Page 129 of Sunsplitter

Ivan had no family to mourn him. Not much time left, when he and Antal had met. He’d spoken of making his death worthwhile. Antal had kept him company for an afternoon, letting the human talk of his life and aspirations.

Antal could never be human himself. But he could be more humane. He could treat these people with the respect they deserved, gratitude for the sustenance they provided. He laid a hand on Ivan’s shoulder, the skin still faintly warm.

Before he remembered he wasn’t alone.

Syvr and Ixli watched in silence. No derision, Antal was shocked to see. Only curiosity.

“Why did you start doing this?” Ixli asked.

Antal hesitated. The truth was dangerous, an open wound, cracked ribs bared for all to see. He’d never met another daeyari who understood. He’d never met one who even humored his explanation. But these were his friends, and…

“They all had lives before they come to us,” Antal said. “Dreams. Families. Personalities. I see their faces sometimes… the human I lost, Razik. And Fionamara. There beneath my claws, wearing the same warm flesh.” He looked up. “Do you, ever?”

It was a blade, the way they both looked at him. Still without derision.

“Some are harder than others,” Syvr agreed, their tail a thoughtful brush on the floor. “I’ve met some delightful humans in my travels. Still need to eat, but I’ve never cared for the slaughter myself, have always shared meals where I can. Your method is even less destructive.”

Ixli’s tail flicked. “I’ve never… really thought about them as more than…” Her words trailed off. She touched a gentlehand to Ivan’s arm, her brow creased in thought.

Some daeyari reveled in the thrill of tearing open prey. Others forced it out of mind, food and nothing more, no face and no name. Antal had spent so long trying to be the lesser of two evils.

But Fionamara had proposed a third path. One he could shape himself.

Here were two potential allies, looking as if there was nothing wrong with this way of doing things. Nothing wrong withhim.

“Thank you for joining me,” he said. “It’s an honor to have you here.”

The words weren’t enough. They were all he could muster. Antal rested a grateful hand on Ivan’s forehead, a silent prayer that his energy find safe travels across the Void.

Then he set to carving.

Night draped over Thomaskweld.

The remnants of Ivan’s body were carefully wrapped, sent to be burned back into the ash of the Plane, as was the human custom. Three daeyari ventured to the roof of the hospital. From the vantage point, the aurora seemed close enough to touch, swirling over dark sky and bright stars. The lights of Thomaskweld glittered below, reflecting in the curves of the river, a contrast against snow-laden pines.

Ixli vanished. She returned a few minutes later bearing two bottles, midnight-blue liquid swirling with silver.

Daeyari weren’t easy to inebriate. Anything sent to their stomachs was swiftly burned off by the energy at their cores. Daeyari alcohol was immeasurably stronger than anything mortal made, because it had to be. Even then, this was a practiced indulgence.

And Antal hadn’t indulged in decades. Only the rare package from Syvr, too afraid to touch the Twilit Plane to track down a bottle himself.

Ixli uncorked the first bottle. She tipped back and downed a full third, swift, the only way to make it work. Syvr drank next.

Antal finished the bottle. The taste was crisp as starlight, a subtle sweetness, an overwhelming heat flooding his belly. Then, the blissful swell to his head. He laid back against the frosted tile roof, arm propped behind his neck to guard his antlers. The effects would only last minutes. He savored the temporary swimming sensation, the swirl of stars across his vision, his city turned to a puddle of gold.

For that moment, he felt full. Content. In a way he hadn’t for a very long time.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

“Stop it.” Syvr sprawled beside him, tail swirling lazy arcs. “The first bottle is supposed to be fun. We’ve got a second bottle for that sentimental bullshit.”

Ixli sat upon the roof ledge. She swayed a little, claws tapping the remaining bottle, aurora tangled in her hair.

“I’m sorry, Antal. For never visiting. For never asking what happened. I did miss you.”

“Veshri’s teeth, not youtoo.” Syvr pressed a dramatic arm across their forehead. “Yes. Of course I missed you, little daeyari.” Their tail brushed Antal’s. “I hope you enjoyed my gifts. I couldn’t send much without Avroz noticing.”

“You sentgifts?” Ixli groaned. “Fuck. I’m the worst.”