Page 36 of Immortal Game

He cut through the air like an arrow, his lithe form silhouetted against the pale face of the moon. He landed on the grass below with preternatural grace. His tail wagged as he stared up at her. Apparently, she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to do, because he barked.

“Keep it down,” she hissed.

She didn’t know how to appease him. Was she supposed tojump? Belatedly, she remembered the way Ciara had appeared to her last month—and how she’d so effortlessly floated down from her high perch, the wings on the lining of her cloak fanning out behind her.

This was ridiculous—the very height of lunacy. She could not believe she was putting her faith in adogof all things. Ciara would be furious if she discovered Shea like this. But she’d be furious if Shea stayed put and let her dog-cousin run free where anyone might find him.

For Daniil’s sake, she had no time left to doubt. Shea climbed onto the railing, almost buoyed by the cloak. Its hem fluttered with eager anticipation.

“Here goes nothing.”

She stepped off the edge.

For a moment, there was the horrible sensation of free fall. Then, an invisible current filled the sails of her cloak and carried her. The fabric billowed like wings as she drifted downward, shedding a faint, glittering dust like powdered moonlight. Below her, the gardens practically glowed. The limbs of the dogwood trees rustled gently in the breeze; lilies and foxgloves opened toward the sky, and the low cover of lamb’s ear and sage painted the earth in silver. In the distance, the lake sparkled white. Shea couldn’t help her laughter. It was beautiful and exhilarating—almost magical.

Her flight of fancy abruptly ended as she hit the ground. She stumbled forward, nearly rolling her ankle, and went tumbling onto the grass. Beann snuffled at her hair. Once he confirmed she was still breathing, he licked her cheek. Shea shoved him off.

“Ugh,” Shea muttered.

He gave her no time to recover. He took off at a sprint. Shea staggered to her feet and pursued him. She ran a few paces—and then began to glide. With each stride, the cloak lifted her into the air. The earth beneath her rushed by in smears of gray and purple and white. It didn’t take long to close the distance between them and Daniil. She caught a glimpse of him as he slipped through the main gate.

“Daniil!”

Outside, there was nothing but the lake and an open stretch of boglands. It was hard to see through the mist, which was lit here and there by the moon breaking through the clouds.But she could see him, a dark shape against the deep violet of the heather. With every step, the ground beneath her feet grew damp and unsteady. By now, Shea knew what that meant. At any moment, it could give way beneath them.

Shea was closing in on him now.

“Irina!” Daniil shouted.

His hand extended into the empty, dark expanse of night. On his next step forward, he sank. A bolt of panic shot through Shea. She caught him by the sleeve of his coat. He whirled around so suddenly, she stumbled backward and nearly fell into the mud.

“Get off me,” he snapped. “Don’t you see? She’s right—”

“Daniil,” Shea cut in. “There’s no one there.”

Daniil glanced back over his shoulder. Finally, he seemed to register where they were. Irritation gave way to confusion and then to horror. He yanked his foot out of the mud and ran a hand through his hair. His glasses had been knocked askew on the low bridge of his nose. He righted them, then leveled Shea with an impassive glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Really? How aboutthank you for saving my life?”

A brittle silence stretched out between them, filled only by the distant call of night birds and the sound of their heavy breathing. Daniil jerked his chin at Beann. “What is that?”

“Ciara’s cousin.”

Beann swished his tail in acknowledgment.

Daniil’s face contorted in outraged bewilderment. He blinked hard, as though this were some nightmare he could rouse himself from. When he found both Shea and Beann still there, he shook his head in disgust. Somehow, Shea couldn’t find it in herself tobe genuinely insulted. Just this once, she’d managed to protect someone.

“Do you remember how you got here?” Shea asked.

“No,” he said warily. “I was in my room. Then, I heard music.”

“Music?” She frowned. “What kind of music?”

“The ‘Esméralda Variation.’” When no realization dawned on her face, he added, as if it would help prompt her, “Cesare Pugni.”

Shea shook her head. The faintest glimmer of distress passed over his face. She half expected him to begin humming, because for some reason, it seemed of vital importance to him that she understood this. She almost felt sorry for her own not-knowing.

“It’s from a ballet, you uncultured…” He huffed out a breath. A preoccupied frown smoothed away the hostility on his face. It made him look very tired and much older than his nineteen years. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I heard a tambourine. I followed it. I didn’t even think about it.”