Brings person to toyroom

'If you will excuse me, sir, your victory has unsettled me somewhat. I shall return in a moment.‘

As he turned away towards the lavatories he heard the stranger speak, his rich, educated tones resonating throughout the club.

'Please, Sir Henry, it is but a game. I have enjoyed the sport, but I have no intention of ruining you. Or damaging your reputation as a king of the tables. Let us discuss my...rewards.‘

Sir Henry froze on the spot. Such behaviour was unspeakably rude, especially at the club. His honour was further impugned by the stranger‘s offer to erase the debt -or whatever he intended.

Angrily, Sir Henry turned on his heel and prepared to face his tormentor. For a split second he shut his eyes: he felt giddy but that cleared and he opened his eyes again.

He was no longer in the club.

There were no leather chairs. No quiet murmured speech and the occasional rustling of The Times. No subtle clink of ice in glasses and a boy pouring Scotch or a good brandy.

Instead, Sir Henry was standing... somewhere else entirely.

His giddiness had cleared due to the slight breeze that kissed the back of his neck, and as far as he could see the ground was a series of bizarre splashes of colour that seemed random and indistinct. They stretched away in every direction and the furthest ones he could see appeared to be squares.

It was like a grotesque, child‘s version of the countryside, he realised. Like tiny fields, all of differing colours rather than just grass, mustard or turned earth. The corners of each one were marked by vast oak trees that looked dark and aged, vast branches spreading sideways.

***

Divided Loyalties, Chapter 2