard to come to terms with his reaction.

Loken sighed. “You still don’t understand, I see. But you will—someday. Play the Game with your head Michael, not your heart.” Sitting back and steepling his fingers, Loken looked over them at me. “Now sit. We have much to talk about.”

I didn’t move.

Nothing was stopping me from leaving. I could walk out the door and be done with Loken. But the Power knew too much about my secrets for me to be done with him that simply.

“I’m curious,” Loken said suddenly. “What made you believe I wouldn’t tell Tartar and Menaq the truth about your heritage?”

I threw the Power a sharp glance, not missing the thinly-veiled threat.

“I took a gamble,” I said bluntly.

Loken studied me with interest. “A gamble?”

I nodded. “I judged if you wanted them to know, you would have told them already.” I held the Power’s gaze. “I suspect you’re playing a game of your own, something that stops you from revealing my secrets.”

Loken raised one eyebrow. “And you risked everything on this suspicion?”

I nodded curtly.

Loken. “Now, I am impressed.”

When I still didn’t move, Loken leaned forward. “Sit,” he ordered, his face devoid of expression. “It’s time we had a much longer chat.”

Knowing I had no choice, and even knowing I would likely regret it, I did as Loken bade and sat.