Because You Love to Hate Me(5)

Altais continued sliding her fingers across the console screen and pushing several more buttons. A round table emerged from the smooth floor behind them. Two white chairs followed suit.

The d’jaryek board lay in the table’s center. Black and white squares cut at a diagonal across its entire round surface. Along the table’s edges were the game’s controls. D’jaryek was first and foremost a game of survival.

His sister positioned herself before the controllers on the right. With a sigh, Rhone took his place opposite.

They both struck the switches that brought the board to life. As with the toy carbines, the board flickered, the lights wavering in place before settling on paler, grainier versions of themselves.

When the images finally cleared, a portion of Rhone’s pieces on the d’jaryek board fluttered to life. His pawns were sharply curving antlers. His soldiers were gazelles—the craftiest of all the possible avatars. Altais’s pawns were cats’ paws, her soldiers spotted cheetahs—the swiftest of all the avatars in the game of d’jaryek.

Rhone frowned. He folded his left hand atop his right, taking time to choose his words. “Do you suppose it says something that the game chose a cat as your avatar?”

“No. Unless you believe there’s meaning behind the fact that your avatar is commonly the food of mine.” A mischievous sparkle alighted Altais’s gaze.

“Only if they are caught.” His frown deepened.

“Then, by all means, let’s see who catches whom.”

A dial sputtered to life in the center of the d’jaryek board. Both Rhone and Altais struck it.

Rhone won the right to move one of his pieces first—an antler shifted two spaces forward.

Altais mirrored his move.

They played in silence for a time.

When Rhone looked up from the board after his fourth move, he saw his sister staring at him, a thoughtful expression lingering on her face.

“What?” he demanded.

“Are you still very mad at me and Mother?”

Rhone shifted in his seat. “I was never angry in the first place.”

“Why do you lie to me so much, Rho? I know you better than anyone else.”

“I wasn’t angry.” His tone was clipped.

Altais sighed. “Would it matter if I told you I was sorry?”

“I was never angry!” Rhone’s voice rose in pitch until the final word bordered on a shout.

His sister shot him a pointed glare. “You’re a terrible liar, by the way. It was part of the reason why Mother and I thought politics would be trying for you.”

Rhone pinched his eyes shut, trying to control his temper.

He attempted to clarify. “I was never—”

“Rhone!”

“Damn it, Altais, let me finish, for once!” His thunderous cry echoed throughout the chamber.

Altais leaned back and waved a hand for him to continue.

“I was never angry,” Rhone repeated. “But I was disappointed. You—” He toyed with a d’jaryek piece, his hands flitting across the control screen. The holographic antler spun in place. “You will have the sovereignty of Oranith. It’s your birthright. And possibly all of Isqandia. I thought to make a name for myself, too, within our Caucus. I am not certain why you and Mother were so against it.”

Altais took a deep breath. “Father did not think it a wise idea, either.”

“And why is that?” Rhone’s shoulders tightened. He refrained from turning his hands to fists. “Since when did Father ever bother to share his opinion on such matters?”

“We”—she hesitated, chewing on her lower lip—“hoped you would stay on Isqandia and help with everything here.”

Anger collected in Rhone’s chest. “Do you wish for me to be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I think you are afraid I will outshine you if I represent our interests in the Caucus.”

With that, Altais made a sudden move on the d’jaryek board. Two of Rhone’s gazelles were taken down by a single cheetah, the cat lunging for the gazelles’ throats, ripping them out with vicious precision.

As the d’jaryek board whisked away the pieces, Rhone and Altais stared at each other in heated silence.

“Now,” she began anew, “do you wish for me to be honest with you?”

“Of course,” Rhone said, mocking her earlier response.

Altais rolled her eyes. “The Caucus harbors the best and the worst minds in our corner of the galaxy.”

“And you fancy me among the worst?” Rhone sneered as he directed his d’jaryek controllers forward, three into the fray. The move was a gamble. A tactical maneuver meant to lure his opponent into confidence.

He watched as Altais chose her words, almost rolling them in her mouth to see if they tasted right. “We don’t want you to be seduced into the wrong side of the Caucus. The side that acts first and thinks later.”

Rhone’s anger flared even brighter. Even higher. “Am I a silly child in need of guidance?”

“No. But you—you tend to let your emotions rule you. And that serves no one in a place that desperately needs logic and reason. The discussions that take place in the Caucus are often—”

“Enough!” As soon as his anger burst, Rhone tried to take control of it. He refused to prove his younger sister right. “I am not ruled by my emotions.” His words were still clipped.