Page 106 of Sunsplitter

Out of Void ether.

Antal had tried explaining the process, once. A puzzling mix of intention and instinct. Daeyari had to will themselves to heal, could pull ether from the Void even while standing on a Plane. Once they handed their bodies the raw material, the tissue rebuilt automatically.

Theygatheredether. A physical thing. Fi waved a hand in front of her, but felt nothing.

This was stupid.

But she had to try. Fi focused. No matter how swift or slow she swiped her hand, no matter how she wiggled her fingers, she felt nothing but emptiness.

Emptiness and cold. When Fi licked her lips, they tasted of ice and ozone, like when she ran her tongue over Antal.

A taste of daeyari energy.

Fi closed her eyes and felt forenergy.

The Void was emptiness—but a weight to it. Silence—but a thrum of something eternal in her bones. If she listened close, Fi could almost hear the whispers of dead souls around her. She could imagine eyes peering back from the depth of infinity.

She reached out.

This time, not just with her hand. Fi Shaped a current. She summoned the energy inside her, leached out of living muscle, calling to the surrounding emptiness.

And there, at her fingertips, Fi felt something. So light, she might have imagined it.

She kept her eyes closed.

Fi pulled the strands like spider silk, spooled gossamer at her fingers. They were cool. Wisping. Ephemeral threads, but she gathered what she could, touching them to her ruined stomach.

And she began to weave.

Their prey had escaped.

Antal and Ixli retraced their path to the Summer Plane, less hurried than before, failure and reconciliation hanging quiet between them.

His first aedari was less monstrous than those in his childhood stories, as real life often was. The creature was still lethal. Those wings, searing-hot and made of pure energy. Its strength, amplified by magic. The blood on his claws smelled like… how to even describe it?

Like heat. Direct sunlight. Hot stone. On Antal’s lips, a hint of sweetness lingered. Aedari were no good as food to daeyari, their dust-woven flesh providing no sustenance, but he’d heard the taste was incomparable. The prize of a successful hunt.

Void and Veshri willing, he’d find out soon enough. Today, he added a new promise: ensuring Ixli got her bands. Antal had endured a lifetime of Avroz’s control, his manipulation. He’d not suffer that fate on anyone else.

When they returned to the farmhouse, Avroz and Syvr had arrived.

The two daeyari conferred near the porch. Avroz had opted toscout their flank, entrusting the main assault to Ixli. Now, one look from Antal’s father, and Ixli hung her head, tail lowered to an ashamed sway. Unwarranted. She’d fought well, had fended off the aedari despite—

Antal tensed. Sniffed. A scent of blood mixed with the soil, aedari and daeyari.

Andhuman.

He scanned the yard. Empty. His glare fell on Avroz.

“Where’s Fionamara?” Antal demanded.

A weighted look passed between Avroz and Syvr. That moment of silence stretched a heartbeat, an eternity.

“Honestly?” his father returned. “I don’t know.”

Antal’s tail lashed. “Is shewell?”

“Probably not. Last time I saw her, my claws were in her stomach.”