Back Chain of Iron
Chapters (49)
  1. Dedication
  2. PART ONE
  3. LONDON: EAST END
  4. 1 THE BRIGHT WEB
  5. 2 ALL THAT TURNS
  6. GRACE: 1893–1896
  7. 3 BITTER AND SWEET
  8. 4 A GOOD NAME
  9. 5 THE KING IS DEAD
  10. LONDON: 48 CURZON STREET
  11. 6 THINGS TO COME
  12. GRACE: 1896
  13. 7 TREAD LIGHTLY
  14. LONDON: FINCH LANE
  15. 8 TO BRING A FIRE
  16. 9 THE SCARS REMAINING
  17. LONDON: SHOE LANE
  18. 10 THE DAMNED EARTH
  19. GRACE: 1897
  20. 11 CROWNS AND POUNDS AND GUINEAS
  21. LONDON: SHEPHERD MARKET
  22. 12 REQUIEM
  23. GRACE: 1899
  24. 13 THE WINTRY WIND
  25. 14 THE FLAMING FORGE
  26. 15 WALK BY DAYTIME
  27. 16 DARK BREAKS TO DAWN
  28. LONDON: GOLDEN SQUARE
  29. PART TWO
  30. 17 PROPHET OF EVIL
  31. 18 GOBLIN MARKET
  32. 19 THINE OWN PALACE
  33. 20 EQUAL TEMPER
  34. GRACE: 1899–1900
  35. 21 HELL’S OWN TRACK
  36. 22 HEART OF IRON
  37. GRACE: 1903
  38. 23 A SILKEN THREAD
  39. 24 HE SHALL RISE
  40. 25 ARCHANGEL RUINED
  41. 26 OLDER THAN GODS
  42. 27 WAKE WITH WINGS
  43. GRACE: 1900
  44. 28 NO WISE MAN
  45. 29 A BROKEN MIRROR
  46. Epilogue
  47. NOTES ON THE TEXT
  48. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  49. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“—and when we attend one, you must appear to be wildly devoted to me the entire time.” She had finally gotten the comb untangled, and pulled it free. It must have been holding up more of the architecture of her coiffure than she’d imagined: her hair came tumbling down, brushing her bared shoulders. “All right?”

She had expected James to laugh, but he didn’t. He was staring at her. She felt herself blush—had what she said been too audacious? She had only meant to joke, but James looked as if she had mortally surprised him. His eyes had gone a dark gold.

She glanced down at the chessboard and saw that James had left himself open. She quickly moved her queen into a position that threatened both a knight and his king.

“Check,” she said.

“So it is,” James said, his voice oddly rough. “Cordelia, I—”

“You had better make your move,” she said. “It’s your turn.”

“Right.” He studied the board before moving a knight. “I was thinking—our best chance of success is to share everything with each other. Perhaps every night, we should each be able to ask the other a question. Something we want to know about the other, and the question must be answered truthfully.”

Cordelia felt a little short of breath. What if he asked—? No. He wouldn’t. “Or,” she said, “what if only the winner could ask a question?”

“The winner?”

“Every night we play a game,” she said, indicating the chessboard. “The winner of each game should earn something. Not money, but the right to ask something of the other.”

James tented his hands and looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ll agree on one condition. The loser gets to choose the next game. Chess, or draughts, or cards. Whatever they like.”

“Fine. I’ll match my wits with yours at any game you choose. Though I prefer chess. It was invented in Persia, you know.”

His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment. Then he looked down, returning his focus to the board. “I hadn’t heard that.”

Cordelia examined the placement of a rook on the board. “Do you know the Shahnameh?”

“The Book of Kings,” said James. “Persian legends.”