Page 71 of Immortal Game

“I meant what I told you.” Shea rested her head in her hands. “Midir is a killer. Literally. Ever since we played, I haven’t been the same. It’s like some piece of my soul died. When I’m about to lose, my brain doesn’t work right. I crumble, just like you said.”

“That’s complete nonsense. Do you really believe that?” When Shea didn’t reply, he went on. “There is nothing supernatural going on here. It’s in your head.”

“No, you don’t—”

“No. Idoget it.” He slammed his fist against the board. “Listen to me. He didn’t need to cast a spell on you, because you’re doing it for him. He got in your head. He made you feel like nothing. But you’re not. Your nerves are the only thing holding you back from being one of the greatest players of our generation. Can’t you see that?”

Shea’s breath caught. “What did you say?”

“Nice try. You only get that from me once.” He crossed his arms. “It’s true, as much as it pains me to say it. I can’t teach you much, but I can teach you this. I’ve been training to drawagainst Russian GMs since I was five years old. Ever tried to hold a rook and three versus rook and four, knowing you’ll be ridiculed if you fail to do it? Let me tell you, that will teach you resilience faster than anything.”

Resilience.Yangmei had talked about it a thousand times before. Shea had never been able to consider any other possibility than her own brokenness. More than anything, she wanted to believe Daniil. Could she? Could she really accept that the only thing standing in her way was herself? Quietly, she said, “I’m tired, Danya.”

“Me, too.” He pushed out the chair across from him with the toe of his shoe. “Sit down.”

She did. The two of them played in silence for a few minutes. The discomfort of the position mounted as he dogged her king with his rook. She moved her king into the corner. A horrible overwhelm descended on her as she stared down at it, cowering and unprotected. It looked so hopeless, abandoned by its entire army. Surely, it would be better to resign than endure this. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because one of us deserves to win.”

“All right.”

It might have been minutes or hours that they shuffled their pieces, circling, probing. It was mind-numbing and horrible. Daniil was not a particularly expressive player, but he was decisive. It was only when he made one impulsive pawn move—one that she immediately seized upon—that emotion showed on his face: annoyance. And maybe grudging respect.

He didn’t glance up as he offered a trade of pieces: a temporary measure to stave off the collapse of his crumbling position. Shea accepted it.

He leaned back in his seat, drinking in the ravaged battlefield. “I’ve been thinking. It doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game between us. If one of us wins, we can ask for the release of all people stolen from the mortal realm.”

Shea shook her head, uncertain she’d heard him correctly. “You would do that?”

At last, he glanced up at her. “Maybe. We’d have to consider the wording carefully.”

“Right,” Shea said quietly. “We would.”

He captured her knight, damaging his kingside pawn structure. There was no other option. The longer Shea stared at the position, the clearer her plan became. She could see it unfolding like a game of dominoes: one piece after another falling to her attack. She advanced. And so, it happened: the moves played out exactly as she’d envisioned them. At the end of the sequence, Daniil shook his head.

“If you manage to play like that again,” he said sourly, “you might have a shot. I should have let you self-sabotage forever.”

Shea grinned in spite of herself. “You better not lose. I’m counting on you.”

“I won’t,” he said simply. “I can’t let it end any other way.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The day of the semifinal round arrived like a ship through the haze. Last night’s rain dripped from the leaves, and all the world was agleam with water and veiled in mist. Shea hardly slept. Daniil left sometime around three in the morning, and long afterward, her mind swam with theory. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of Ciara’s games—and of her face, full of longing and full of devastation. She dozed only in fits and starts.

When she stepped out into the courtyard, she found it transformed. A crowd had gathered near the entrance of the tournament hall. As she passed, they clamored for her attention and touched the hem of her coat. Some had even struck up a chant of “Fury! Fury!” It was surreal—completely surreal. This must’ve been what it was like to play the World Championship.

The game would be shared with the mortal world in real time through couriers, who would feed commentators each move as it was played. Distantly, she wondered how many people would tune in to listen. Even here in the Otherworld, they’d set up a separate room, where a panel of mortal and faerie grandmasters would commentate the games to a live audience.

Inside the tournament hall itself, there had to be hundreds of spectators. The stands were more crowded than she’d ever seen them—more crowded than she thought possible. They all went silent when she entered. Their faces receded, swimming in and out of focus, as though she’d suddenly plunged beneath the surface of a lake.

Because Ciara was already waiting for her.

Beneath the crowd’s attention, Ciara was unmoving and unmoved. Gone was the easy warmth Shea had come to know. Here was a princess of the Otherworld: aloof, untouchable, and dangerous. It made Shea’s pulse quicken instinctually. Last night, it had felt so easy to defy her. In the cold light of day, she felt almost frightened.

When Shea met her in the center of the room, a smattering of applause broke out and rose to a dull roar in her ears. High above them, Midir stood in his opera box. Even from here, she could see a thin sliver of his metal eye gleaming like a bullet through the curtain of his golden hair.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Midir called over the noise, “it is my pleasure to introduce our first set of semifinalists: Ciara of Bri Leith and Shea Fury. Unfortunately, one of them will be eliminated today—and they will lose more than the game.”