Page 46 of Immortal Game

They played their moves with such speed the pieces nearly flew off the board. The excitement mounted, until they were practically shouting moves at each other.

“—andnowg6—”

“Yes! Go. Now.”

Their attack finally pierced black’s defenses. With no immediate response and no time to think, black’s clock ran out. Just like that, it was over. Across the board, Lochlainn nearly collapsed from the sudden evaporation of tension. Lily scowled down at the pieces with a quiet disbelief.

They’d won.

They’d won, and she felt… With her mind overheated from strain, Shea hardly even knew how to describe it. There was relief, yes. But this was something more. Something incandescent and unrestrained and fizzy, building and building in her chest until she overflowed with it.

Joy, she realized.

Shea couldn’t help it. She laughed aloud with giddy, confused delight. She couldn’t remember the last time chess had brought her joy. She hadn’t thought it possible. It made her want to weep.

The audience began to applaud, a sound that swelled and swelled until the stone reverberated with it. It lasted for nearly a full minute, until Midir held up a hand. The crowd went obediently silent.

“Now that the results are in, I’m pleased to announce that both teams will advance to round three,” he said. “Congratulations to the final eight.”

After the game, they’d been roped into a press conference. Representatives from the mortal world shoved cameras in their faces and asked them the sorts of questions Shea had come to expect. A group of bards listened in so that they might composea song of their exploits, which Shea found ridiculous. Ciara, however, was aglow with pride.

When it was over, she led Shea to what she said was her favorite spot in the castle: the butterfly garden. It bloomed in an explosion of color. There were pink milkweed and lilac asters; lavender and goldenrod; daisies and snapdragons. All of it grew wild, uncontained by beds or trellises—waist high and higher still, reaching toward the pale light of the sun. Iridescent butterflies flitted among the petals like dandelion seeds.

At the center of it all was a gazebo. Ciara slid onto a bench beneath its roof and stretched out. Her hair spilled off the side and onto the floor. She rummaged through a hidden pocket of her cloak and produced a flask.

Shea let out a startled laugh. “You had that the whole time?”

Ciara uncapped it. “I was prepared for either celebration or consolation.”

“Clever,” Shea said dryly.

Ciara’s eyes sparkled as she took a swig, then passed it to Shea. Shea poured its contents into her mouth. Wine, she thought. It was pleasantly tart and rich, like bilberries.

“We couldn’t have lost, honestly,” Shea said. “We’re just better at chess than the others.”

Ciara laughed at that, shocked and warm and genuine. Shea’s heart did something stupid at the sound of it, and it made her mouth form an even stupider smile in return.

Beautiful, she thought. Ciara was so beautiful.

And Shea was such a fool.

On some level, she’d always known she was a lesbian. It had felt almost abstract, when she never had room in her life for anything but chess. But she’d never experienced anything likethis before. It made her want to do something reckless. It made her want to find out if Ciara’s lips would taste like wine.

“Don’t let Tsoi hear you say that,” Ciara said. She didn’t deny it, either.

“I’ve been thinking,” Shea murmured. “What do you plan to do once you’re in the mortal world?”

Ciara looked surprised but pleased. Shea recognized the feeling: Finally, someone had brought up a favorite topic she rarely got to discuss. “I have a list. Do you want to see it?”

“Yeah. Let’s hear it.”

Ciara reached into her improbable cloak again. It took only a few moments of muttering and shifting for her to find what she was looking for. With a flourish, as though pulling a sword from its scabbard, she held up a scroll. Ciara unfastened the ribbon binding it shut, and the parchment unfurled like a war banner and went sprawling across the flagstones.

“You really have put some thought into this,” Shea said wryly.

Ciara ignored her. “The first item is to attend a Renaissance Faire. Use a stapler. Watch the washing machines in a self-serve laundromat. Consume the bright blue drinks from the Seven Minus Eleven store. Go to an aquarium. Put on those shoes with the wheels on them. Buy—”

Shea laughed. “Wait. Are you serious? This is your list?”