Page 53 of Sunsplitter

“No tracks,” Ixli reported. “No more scent trail. Whatever was here, it’s long gone.”

Kezri, Antal had called her. Not a servant, but a pack. Loyal to his father.

Avroz hummed. “You checked along the ridgeline?”

“Yes.”

“And the homes nearby?”

“Of course. Nothing.”

Fi locked eyes with Antal, attempting to mentally transmit a hundred questions. His pleading look was easier to interpret:stay out of this.

As if he hadn’t spent a whole year with her.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened,” Fi said. “Therewas another fire in Calvariz last week. How many others?”

A pack of predators stared back at her, silent, as if insulted that such a lowly creature would dare interrupt. Avroz narrowed his eyes to dark red slits.

“How many others?” Antal repeated.

For his son, Avroz offered a reply only slightly less frigid. “The Dusk Council is still investigating, but there have been several reports from other territories, across all four Season-Locked Planes. Unsurprising, given their proximity to each other.” He approached the rubble, bending to scrape a claw along the charcoal. He rubbed the ash between his fingers, smelling. “Clever. Using fire to mask the scent of their magic. A daeyari wouldn’t notice without being close.” A glance at Fi. “A vavraesa wouldn’t notice at all.”

Fuck him.

Ixli cut a look to Antal—cold, quick—then back to the rubble. Antal wouldn’t look at her at all. Fi knew soul-crushingly awkward tension when she saw it. She couldn’t decide if she hated this, or wanted to dissect it under a magnifying glass.

Avroz stood. “Ixli, one more sweep of the ridge, anywhere the aedari might have used as a vantage point. If you find nothing, we call this trail cold. It won’t have lingered. We’ll return home to see what Syvr has found.”

She nodded with the swiftness of someone eager to leave. Was gone in a snap.

“And what am I to do?” Antal said. “Stand idle while an aedari might be near?”

Avroz turned to him with the most shitty, condescending tilt to his brow. “You, Lord Daeyari? Will see to your territory. The Dusk Council will decide how to proceed. We’ll hold an open meeting tomorrow to discuss this latest evidence.”

He stepped closer. Aggressively close, their chests nearlybrushing. Classic daeyari intimidation, predators pressing how near they could stand before one snapped or retreated.

Antal held his ground. Good boy. Even Fi saw how much it shook him to do so.

“Good to see you again, virso.”

Antal flinched when his father raised a hand—an inquisitive brush of claw along the fabric of his collar. Mortal fabric.

“Hm,” was all Avroz said of it. Then, “Perhaps we’ll cross paths again soon.”

He vanished, leaving Fi and Antal alone in the clearing with nothing but rubble.

And a Void horse, flicking her ears between them.

“You have to let me try,” Fi said in seasonspeak. “One time. I can get the jump on himone time. Shave off an antler at least.”

“Fionamara…”

“Or a hand, maybe? Can daeyari grow those back?”

“You meet everything with claws.Please, not this.”

Her attempts at absurdity did nothing to lift Antal’s slump. His harrowed gaze didn’t break from the charred building remains. Aisinay bumped her snout to his chest. With a sigh, he stroked her neck.