Page 102 of Immortal Game

He adjusted his glasses so they sat higher on the bridge of his nose. “That much goes without saying. In any case, thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“You’re welcome.” They sat in companionate silence for a moment. “I’ll see you at the World Cup?”

“Yeah.” He sounded grateful for the topic change. “I think so.”

“Cool. I’m looking forward to it.”

He scoffed. “Strange, to anticipate a loss.”

She shoved him. “Asshole.”

In the distance, a pale light bloomed from the darkness, then another. They hovered like will-o’-the-wisps over the fields and moved toward them with surprising speed. Both Shea and Daniil fell silent with anticipation, and soon, she could make out the four-count beat of galloping horses. Two of them came into view: giant white stallions, kicking up clouds of dust in their wake. They descended on the gates in a flash of gilded armor, snorting in their exertion. Glass lanterns hung from their saddles, emitting a faint, magical glow.

A faerie rider in red livery declared, “We have returned on the Lord of Mag Mar’s and Queen Aideen’s orders with the girl.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he looked down at Shea and Daniil uncertainly. Clearly, he could not tell if they were household servants, glamoured mortals, or simply there by sheer happenstance. All the same, his companion helped down a figure from the horse they’d shared.

Even Shea knew who it was, traced in that faint, unearthlylamplight: Irina, dressed in a pale lace gown. The resemblance between her and Daniil was striking, from the warm undertones of their skin to the full, almost pouting lips. She stepped forward like the principal dancer she was, all grace and untouchable poise. When Irina saw her brother, the divine ballerina became a mortal girl in an instant. Her shoulders slumped with sheer relief, and tears sprang to her eyes.

Shea did not think she’d ever see such joy on Daniil’s face again. “Irochka.”

When they embraced, clinging to one another like children, his shoulders shook with silent tears. Shea’s heart ached at the sight of them.

“I’ll let Aideen know,” she said quietly.

Neither of them paid her any mind.

Shea slipped back through the gate. She could still hear the sounds of the celebration emanating from the keep. She found herself oddly paralyzed. She couldn’t stay out here, intruding on Daniil’s reunion. She couldn’t go back to the party, where she knew no one. And she couldn’t return to her room, not when she felt soalive. After everything that had happened today, she both wanted to sleep for a hundred years and run a hundred miles. The world was raw and bright and somehow new—or at least,shewas new. After today, nothing would be the same again.

Shea walked aimlessly through the grounds. Here and there, as she had for weeks, she spotted the flicker of butterfly wings. Of course, now of all times, she’d be surrounded by things that reminded her of Ciara.

The sound of footsteps bounced off the walls of the abandoned courtyard. Shea turned.

Ciara stood there, with Beann at her side, surrounded by white butterflies as they made their way back to her. One of them alighted on Ciara’s extended fingertips. Its wings seemed to drink in the light of the moon and emit their own soft glow. It cast marbled patterns across Ciara’s face.

“At last,” Ciara said. “I’ve found you. I wanted to congratulate you.”

The rush of relief and plain, giddy joy was too much for Shea to bear. “Thank you.”

Ciara jumped, lithe as a cat, toward a stretch of the half-crumbled wall. For a moment, her cloak blotted out the moonlight, and her hair sparkled beneath its fine silver rays. She settled onto the ruin, wearing an uncharacteristically pensive expression. There was no sound but the sigh of the wind over the heath, the pull of the lake against the shore, the soft flutter of Ciara’s cloak, unfurling behind her to reveal its white moth-wing lining.

“They’ll expect me back tomorrow,” Shea said hesitantly.

“Tír nAill will be empty without you.” She spoke with such profound, forlorn sadness. It gave Shea pause. Did she not know yet what Aideen had promised to do?

“I wish I could wait here with you.”

Ciara rested her chin on her forearm. “I imagine you would be waiting quite a long time.”

“Maybe a few weeks,” Shea offered.

Ciara eyed her suspiciously. “You expect our worlds to open their borders so quickly? Unless there is some catastrophic global event I am unaware of…”

“Aideen said she’d negotiate some kind of clearance foryou. As long as there’s a country willing to sponsor you, there shouldn’t be any problem—”

“You’re lying.” Ciara’s dark eyes glittered with unshed tears. There was such hope and heartbreak written across her features. “Do not jest like that.”

“I’m not lying.”