Page 57 of Immortal Game

Ciara’s lower lip trembled. Shea recognized that look in her eyes all too well: a longing for redemption. She bowed her head and spoke almost too quietly to hear. “I swear to you, I will come up with some solution to keep your sister safe. I only need some time to think.”

“That’s…” Shea hardly knew what to say or think. She found it hard to draw breath. “I think that’s probably outside the scope of your oath.”

“My oath?” Ciara laughed softly, almost disbelievingly. It made her cheek dimple. “Is that what you think this is?”

Shea felt nearly dizzy. “I…”

Abruptly, Ciara broke out into the fakest coughing fit Shea had ever heard. “It appears my strength is fading. We will have to finish this conversation after our games tomorrow.”

Shea was not sure if it was relief or disappointment she felt. But she had no strength left to argue, either. Besides, she needed to see what business Daniil Tsoi had with her. “All right. Tomorrow.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Outside Ciara’s room, the hallway yawned open into darkness. Somewhere beneath the scent of woodsmoke clinging to her hair, the briny stench of sorcery lingered. If Fuamnach came back, there really was no one to protect her this time. This thought occurred to her only a moment before she watched a shadow detach itself from the surrounding gloom and approach her. She nearly screamed, until she realized it was only Daniil.

“Finally,” he said impatiently. “Come with me.”

He did not wait for her reply, nor did he look back to see if she was following. He moved with the brisk, easy purpose of someone who had never once considered the possibility his orders might be disobeyed.

He led her down the corridor and up the narrow spiraling staircase. He ascended only halfway up the first flight before sprawling onto one of the shallow steps like a king on his throne. Shea pointedly stepped over him, then took her own seat at a higher vantage point. Petty, maybe. But it was undeniably satisfying to see his face upturned toward her for once.

The arrow-slit window between them let in a pale slab ofmoonlight. It cut slantwise across his face, and in its half-light, he was little more than the dark gleam of his eyes and the glint of his cracked wristwatch.

“And you’ve led me into a creepy stairwell because…?”

Offhandedly, he replied, “Every day, you astound me with the depths of your stupidity. I never took you for the type to throw an entire tournament over a girl.”

A girl.The words rang like shattering glass through her mind. For one thing, she couldn’t believe Daniil Tsoi was talking to her about her love life. Beyond that, calling Ciaraa girlfelt somehow insufficient. She was a faerie princess, for God’s sake: the sort of being they used to write poetry about and wage wars over.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she replied gruffly.

He gave her a pitying look. “Sure you don’t. You’re done booking the U-Haul?”

“Shut up.” Humiliation gave way to annoyance. “And when did I throw a game? I advanced to the third round, too.”

“You cost all three of us the advantage in the next round.”

“How is thatmyfault—”

“And you choked during the game we played,” he said, with surprising vehemence. “You crumbled to dust the moment the pressure got to be too much, exactly like I said you would. What’s going to happen if you face her? Sentimentality is foolish enough. But mooning over your competition? A fae, no less? That’s a whole new level of pathetic.”

Clearly, he had a sixth sense for finding the exact wound she least wanted to be prodded. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about?”

“No,” he conceded. “Who was that woman?”

“Ciara has a theory. It’s going to sound ridiculous.” She explained Fuamnach and her quest for vengeance to him with as little detail as possible.

By the time she finished, Daniil looked murderously incredulous. “I see.”

“I told you it was ridiculous.”

“You didn’t mention it was immaterial. I don’t care about faerie machinations and grudges—”

“You asked,” she muttered.

“I care about chess.” He steepled his fingers. “And something about this tournament reeks.”

Shea huffed out a sardonic laugh. “What tipped you off?”