Page 79 of Immortal Game

She didn’t need to specify who she meant.Midir.

Aideen lifted her eyes to Shea, and Aideen’s expression nearly gutted her. It was one of a girl completely beyond her depth. “Yes.”

Shea swallowed down her dread. “He’s been back here.”

Aideen only nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have—”

“I don’t know, Shea.” Aideen’s shoulders hunched. “There’s nothing to tell. Nothing you’d have been interested in. He brings gifts. He writes poetry. He sings to me. He’ll ask me to leave with him soon enough. I know it. And when he does…”

When, notif. It was sensible to assume, of course. The fae were not known for giving up what they believed was theirs. He’d promised that he would return to woo her again, after all. Obviously, he’d been busy.

Shea was quiet for a time. All their lives, Aideen had protected Shea. It was almost time she returned the favor. Shea was thirteen now. Old enough to be an adult, practically. Old enough to have put some thought into things. She had money now—enough that they’d be able to run away together and start a new life. Better yet, she had knowledge of the High King of the Irish Otherworld and the kinds of games he liked to play. She’d been preparing for this for a long time.

Shea laid her hand on Aideen’s forearm. “It’ll be okay, Aideen. I promise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Shea met Daniil the next day, jet-lagged and sour, at the airport’s car rental. As the woman behind the counter—whose name tag readGRACE—handed over the keys, Shea decided not to question how Daniil had managed to circumvent the twenty-one-year-old age requirement. She supposed that when you had enough money, laws were more like suggestions.

“Be careful,” Grace said. “That’s wet rain out there. Are you going far?”

“To Bri Leith,” Shea replied.

A shadow passed over Grace’s expression. “And why would you be going there?”

Neither she nor Daniil replied immediately.

“It’s a very dangerous place to go,” Grace continued. “I know it’s not spoken of much anymore, but any who disturb the faerie forts will suffer a lifetime of bad luck—that is, if you don’t drop dead within a week.”

Shea had heard the stories herself. A man who chopped down a faerie tree and died of sepsis. An entire economic crash blamed on building a road through a network of faerie hills.Even though it had been more than a century since the fae walked among mortals, people didn’t forget.

Daniil scoffed. “I don’t believe in luck.”

“We’re not going to disturb them,” Shea interjected. She scrambled for some lie but came up short.

“We’re chess players,” Daniil supplied, shooting Shea an impatient look. “It’s like a pilgrimage for us. Bri Leith is where they play that tournament.”

“I know that much.” Grace looked suspicious still, but she procured a map from a drawer. For once, Shea was grateful that the average person could not name a single professional chess player. Grace might’ve felt differently if she’d known they’d already been kicked out of the Otherworld. She marked a few spots on the map: their current location and the fabled site of Bri Leith.

“Best to leave them be,” she said, “as they’ve let us be.”

“We will,” said Shea. “Thanks.”

With one last warning look, Grace relinquished the map.

They went out to the car and loaded their things into the trunk. Daniil slid into the driver’s seat with a bilious aura, a ball cap pulled low over his brow, and a pair of sunglasses screening him from the world. He deposited his black iced coffee in the cupholder. She wanted to tell him he looked ridiculous, because he really did. It was miserable and gray outside, for one thing. For the other, she was pretty sure that cap was cashmere. But she kind of owed him, so she kept it to herself.

“So,” he said as he started the engine. “Are you going to tell me why you had me buy two shovels? It’s among the stupider ways I’ve spent my money.”

“Stupider than digging up really old photos of some girl who beat you in a chess game?”

“No,” he replied, without a hint of irony. “That was brilliant.”

Shea kicked up one foot onto the dashboard and fiddled with the heat settings. “What do you know about elfmounds?”

“Nothing,” he replied in a tone that implied he found it a distasteful question to be asked.