Page 162 of Sunsplitter

From the hall, a steward called them to face the council.

The walk down the corridor was brief. For Antal, it feltlike an eternity. He’d viewed countless meetings from the gallery. He’d faced dignitaries in the staging room. But the main floor? Reserved for council members and their invited guests.

He’d only been invited once—the day he’d been assigned his territory on the Winter Plane, the whole ordeal such a blur of shame, he could hardly recall any details.

Now, he stepped through the final archway, and the entire world seemed to open for him.

The circular tiers of the gallery seemed impossibly high from this vantage point, the highest stone balconies scraping dawn-lit sky, filled with easily a thousand spectators. On the main floor, light glowed beneath Antal’s feet, the inlaid map of the daeyari-controlled Planes.

Twenty members of the Daey Celva sat in a circle, perched upon their cushions. Eyes in every shade of red tracked Antal and Ixli as they walked to the center. Cunning daeyari.Olddaeyari. Hard faces that Antal knew too well, smirks he knew even better.

And Avroz. Antal’s father watched him enter this new arena, the barest grin on his lips. The long-lost son, finally returning to his proper place.

Antal knelt in the center of the circle, facing the council’s speaker. Qirza sat as imperious as ever, her silver shawls contrasting ebony skin, seven-pointed antlers decorated with dangling metal stars.

Her firm presence was calming, in a way. Antal liked dreadfully few of the council members—but Qirza had achieved her role as speaker for good reason. Commanding, but fair. A tendency to listen, rather than snarl. She lifted a hand, silencing the gallery.

Ixli approached, laying the box in front of Qirza.

Antal felt the quiet of the gallery like needles. The weight of all those immortal eyes, crushing.

But there in the third tier: Syvr’s encouraging grin. His mother beside them. Antal breathed the soft sweet of the dahlias around his neck, settled by the familiar scent.

“A gift for the Daey Celva,” Ixli recited. “We bring the head of the daeyari’s greatest foe, slain for the good of all.”

Ixli returned to Antal, kneeling beside him. A murmur of anticipation rolled through the gallery as Qirza opened the box.

Snarls of approval, when she held up the aedari’s severed head.

She gripped its hair in her claws, a sniff at the unmistakable scent, holding it high for the inspection of the council members. As she did so, she recited.

“The daeyari were gifted immortal life by the wisdom of Veshri. We embraced our calling, venturing beyond our Twilit Plane to discover the farther reaches of the Void, as was the path of the first Voidwalker. We found other Planes. Other civilizations. We found the aedari.”

Another murmur rumbled the crowd. Antal’s tail twitched, that instinct that came with any mention of the aedari’s name.

“We attempted peace with our fellow immortals,” Qirza said. “But the aedari were ruthless. They captured our kind to feed upon. They seized our Planes for themselves, gathered our mortals into their false idolatry. Daeyari fight to safeguard our home, to preserve Veshri’s legacy.” She touched a claw to her antlers, her own pair of golden bands. “Each hand in the fight is to be recognized. Who vouches for these warriors?”

Avroz stood, robes resplendent as the dawn, triumph beaming in his grin. “I stand witness for these daeyari. For Antal, my son. For Ixli, my kezri. I affirm to the Daey Celva, this aedari died by their hands.”

And one other hand. Antal clamped his teeth against a grimace.

Qirza returned the head to its box. She reached inside for something smaller, a glass vial filled with golden blood. Avroz accepted it from her with a bow.

His father played a cunning game. Ignoring Antal’s phase of rebellion, the slight gap in his résumé while he’d grieved a lost love—all of which Avroz had worked diligently to suppress—and the rest of his path had been immaculate. Antal’s years of apprenticeship under his father. His experience as a territory lord, even holding that position against Verne. Now, a slain aedari, the greatest honor a daeyari could earn, borne witness by a full assembly.

As Avroz approached, Antal kept his head high, everything his father would want. Perfect poise, for this perfect moment. Avroz uncapped the vial and dipped a claw into the gilded liquid. Crimson sparked at his finger. Energy hissed as he touched Antal’s antler, plating the aedari blood into permanent gold bands.

Finished, Avroz strayed an affectionate hand through Antal’s hair. A century ago, such pride from his father would have been priceless. It still meant more than Antal cared to admit.

He glanced at the single empty pillow in the circle of council members. Avroz wouldn’t delay his next move. Long enough to hunt the second aedari, to cinch this victory. Then, he’d nominate Antal to take the vacant seat. Antal surveyed the looming gallery, imagining his place upon the council floor. The path Avroz had always wanted for him.

Except now, Antal imagined what it would be like to sit upon the council, this life ashewould build it. He’d get what he needed, Avroz proposing to codify the new governing system in Thomaskweld. And after that, once Avroz was gone on hisPilgrimage, Antal finally free of his father’s hand? From this floor, he could nominate Syvr and Ixli as territory lords. He could fight for the good Fionamara had spoken of.

Avroz finished etching golden bands on Ixli’s antlers. They looked more fitting on her, bright as sunlight as she held her head proud, a warrior fully made.

Qirza lifted her arms, voice booming across the stone tiers.

“And so, it is done. The Daey Celva recognizes two new Sunsplitters.”