Page 8 of Immortal Game

On Halloween, hours before she was meant to leave for the Otherworld, Shea paced restlessly through her living room. Dust swirled through the panels of red-gold sunlight stretching across the floorboards.

“Queen a2.” Yangmei’s tinny voice came through Shea’s earbuds.

Even though it had to be five in the morning in China, her coach—who also happened to be one of the greatest woman grandmasters of all time—had insisted on one last game of blindfold chess, a format in which neither of them had a board in front of them.

Queen a2.What was the point of that move? Shea let hereyes fall closed, transforming the position in her mind. At first, there didn’t seem to be any clear response. But then, she found it: “Knight b5.”

It was a relatively straightforward move but still an annoying threat to deal with, considering it came with a hidden tactical threat. No doubt, Yangmei would see it, but at least it would buy Shea some time.

“Rook c8.”

Shea paused, stunned. Yangmeihadn’tseen her threat, and now, Shea would be up a pawn. “Bishop takes d6.”

Yangmei laughed, half pleased and half startled. “Well done. I didn’t think that was possible.”

When she was a child, maybe it would have been a thrill to best a player like Yangmei. Now, neither praise nor victory brought her any real satisfaction. There was only relief that came from avoiding defeat—and the heavy exhaustion that followed. “You would’ve seen it over the board. Or at a more reasonable hour.”

“Most likely.” She hesitated. “You’re feeling ready?”

“I am.”

“You remember that line we prepared against the Rossolimo, right? Tsoi has been playing it a lot recently.”

“I remember.” How could she not? They’d gone over the competitor list—their strengths, weaknesses, and play styles—hundreds of times. The preparation for Midir’s tournament had been among the most grueling things she’d ever undertaken. Each day, she spent eight hours poring over bound dossiers and studying chess with Yangmei and her other seconds. After that came a two-to-three-hour workout to ensure she had thephysical stamina and discipline to play long classical games. “Are you doubting me?”

“Of course not.” Again, she hesitated. “But I think we should try one last exercise.”

“All right,” Shea said warily.

“Let’s finish this game. But we’ll swap colors first.”

When Shea mentally reversed the board, all she could focus on was the horrible wrongness of what had been Yangmei’s position: the material deficit, the inharmonious arrangement of the pieces, the extinguished initiative… The ugliness of it smarted as viscerally as a wound. It smothered all the fight left within her.

“Why?” Shea asked, unable to keep the panicked edge out of her voice. “The game is already over.”

“It isn’t,” Yangmei replied. “If you fight, you can create chances for yourself.”

Years ago, Shea might’ve scrapped it out until the bitter end. Now, the thought of defending something so doomed… “I’m tired. Aren’t you?”

“See, this is what I’m worried about, Shea. Your preparation is not the issue. It’s your mental game.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You refuse to play worse positions,” Yangmei said, a little accusatorily. “Granted, you rarely end up in a worse position. But you need to practice even the things you don’t enjoy.”

“So, what? This whole game was some kind of trap? You don’t think I should go?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, I know. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Guilt ate ather. Shea couldn’t be angry with Yangmei. She’d never told her what happened on the night Aideen disappeared. It wasn’t that Shea refused to play worse positions. It was that shecouldn’t.

“You’re right,” Yangmei said after a moment. “You leave so soon. You should get some rest.”

“You, too. I’ll be fine.” Shea was as ready as she’d ever be. Anyway, it wasn’t like she could wait around for another hundred years. “I really am just tired.”

“Okay.” Silence crackled over the line. “Everyone gets bad positions, you know. Everyone loses sometimes.Everyone.It’s part of the game, and it’s nothing to beat yourself up over.”

It was a nice sentiment. But losing was for other players, not for Shea. “Thanks, Yangmei.”