Epilogue
Lambert - Two Years Later
This is no different from a UAA game. No different from a UAA game. I can do this. My girl is here. No different from a UAA game. Is she wearing my jacket?—Focus, Lambert!
The stadium above is loud. The noise of it echoes down into the briefing room where Coach has been drilling strategy into us for the last hour.
Not for the first time, I wonder if I’m up for this. The jump from university league to the national team has been insane. My new teammates are awesome, and the last thing I want is to let them down.
No backing out now, I guess.
A roar from above shakes the ceiling.
Deliberately switching my breathing back into the familiar pattern Leo taught me, I tune everything out as my body goes through the motions.
The trip up from the pits and onto the immaculate court is a blur.
Our team huddle is over too fast. On the other side of the net, the Brazilian players are already lining up, and I take my spot at the back.
Mind on the game.
Even my best intentions can’t stop my eyes from wandering to the court-side seats. It’s been three hours since I last saw my wife, and I’m starving for just a glimpse.
Her cheeks are painted in red, white, and blue, and she’s beaming as she proudly wears my jacket. Leo gives me a solid nod from her right-hand side.
My brother and our Librarian, exactly where they should be.
All of the noise? Gone. All the doubt? Silenced.
I got this.
I bounce on my toes, shooting her a wink.
Then I notice the man on her other side and almost fall flat on my face.
George Reid hasn’t attended a magiball game in person since my mother died. Even now, he has no grimoire at his side, and his clothes are about as inept as you can get. The only thing that marks my dad as able to do magic at all are the runeforms across his skin.
He said he couldn’t bear to be around arcanists after she passed. Every spell reminded him of her. Every time he ran into a member of the Winthrop family, he couldn’t help thinking about how the family shunned her and left him to raise me alone.
He’s here now, wearing my team colours, carrying a massive bucket of popcorn that he offers to Kyrith with a grin.
How…?
I glance back at Leo, who’s smirking. I’d bet everything I own that he’s the one who talked my dad into being here. Magic, he’s such an overbearing big brother.
I love him for it.
Fuck. I’m not crying before the biggest game of my life so far. This is being televised live across the world.
The whistle blows, shrill and demanding, and it’s on.
Brazil aren’t pushovers. Their timekeeper is particularly savage. It’s no surprise when she starts dropping the alpha at every opportunity. Coach warned us this would happen. There’s nothing we can do except try to keep up as the balls start racing around at impossible speeds.
No time for thoughts. Just muscle memory.
A splash of acid catches my ankle, eating down to the bone.
Shrug it off.
Lightning arcs towards my face.
Turn to stone.
The other team’s reapers are in one spot for a breath too long?
I chuck one of my alchemical bombs in their direction.
One down.
Our scorer takes a piece of shrapnel to the side of the head, but I don’t even notice the substitutes racing onto the court.
An opening lines up.
Like fate is throwing me a bone, the gamma teleports right beside my knee. With a single kick, it soars over the net.
The opposing team’s reaper dives for it. Misses by millimetres.
The metal ball hits the ground, and a shrill whistle pierces the air.
All of the other balls drop to the court, lifeless.
Above me, the scoreboard shouts our victory to the world. My first international league game, over in under ten minutes.
None of it matters. I’m already running for Kyrith. Stars, my mouth actually hurts from how hard I’m smiling as I lift her into the air and kiss the living daylights out of her.
“You won!” Kyrith gasps against my lips.
“Told you he would,” Leo says.
Dad claps me on the back. “Proud of you, Bertie.”
Best. Day. Ever.