Page 202 of Sunsplitter

Yme stood in the hallway, a wraith amidst shadows. Her dark hair hung loose and unbraided around her antlers. For a long moment, she and Antal stared at each another.

“You knew,” he said, low with accusation—with how deep the betrayal cut.

He didn’t need her answer. She’d always known what Avroz was doing, yet she’d never dared intervene.

Yme stared at the floor. “I wanted to protect you.”

Antal laughed, quick and biting in the silent house.

“You didn’t,” he said.

Then he slunk away into his room, to await his father’s call like a good, obedient son.

The space was emptier than before. The sweet of jasmine, nauseating.

Antal rummaged through an old desk for paper. A pen.

His hand shook as he wrote the letter. But he had to. For her sake, and his. If he chose the words carefully, he could beg his father to send it, have Syvr deliver it to her.

Fionamara.

I’m fine. Everything will be fine.

Please, stay on the Winter Plane until I return.

Please, don’t do anything reckless.

Fi was rage incarnate. A creature of unfettered spite. Too much stubborn scorn confined to one paltry mortal body.

Avroz had slapped him.

That wretched excuse for Void ether had raked his claws across his own son, had hurtherdaeyari. Using his antlers as towel holders wouldn’t be insult enough. Fi would turn them into candlesticks and let wax drip all over the carvings. She’d toss them to some dog in Thomaskweld to gnaw. She already had the image of the sitting room in her head, ready to give chase to the Twilit Plane.

She stopped herself. Angry Fi wanted to hunt Avroz down and separate him into a large number of meticulously carved pieces.

ResponsibleFi attempted to throttle that rage.

What would she accomplish, chasing them now? A fight. Avroz would be ready for her, claws sharp and poised to strike.

What was his greatest weakness? Other than being a dick, of course. A shit father. A traitor to his entire species. Obnoxious fashion sense, if she put all the cards on the table.

But his biggest weakness, right at this moment?

He still didn’t think Fi was dangerous enough to be a threat.

A weight sat in her pocket. Fi dug out the piece of antler she’d snagged before everything went to shit. It lay cool in her palm, solid black, the golden glow of energy extinguished with its caster. Outlines of dead glyphs remained, etched into the lacquered surface.

Why in the endless Void had Avroz let her keep this?

Because he didn’t realize she had it. He must have thought the evidence lost, taken by the aedari, not left behind as a trap. She’d told that crusty bastard, overconfidence would take him down. Overconfident, when he lured those aedari. Overconfident, that he could intimidate anyone into submission.

I’ve never been able to stop him, Antal had told her in agony. She could imagine him now, alone with his father, all they’d fought for on the line.

For his sake, she wouldn’t be reckless.For his sake, Fi clutched the severed antler in her fist, laying out her options, what she needed to make this work.

“Hold on a little longer, soft daeyari,” she whispered to the night.

They weren’t out of this game yet.