Page 48 of Immortal Game

Shea hated it, but she understood it. She was eleven years old, slight and severe, with dull blond hair and eyes like glass marbles. And Aideen was… well, Aideen. Fae-touched. Beautiful. Dangerous. Half the town still believed she’d killed Ryan on purpose. It made Shea’s blood boil.

As she approached the tables, she thought,Soon, I will be the one you can’t look away from.Then, Aideen wouldn’t be gawked at like a zoo animal. She wouldn’t need to be afraid to leave the house anymore.

A middle-aged man with a kind face and a purple sweatermaterialized from the back of the room. “Thank you so much for joining us today, Shea. It’s an honor to have a chess master play with our club members. Everyone, this is International Master Shea Fury. Can you believe she’s only eleven years old? No doubt she’ll be a grandmaster soon.”

At last, the attention in the room shifted begrudgingly to Shea. She gazed back at them and their unimpressed, doubtful faces, her own expression carefully blank. Dislike roiled within her. In real life, she couldn’t punish any of them in a meaningful way for the way they made her sister feel. But in chess, she could make them hurt.

“Can I start?” she asked.

If her brusqueness bothered the club leader, it did not show. He gestured to the first board and said, “By all means. And, Aideen, is it? You can take a seat back here.”

Shea had played several simultaneous exhibitions at this point in her career. She would play ten games at once, moving down the line from board to board to play each move. She gathered her nerve and approached the first board. She played d4 instantaneously before moving on to the second.

As the games wore on, she settled into an easy rhythm. It took no more than a second to analyze each position and make her next move. There was little but the sound of her sneakers scuffing against the wooden floor, the shift of bodies in seats, soft sighs and yawns and the occasional cough. Spectators clustered against the walls, craning their necks to watch her play. Shea hardly noticed their presence. Through the window, the sun illuminated the red leaves of a Japanese maple. It seemed to her like an outward reflection of her mind: clear and languorous and bathed in a dreamy, bloody light. Noneof these players posed her any sort of challenge. It felt like she could run and run for miles.

By the end of two hours, she had defeated them all. Some sat slumped in their chairs with sweat on their brows. Others looked quietly furious. Others gazed up at her with awe shining in their eyes. All of them were broken.Good, she thought. Little by little, applause broke out across the room. Shea glowed with a quiet, cold satisfaction.

When they all filed out of the library, everyone avoided brushing shoulders with either Shea or Aideen. It was as though there was something profoundly demonic about them both, this little girl and her otherworldly sister.

“Good job,” Aideen told her in the car. Her hands rested gently on the steering wheel. She’d painted her nails a deep forest green. It relieved Shea a little to see it. Aideen hadn’t completely abandoned her vanity. “You made it look so easy.”

“It was.” Then, remembering her manners, she added, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aideen smiled indulgently. “I wouldn’t expect anything different from the future World Champ.”

Shea was pleased that Aideen remembered her dream. If she kept winning her tournaments, if she kept studying, maybe she could do it by the time she turned eighteen. A copy of Bronstein’sThe Sorcerer’s Apprenticelay beside her in the back seat. She picked it up and ran her fingers along the spine. “It helps me play better when you’re there. You’re good luck.”

“No, I’m not,” Aideen replied, with surprising vehemence. “I’m really not.”

It troubled Shea to hear her say that. It really did make a difference when Aideen watched, or when she offered Shea suchunwavering encouragement. Her sister never saw herself clearly. It was the town that made her feel like this—like she was some kind of monster. A dark, bilious cloud rose up within Shea. “I’m glad I crushed them.”

“Well, that’s not very sportsmanlike,” Aideen chided, but Shea could tell she wasn’t really mad.

Shea shrugged. “They deserved it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like the way they look at you.”

In the rearview, Aideen’s eyes looked so sad. “I appreciate it, but that’s not for you to worry about. Beating them in a game won’t make them stop.”

“Maybe it will, once I’m successful enough. Pretty soon, I’ll take care of us.”

Aideen laughed. It both heartened Shea and annoyed her. Aideen so rarely laughed anymore, but Shea didn’t like when it was at her expense. She was being serious. Heat rose in her cheeks. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry. Nothing.” Aideen bit down on her smile. “Sometimes you just talk like you’re so tough and grown up. But you’re just a kid.”

Shea glared. “You are, too.”

“I’m sixteen,” Aideen said, with deep exasperation. “I’m practically an adult.”

By the time they arrived back home, night had blanketed the neighborhood like snow. Their little house stood at the very top of the hill, with two cherry blossom trees framing the front door. Travis’s car was parked in the driveway. Shea’s stomach twisted into a knot.

Aideen killed the ignition. “Wait here.”

“No.” She’d let Aideen handle all their problems alone for long enough. She hadn’t been able to protect Aideen from Ryan. But that was three years ago. “I’m coming.”

“Shea,” Aideen said impatiently.