Page 97 of Immortal Game

Aideen let out a sound that was half sob and half laughter. It filled Shea with a pure, childlike pride. Aideen had never understood a single move she’d ever made, idiotic or brilliant. It was almost sweet, after all these years, that Aideen still held that same blind faith in her. “Of course you did.”

Aideen let her go and withdrew a step. They stood in uncertain silence. The weight of six years’ absence and yesterday’s argument pressed down heavily on them. It pained Shea. She didn’t know how to fix this. Maybe she couldn’t.

Aideen blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Shea startled. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have told you to leave without even trying to speak to you. You were always so stubborn. I didn’t realize how muchworseyou’d gotten over the years.” She smiled ruefully. “It’s true I didn’t want to encourage you. But I also didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t bear facing you again. Iama monster. I ruined your life enough already, and—”

“Aideen,” Shea cut in, horrified. “You didn’t ruin my life.”

“But I did.” Her voice broke. “If I’d never been born, Momwould have had a normal life. Maybe she would’ve been a normal parent, and you would’ve had a normal childhood, instead of—”

“If you’d never been born, I probably wouldn’t have been, either.” Shea’s voice was firm. “And if by some miracle, I’d been the same person, born into better circumstances, nothing about my life would’ve been normal. I’m a professional chess player. I’m not really normal, either. As you’ve told me.”

“Oh, God.” Aideen paled. “You still remember that.”

“We got dealt a bad hand. You were the only thing that made it bearable. I wouldn’t change that for anything. Besides, I’ve been convinced all this time thatIwas the one who ruinedyourlife.”

A breeze rustled the branches overhead, sending scattered light across Aideen’s stricken face. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I lost that game to Midir. I thought I failed you.” Shea swiped at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “All this time, I’ve been trying to make up for it. I see now that I assumed too much. But I was watching you fade away in front of me. I saw how afraid you were. I thought it was because ofhim.”

She drew in a shuddering breath. She thought of Aideen, sixteen years old and confronted with the enormity of his offer. “I thought I could fix it for you. I thought if I could make him go away, then you’d be happy. You wouldn’t have to dread him coming back. You wouldn’t have to make that decision. You’ve always looked out for me. The night Midir came for you, I thought that’s what you were doing. Being brave for my sake. It sounds stupid, I know, but I just wanted to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Shea.” Aideen took Shea by the shoulders. “There isnothingto repay.”

A weight Shea hadn’t realized was there lifted from her. A sense of lightness unfurled through her like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Aideen went on. “If I’d justtoldyou back then what I planned to do, if I’d told you when you showed up here how I felt, none of this would have happened. I was too ashamed. It felt like I was abandoning you. But I couldn’t bear it anymore. I…”

Her voice broke. Shea didn’t need her to finish to understand: Aideen could never go back to Wayfolk.

“I know.” It felt like a door closing—or maybe opening. For six years, this had been her sole purpose. Shea hardly knew who she was without that drive, or what to do with all this pain that now had nowhere to go. “Just… Tell me you’re happy here. With him.”

Aideen did not answer immediately. There was a stillness to her that she’d never had in the mortal world—a stillness so complete, she might as well have been one of the willow trees surrounding them, growing into and out of the soil of the Otherworld. “I think I could be happy here if I had the chance. I hardly know what it’s like. The gates of this castle have been closed for so long. It’s just as lonely here as it was back home. Midir is very set in his ways.”

“So he is trapping you here,” she said guardedly. “He’s treated you badly.”

“Yes and no,” Aideen replied quietly. “I do love him, but some things are hard to forgive.”

Shea held her silence.

“Things could be different. Tír nAill could be different. I know it could. Less divided, less controlled. I am powerless here, but if I wasn’t, I could…” Aideen trailed off, as though catching herself speaking something forbidden aloud.

“I don’t know what I could do. All I know is that I want to know my subjects. I want to see the place where I grew up in another life. I want to swim in the sea and run on the sand. I want to dance and meet new people. I never gave up on all those childish things.” Aideen tipped her face back to the faint sunlight. It played on the planes of her lovely face and made her golden hair shine. “I want to know who I am, outside of being compared to someone else, some ideal, some role someone else has written for me. I want tolive.”

I want to know who I am. I want to live.

Let me give us both that chance, Shea thought.

Just then, Shea caught a glimpse of Midir over Aideen’s shoulder. He stood on the opposite side of a pond, framed by the flowering branches of a cherry tree. Aideen—sensing either his gaze or Shea’s drifting attention—turned to look at him. Shea saw as much as she heard Aideen’s sharp intake of breath. Her sister was frozen, like a hare at the end of a huntsman’s bow. An entire conversation seemed to pass between Midir and Aideen as they stared across the water at one another. Grief transformed his face into something soft and vulnerable. It was as though his hundreds of years had caught up to him all at once.

A short bridge, painted white and scattered with loose petals, arced over the pond. The three of them met at its center. With great reluctance, Midir offered his hand to Shea. “Congratulations are in order.”

Surprised, Shea accepted his hand. “Thank you.”

“And now,” he continued, his voice tight, “you are owed a boon.”