from Jacqueline.
Muns.
Abby stepped to the side of the hall to get out of the flow of students walking to their next classes. Why was he sending her another message? To congratulate her and all those who sided with her grandpa for stopping him on the Hindenburg ? No way. But if he did, it might be enough to cheer her up after a slew of bad grades.
She ran the same security checks on the message as she had before. Once again, it was clean, and once again, she clicked on the video to see Muns in a suit with his slicked-back hair.
“Hello again, Abigail,” he said. He sat in the same cushy chair in the same exuberant office. “I thought perhaps that I owed you a follow-up chat. Sadly, I have not heard from you or from your friends . . . at least nothing worth mentioning.” Abby smiled remembering that Carol said she was going to tell him to take a flaming leap into a lake of gasoline. She also said she was going to recommend he play Dracula or Satan in a movie. Perhaps she had really sent the message. “I’m left to assume you are siding with your grandfather, or still deciding. I hope to be more persuasive today.”
Persuasive? Muns just lost. What could he say?
He shook his index finger, a large ring at its base. “I’m not sure if you were involved at all in a certain . . . incident a few nights ago. I was hoping it would have ended with the safe landing of a magnificent dirigible, saving more than thirty lives as well as a fascinating transportation industry. But sadly, someone—or someone s —let the tragedy happen all over again. We had the chance to stop it, and they stole it from me. Those who do not share my vision prevented a great intervention prematurely.”
Abby’s heart beat faster hearing Muns himself admit they had beat him. It felt great to think that the man who had been so confident was now at least set back in his plans.
Muns leaned forward in his chair. “Of course, I could only see anyone who entered into the past. This time it was not you. It was a new face, someone I hadn’t seen before. I am hoping that you heeded my warning and stayed clear of this. If you did not, you cannot keep such things secret from me for long.”
Yep. Still really creepy.
He leaned back again. “Abby, perhaps you enjoy a good game of chess.” He moved his arm to show a checkered board on his desk with pieces intricately carved to look like soldiers, castles, and royalty. The base of each piece appeared to be solid gold. Abby noticed both the king and queen pieces had what looked like real jewels in their crowns. The pieces did not stand in their starting positions, but as though a game were in progress.
Chess was not where Abby would have guessed Muns was heading with his message.
“I am quite the chess fan; I am known to be rather good at it. I think that for today’s message, a history lesson might prove helpful. I will use your grandfather’s Bridge to show you.”
Abby’s temperature rose. Muns had broken into her grandfather’s house and stolen that Bridge.
The image cut away from Muns. Abby saw the faded image of two men sitting across from each other at a restaurant with a chessboard between them. At least it was a faded image. Muns could not mess with this past without storing up for another energy burst or gaining two more keys.
The men wore old-fashioned suits and one had a beard that only grew underneath his jaw. She was glad that fashion hadn’t returned. “The first real international chess tournament,” Muns narrated, “was in London in 1851, and the man with the beard won. He was a German named Adolf Anderssen.” Abby watched as the two men exchanged moves, stroking their chins and evidently thinking very intensely about each move. “But this game is very famous. It was called ‘The Immortal Game,’ and it happened at a local restaurant between rounds of an official tournament.”
Why did she care about the history of chess? Was Muns trying to bore her into submission?
Muns.
Abby stepped to the side of the hall to get out of the flow of students walking to their next classes. Why was he sending her another message? To congratulate her and all those who sided with her grandpa for stopping him on the Hindenburg ? No way. But if he did, it might be enough to cheer her up after a slew of bad grades.
She ran the same security checks on the message as she had before. Once again, it was clean, and once again, she clicked on the video to see Muns in a suit with his slicked-back hair.
“Hello again, Abigail,” he said. He sat in the same cushy chair in the same exuberant office. “I thought perhaps that I owed you a follow-up chat. Sadly, I have not heard from you or from your friends . . . at least nothing worth mentioning.” Abby smiled remembering that Carol said she was going to tell him to take a flaming leap into a lake of gasoline. She also said she was going to recommend he play Dracula or Satan in a movie. Perhaps she had really sent the message. “I’m left to assume you are siding with your grandfather, or still deciding. I hope to be more persuasive today.”
Persuasive? Muns just lost. What could he say?
He shook his index finger, a large ring at its base. “I’m not sure if you were involved at all in a certain . . . incident a few nights ago. I was hoping it would have ended with the safe landing of a magnificent dirigible, saving more than thirty lives as well as a fascinating transportation industry. But sadly, someone—or someone s —let the tragedy happen all over again. We had the chance to stop it, and they stole it from me. Those who do not share my vision prevented a great intervention prematurely.”
Abby’s heart beat faster hearing Muns himself admit they had beat him. It felt great to think that the man who had been so confident was now at least set back in his plans.
Muns leaned forward in his chair. “Of course, I could only see anyone who entered into the past. This time it was not you. It was a new face, someone I hadn’t seen before. I am hoping that you heeded my warning and stayed clear of this. If you did not, you cannot keep such things secret from me for long.”
Yep. Still really creepy.
He leaned back again. “Abby, perhaps you enjoy a good game of chess.” He moved his arm to show a checkered board on his desk with pieces intricately carved to look like soldiers, castles, and royalty. The base of each piece appeared to be solid gold. Abby noticed both the king and queen pieces had what looked like real jewels in their crowns. The pieces did not stand in their starting positions, but as though a game were in progress.
Chess was not where Abby would have guessed Muns was heading with his message.
“I am quite the chess fan; I am known to be rather good at it. I think that for today’s message, a history lesson might prove helpful. I will use your grandfather’s Bridge to show you.”
Abby’s temperature rose. Muns had broken into her grandfather’s house and stolen that Bridge.
The image cut away from Muns. Abby saw the faded image of two men sitting across from each other at a restaurant with a chessboard between them. At least it was a faded image. Muns could not mess with this past without storing up for another energy burst or gaining two more keys.
The men wore old-fashioned suits and one had a beard that only grew underneath his jaw. She was glad that fashion hadn’t returned. “The first real international chess tournament,” Muns narrated, “was in London in 1851, and the man with the beard won. He was a German named Adolf Anderssen.” Abby watched as the two men exchanged moves, stroking their chins and evidently thinking very intensely about each move. “But this game is very famous. It was called ‘The Immortal Game,’ and it happened at a local restaurant between rounds of an official tournament.”
Why did she care about the history of chess? Was Muns trying to bore her into submission?
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