Page 52 of Sunsplitter

The scent of smoke itched her nose. All that remained of the structure were charred beams, long cold. Not a large residence. Probably someone living on their own, a yearning for quiet forest that Fi knew well, and instead it had ended like this.

Something cool nudged her shoulder. She spun, weapon in hand.

Two milky eyes stared back. Aisinay perked finned ears, tail swishing a friendly greeting.

“Don’t spook me like that!” Fi hissed.

Blind, but the Void horse had a keen memory for places. And her navigation off the Plane was unmatched, unseen energy currents guiding her way. The Glacier Crest Market was a short Curtain trip from Thomaskweld. Aisinay must have smelled their trail.

She dipped her head at Fi’s admonishment, ears swiveling.This prompted the requisite pat on her snout, an apologetic coo of, “no, it’s alright, good girl.”

Aisinay appraised the arguing daeyari. Avroz in particular. Her ears flattened.

“Agreed,” Fi said. A superb judge of character, for a horse.

Next, Aisinay’s ears perked toward the burnt building. She scented the air, then snorted, hooves pawing the snow.

Just like she’d done outside Calvariz, the burnt house they’d passed. Fi’s blood chilled.

“This has happened before. You tried to tell me?”

Aisinay huffed.

“Well, excuse me, how was I supposed to know thatprance, prance, snortis code for suspicious immortal smells?”

Static snapped Fi’s tongue.

She looked up into the shiverpines. Red-orange eyes latched onto her. The lash of an agitated tail, charcoal gray.

Ixli dropped to the ground with the grace of a wildcat.

Fi had to admit, this daeyari had a superb cold-bitch glare. And superbarmor? Fi had never seen a daeyari wear armor, a silver chest piece nearly as pale as her hair, the latter cropped short and crowned in braids to frame her antlers. Silver vambraces, silver greaves molded to toned calves. All engraved with dahlias. Obnoxiously badass.

Aisinay snorted softly, ears perked with intrigue toward the new arrival.

“Stop that,” Fi whispered. “Not a friend.”

Nothing friendly in the way Ixli looked Fi over. Not in slitted coral eyes or the flash of fangs.

“What are you doing here?” Ixli said. “Don’t you have a bed to warm?”

Nope. Definitely not going to be friends. Fi didn’t balk, hand rested on her sword hilt. Ixli was armed as well, though Fisquinted to make sense of the weapons: a metal pole at her back, a bow, asinglearrow with a ribbon tied around it.

“I didn’t realize Avroz was a gossip,” Fi said sweetly. Loose-tongued piece of shit.

“You think he needed to tell me? Why else were you in Antal’s room? Why would he want you to stay?”

Fi shrugged. “I’m delightful company?”

Jealousy wasn’t her shade. If Antal said he had no feelings for Ixli, Fi believed him. Had to believe him. This creature was all lethal elegance, a disarmingly round face with sharp claws.

What Fi wouldn’t give to have claws, some days.

“Bold, for a plaything,” Ixli growled. “Stay out of the way.”

She stepped away. Fi, in a fit of responsible behavior that Antal had better commend her for later, did not draw her sword and bury it in Ixli’s back.

The argument at the edge of the clearing paused. Avroz nodded to Ixli. Antal’s eyes went wide as a startled raccoon. He had Fi’s condolences. If she’d had two centuries to accumulate angry exes, she’d probably be dead. Just one had nearly done the job.