Page 181 of Sunsplitter
“Avroz, let her go.”
Yme stood upon the garden path.
Fi blinked once against pain-watered eyes. She blinked a second time in disbelief, because that wasYmestanding on the path in her slinky party dress, hair a crown of dark braids and antlers festooned in silver.
Her glare could have sliced open a jugular.
Avroz tilted to look at his wife. His hand stayed clamped over Fi’s mouth. “Yme, this doesn’t concern you—”
“Let her go.”
She had Antal’s soft cheeks, his crimson eyes, but Fi had never heard Yme snarl like this. Neither had she fully registered: Yme’s antlers, only two points shorter than Avroz. The two ancient beasts squared off with teeth bared, startlingly equal footing when Yme didn’t cower. Avroz weathered her glare for exactly eleven of Fi’s thudding heartbeats.
Fi gasped when he released her.
“You thorn-fingered son of a—”
She clamped her mouth shut when another hand grabbed her wrist. Yme pulled Fi behind her, a barrier of jasmine-smelling hair and lashing tail between her and Avroz. Fi had no Void-damned clue what was happening.
An effective shield, though. Yme retreated. Her vicelike grip on Fi’s wrist was tight enough to sever circulation, the hold of a parent leading a delinquent child. Rather than Fi’s usual spitting, she let herself be dragged away, never taking her eyes off the predator behind her.
Avroz didn’t follow. He didn’t move. He didn’tblinkas he watched her go. The low twitch of his tail was like a cat gauging a wounded mouse.
Yme led them into the house. Her grip lightened once they had a wall between them and Avroz, lighter still as she pulled Fi into the empty kitchen and shut the door.
Fi yanked her hand free and backed to the far side of the room, ready with her sword hilt. This daeyari wasn’t a friend. At times, she’d barely been an ally.
“Foolish thing,” Yme hissed. “What were you thinking?”
Fi stood wary, her back to a cupboard. “What do you want?”
“You shouldn’t have been out there. Shouldn’t have been listening.” Yme paced the kitchen, a bundle of exasperation and gnashing teeth. “You should know what he’d do to you.”
“Yet you stepped in to help.” Fi hardened. “Why?”
“Why?”
Fi grabbed her sword when Yme stepped toward her.
She froze when two soft hands gripped hers, a snare of too-familiar crimson eyes.
“I’ve never seen Antal smile the way he does with you,” Yme whispered.
This was not the response Fi had anticipated.
“You aren’t what I envisioned for my son,” Yme said, notunkindly. “You aren’t what I assumed you’d be, when we first met. But I want him to be happy. And you make him happy. I see that, even if I don’t fully understand it.”
This was a truly baffling combination of insults and… acceptance? Yme sounded earnest, squeezing Fi’s hand with finger pads, not claws.
“Which is why,” Yme said, “whatever you heard, forget it. Pretend it never happened. Go back to Antal. Keep him smiling.”
The kitchen was quiet when Yme finished, just the agitated swish of her tail.
Just the hiss of Fi’s whisper.
“Yme, what did Avroz do?”
The daeyari’s tail lashed. “It’s better that you don’t know. It’s better that Antaldoesn’t know.” Yme held Fi’s hands, pleading with soft words and bright eyes.
