Page 158 of Sunsplitter

The second aedari, then? Had he gone out alone to search for the trail, not even one full night to savor their first victory? Fi hadn’t realized Avroz was so desperate behind that stone facade. So eager to bring good news to the Dusk Council.

“Any luck?” she asked. Because of course she was curious.

“None.” He scowled at her sword. “Put that away. We’re both getting what we want now, aren’t we?”

He leaned against the stone balustrade encircling the patio, tail arced against the rail. That firm set to his jaw was too familiar. That head tilt, too much like Antal.

Fi extinguished her sword. That made her look more confident, keeping her chin up as she returned the hilt to her pocket.

At a delay, she registered that it was not, in fact,hershirt that she’d grabbed off the floor in her haste. The slow drag of Avroz’s gaze affirmed he’d arrived at the same conclusion. Fi clutched her fingers into the vesper fabric sleeves, drawing strength from Antal’s ozone scent.

“Both getting what we want?” She laughed. “And here I thought I was just a pawn.”

Everything about this daeyari was too still. Too keen. His Void and burgundy eyes barely scraped over her, yet Fi had to fight a shudder.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “you’re more than I expected.”

She lifted a brow.

“Antal has always been susceptible to his frivolities.” Avroz shrugged. “Maybe you do love him. Maybe you’re just using him for your own benefit—in which case, admirably played.”

Fi clenched her fists until her knuckles ached. A newcalculation: all the reasons she shouldn’t skin this daeyari alive. Frightfully short. Verging on zero.

“My son seems quite taken with you,” Avroz went on. “A difference in taste. But I admit, I’m beginning to see why. To Voidwalk? To heal yourself? To kill an aedari? Impressive feats. For a vavraesa.”

That was, by far, the kindest thing Avroz had ever said to her. Fi let the praise trickle down her neck. It seeped into her, cold as mountain ice. An aftertaste like bitter nettle. She weighed her response carefully, searching for the right words. The right eloquence. The right counter in this guarded game they were playing.

“Fuck you,” Fi replied.

It felt good to say. She didn’t say it enough, really, given the sheer quantity of fuck-yous that Avroz deserved. The daeyari stood mildly upon his patio, in his home, his Plane, untouched by her petty mortal vitriol—except the subtlest twitch of his tail.

“I offer you peace,” he said, “and that’s all you have to say?”

Fi scoffed. “You aren’t offering peace. I walked through your door, and you looked at me like a cut of meat. You tried to use me like a tool. And only whenthatdidn’t work, you finally feel like giving a compliment?” She stepped closer. Flashed her teeth. “Bullshit. I didn’t become worthy of something by killing an aedari. I was always worth more. All the humans you’vemurdered and eatenwere worth more.”

She pressed the space between them until scant inches remained. Close enough to smell ice and old stone, to feel the crackle of immortal energy.

Closer than she should be.

As close as she had to be, to spar with these creatures.

Avroz had more experience at this game, a staggering nine centuries—older than some of the cities Fi had worked in, andjust as firmly rooted. He didn’t balk at her proximity. His eyesdidnarrow. Every time she played a hand like this, he hardened a little more. Honing.

He tilted closer a fraction of an inch. Matching her challenge. Fi held her ground, banishing the memory of his claws in her stomach.

“Did Antal teach you this?” he breathed, cold on her cheek.

He was unsettling at a distance. Horrifying, this close. The flawless calm. That calculated flash of fangs through his whisper.

Fi kept her tone flat. “Predators chase after things that run. Your entire species made sure to teach us that.”

Avroz huffed a laugh. In her peripheral, Fi caught the twitch of a tail, the glint of shifting claws. Intentional distractions. She never broke eye contact.

“You want to fight me so badly?” he asked. “I assumed you’d be glad to finally earn my approval.” His eyes flicked, so briefly, to her stomach. “You’ve certainly worked for it.”

Fi bared all her teeth. No fangs to match his, but twice the vitriol.

“I don’t care what you think of me. I’m here for Antal. Foryour son, who you’ve treated like just another disposable thing, having to work to earn your acceptance.”