Page 38 of Sunsplitter

Fi warred against the haze, biting her tongue until she tasted blood. No words came out.

Avroz tilted his head. “Stubborn?”

She’d been called that before. Never to her opponent’s advantage.

A stronger current sliced into her. Fi gasped, her sight blackening as energy snapped her teeth.

It tasted like ozone.

Fi knew this current. It had been foreign once, cold burning through arteries, heat freezing flesh. Then, she’d practiced with capsules of Antal’s energy. She tasted a hint of him now, that static prickling her skin. Enough to focus.

Enough to seize. She grasped at the foreign energy running through her body, grabbed it andShapedit. Crimson sparked off her fingertips, enough to gain control of her muscles.

Voidwalk, if you need to escape, rang taunting in her head. Fi couldn’t, as long as Avroz touched her, not to mention the precious seconds it would take to cut a Curtain off the Plane.

She reached for her sword instead.

A second hand hit her skull. Two palms caged her temples, twice the current, locking her joints once more. Fi’s hand stalled halfway to her weapon.

Avroz studied her with a mild frown.

“Impressive.” His grip tightened, claws digging into Fi’s scalp. Blood trickled down her cheek. “How long?Since Verne?”

Her hand spasmed, latching onto his sleeve.

Again, words dangled on her lips.I love him. I’d do anything for him.

“You… can…fuck off,” she spat.

“My son seems quite fond of you,” Avroz said. “Has he told you what happened to his last human pet?”

Fi bared her teeth, blood on her gums from biting her tongue.

“Ah. Of course he has. Brave, aren’t you?” He leaned in until their faces nearly touched. Fangs bared, close enough to bury into her throat. “So let’s be honest with each other, vavraesa. Because I only care about one thing: will you be more useful to me than the last one?”

A knock sounded at the door.

The current flickered with Avroz’s attention, space enough for Fi to gasp, to unclench her hand from his shirt.

The door opened without invitation. The vavriter steward, Geslam, leaned in.

“Apologies,” he said, head bowed.

A growl rumbled Avroz’s chest. “Yes, Geslam?”

“A telegram from the Dusk Council. Marked as urgent.”

Avroz’s grip tightened on Fi’s skull. One long stretch of consideration.

He released her, claws and current severing swift enough to leave her reeling. Fi caught herself against the desk. She bent double as her muscles shook, errant curls slipping free against her cheeks.

“What is it?” Avroz demanded.

“Another emergency meeting.”

“When?”

“Now.”