Alison took his hand. “Stop. I don’t need anything special. Every day with you is special enough on its own. Of course I’ll marry you, Keir Ainsley. I love you.”
“I love you too, Alison.”
He kissed her until they both laughed from all the silly nerves of it all.
“Look,” he said, pointing out the window when they parted.
The first snow had begun to fall.
Epilogue, Part Two
“Look, it’s really very simple,” said Ana. She sat with Ceri and Leo in the stands of the Winwold College flagball stadium in Norgate.
In front of them, wrapped in a blanket in the Winwold College colors of crimson and black, Rinka was having a very similar conversation with Idris, who could not have looked more bored if he tried.
“When they blow the whistle, the flag runners will run for the flag in the middle of the field. And the ball kickers will try to move the ball to the goal. But they can’t score unless the flag runners are either holding the flag or have planted the flag in one of those posts on their side of the field. If they score without the flag in their possession, it’s a point for the other team. The flag runners have to protect the flag or try to steal it, but they can’t touch the other runners or it’s a penalty. They can also use the flag to try to get the ball in the goal themselves, but no one can touch the ball with their hands. If a flag stays in a post for five minutes, they have to reset, and everyone runs to the middle of the field. If you don’t get there in ten seconds, that’s a point for the other side too.”
“And you think that’s simple?” asked Ceri.
“Just watch,” said Ana. “You’ll get the hang of it. Here they come. Go number four! Woo!”
“Do you get this?” Ceri asked Leo. “Please tell me you don’t get this.”
“There were many games in my home—there were enough of us to make several teams—but not this one, no. It’s very popular in Gallia too, though. I think there it’s more of an excuse to drink.”
He handed her the vacuum flask of tea whiskey. She was glad he’d brought that instead of the tea coffee. He’d finally made it for her the morning after they returned, and she had been…unimpressed.
“An acquired taste, perhaps,” he admitted.
Ceri watched as someone in Winwold colors kicked the ball into the goal. She cheered.
“No, no,” said Ana, quieting her. “They didn’t have the flag. YOU MORON! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A FLAG LOOKS LIKE?”
She wasn’t the only one yelling, but most of the others were saying things that were considerably ruder.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” said Ceri.
“You can’t play at this level and make mistakes like that,” said Ana. “How humiliating. AMATEUR!”
Even apart from that mistake, Winwold was thoroughly outmatched. The School of Numbers was up 5-0 at the half, and the Winwold crowd was thoroughly defeated.
“We could always help things along,” said Idris, creating a magical breeze with his fingers.
“That’s cheating!” said Rinka. “Absolutely not. They’ve got to learn from a loss like this if they ever hope to beat King’s College.”
It seemed pretty unlikely to Ceri that they would, given today’s showing.
But then, a miracle happened.
“That’s it. That’s better,” said Ana. Harry had the flag now, and he was running for the goal with the ball kicker kicking the ball just behind him. They dodged a mean tackle from a Schoolof Numbers defender, the ball kicker kicked, Harry deflected with the flag, and then: “GOAAAAAAAAAL!”
The crowd erupted. Even Ceri was on her feet screaming.
And then came the heartbreak. The referee was holding up a handkerchief, which Ceri felt was rather odd.
“NO!” screamed Ana. “There’s NO WAY that was offsides!”
“Offsides?” asked Ceri. Ceri took it that the handkerchief was bad news.
