Page 179 of House of Lilith

Usually, in multiplayer, you roll the dice for it. But here, there’s no such thing, so everyone does what I do, trying to gauge which of the six slices of territories is the juiciest.

I see Max walk over to the biggest one, pale metal with studs all over. And there’s a smile on his face, as if he’s particularly pleased with his choice, as he climbs into it and looks down at me.

“Compensating for something, Aalders?” I hear Howe say as he picks a smaller one, made of carved bones.

“Mind your own fucking business, Howe,” Max snaps at him.

I roll my eyes.

And I walk up to the one I’ll call Shadow Throne, a beautiful thing made of something black and ethereal, like wisps of dark magic.

I climb up and I take my seat, letting my eyes sweep over Ricky in a throne of gnarled wood, Lorcan of molten lava, and Aine just getting settled into the one of glowing crystals.

And as soon as she does, the entire board starts glowing, the audience bursting into cheering and the throne under me vibrating with life.

It’s only then that it hits me, what it means — playing this game with five other people and Hourglass dictating its duration.

There won’t necessarily be a single winner, just like in multiplayer Shadowscape. Everyone still holding onto their armies by the end will be proclaimed winners.

My lips tug into a smile. And it’s going to be Max and me.

*

The glow dies down and the throne under me goes back to feeling lifeless. And just as I wonder how exactly I’ll be able to make my moves, the board produces this soft clicking sound.

And it rotates, quickly, by ninety degrees, and then comes to a full stop, making that sound again.

Fuck. I chose myself a good piece of land only to have it switched out for a wasteland, I think as I stare at the stretch of black sand before me.

In Shadowscape, there are only two ways to win.

Take the Tower.

Or take everything.

And everyone starts with an army of the same size, I think as I let my eyes sweep across the board, a hundred or so miniature soldiers on each slice of land, divided into two. But it’s important what kind of land you’re on because of the resources.

Andmyshit land seems to have none, unlike Max’s with the mountain, Ricky’s with the pastures, Lorcan’s with the city, Aine’s with the forest and Howe’s with the river.

Just as I think that, Howe’s throne glows, signaling his is the first move.

He has two choices now, attack or pass. If he passes, he might be rewarded with new resources, thus making his army stronger. Or he can attack and take more territory for himself.

And his land is sandwiched between Max’s and Aine’s, so it doesn’t surprise me when his lips curl into a smile and, without me seeing how, he uses his army to attack Max.

But it does surprise me when the clashing armies get swept up into the air and enlarged, the crowd going wild as an actual battle starts to unravel before all our eyes.

It gives me a thrill, making me eager to make my own move, when Howe’s soldiers wipe the floor with Max’s, blood spraying, and most of Max’s forces get pulled into Howe’s little slice of land.

But as soon as that happens, I hear this sickening sound followed by gasps from the audience.

My head snaps to Max, who’s gritting his teeth, nasty gashes covering his entire body.

Fuck fuck fuck, I curse to myself as soon as I realize what’s going on. Whatever injuries your forces sustain in battle, you suffer them yourself.

It seems this will be a painful ride.

I look away as soon as the Game chooses Max as the next player, my eyes fixing on my own territory, trying to decide whether I should play this the way I normally do — going for the other player’s territories.

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