Page 60 of Immortal Game

He recoiled. “For what?”

“Saving my life.”

He scoffed. “Don’t thank me for that. Like I said, it’s just principle.”

And what principle is that?she wanted to ask. But never would he admit to anything resembling goodwill toward humanity. She tucked away the knowledge that maybe he wasn’t so bad and vowed—for both their sakes—to never look at it again.

The quiet settled heavily over them again, filled only by the distant beat of the festival drums. Between them, understanding had bloomed. And worse, more guilt she didn’t need. Already, she felt heartsick. Why try to understand Daniil? Why offer Ciara things she couldn’t promise? Why sympathize with Lily?

Stupid, stupid,stupid.

They were all competing with one another, and there was no way around it. No overcoming what would happen when they denied one another their dreams. She understood now that this tournament was the same kind of game her mother had liked to play when they were children. Cruel, inescapable, and unwinnable.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Daniil’s theory had presented Shea with an impossible puzzle. She spent the night thinking, rearranging the pieces in her mind. But there was no sense fighting faerie hocus-pocus—as Daniil had so generously called it—with logic. He was right. They needed someone with expertise. They needed Ciara.

At this point, Shea didn’t know if dread outweighed her anticipation. They had a lot to discuss after they won their games.

In the tournament hall, her opponent waited for her at the board. Her name was Eri, and Shea had never seen her on the other side of the Veil before. She looked to be about ten, with hair as fine as corn silk and the same violet-black color as a calla lily. Her eyes were a shade of brown just shy of red. She sat on a stack of books, and when they shook hands, she dug her nails into Shea’s wrist.

Eri’s eyes twinkled with malice. In a sickly-sweet singsong, she said, “Good luck.”

Shea hated playing against children. They found tactics effortlessly, played their moves instantaneously, and were oftensome of the best players while managing to be the most annoying creatures on the planet. It seemed faerie children were no different.

She considered flagging down the arbiter. But what would the point be in giving Eri the satisfaction? It didn’t matter. Whatever she said, whatever she did, Shea could handle it. It didn’t matter that she was playing with the black pieces. If this child was the only thing standing between her and the semifinal round, she would crush her remorselessly.

All she had to do was hold her nerve.

There were four boards today, set up in a neat square in the center of the room. The organizers had allowed more spectators onto the floor, but they remained a respectful distance away behind a cordon of flowering vines. Photographers drifted among them, snapping more shots of the guests than the players. Shea sat on the black side of the board, her hands folded at her lips, her eyes closed. She stirred only when the murmuring of the crowd went silent and Midir’s clear voice announced the beginning of the game.

Eri opened with the Scotch. The first few moves of the game unfolded predictably enough, but it became immediately clear that Eri had devised a cunning strategy: She would ensure every passing second took a sledgehammer to Shea’s focus. She kicked her legs absently, striking Shea’s shin every so often. She shifted in her seat, sighed, stacked the captured pieces in precarious towers that collapsed in the middle of Shea’s train of thought. She slurped noisily from a cup she’d brought to the board. She moved the pieces so quickly, they sat misaligned in their squares. And if Shea took longer than a few minutes on a move, she drummed her fingers with a flippant sort ofimpatience that implied Shea was missing something painfully obvious. The distraction was maddening. But Shea remembered then what Ciara had told her.

I like knowing what someone wants and denying them.

And so, she played the most mind-numbing, rote lines she could think of. She took her time with each move and neutralized every tactical complication. She got up periodically to stretch and examine the other players’ boards. Shea took a perverse satisfaction in watching Eri’s frustration and boredom grow. It was only a matter of time before Shea provoked her into forcing the issue, before—

Yes, there it was: a mistake.

Eri had tried for a breakthrough with her dark-squared bishop, but it was too reckless, too ill considered. Shea saw it instantly. Eri must have, too, because she thrust out her hand. Panic lit her eyes. “Draw.”

The oldest trick in the book, to offer a draw in a losing position. But Shea was not playing for a draw. She was playing to win. When she shook her head, Eri’s face purpled.

Thwarted, Eri unleashed all of her aggression. In ten moves, her position crumbled completely. Still, she did not resign, which Shea almost respected. Shea drove Eri’s king into the corner and checkmated her with a mating net that was actually quite pretty. As soon as it was done, the wooden cuff fell from Eri’s wrist with athudthat seemed to echo throughout the hall.

Eri wilted. Her lower lip quivered.

Shea couldn’t help grinning. She’d made it to the final four. Exhilaration coursed through her. Everything she’d dreamt of was within reach now. And once they uncovered how Midir’s little magic trick worked, she would be able to face him again.Not as a scared child, but as an equal—no, asuperior. And once she won…

She didn’t know anymore. Maybe she wouldn’t retire. Maybe shewouldplay for the World Championship. Maybe she would finally sit across from Ciara and experience the joy of playing—

The sound of Eri’s voice sliced clean through her daydreaming. “No. No, no, no, no!”

In the past twenty seconds, Eri had worked herself into a frothing rage. Her eyes brightened into a bloody shade of scarlet. Tears streamed down her face, which she made no effort to wipe away or conceal. She stood up and swiped all the pieces from the board.

“How dare you?” Eri shrieked. “You’ve ruined me! You’ve ruined everything!”

Eri dropped to her knees, rending her hair and gnashing her teeth. Shea took a pointed step backward. In all the tournaments she’d attended over the years, Shea had never witnessed dramatics quite like this. Not even from Ciara. This was a tantrum of cataclysmic proportions. Shea did not want to imagine what kind of fines FIDE would slap Eri with had this happened in the mortal realm.