Page 67 of Sunsplitter

His tail lashed as he retreated, past Qirza, into the hall that led to her office.

As Tyvo walked ahead, she lingered. Hardly a reprieve. Her look to Antal was slower, keener, sending a shudder down his spine.

“It’s been a long time, Antal,” Qirza said.

Here, at least, he knew what he was supposed to do. Antal bowed, touching his highest antler tip. “An honor to see you again, Councilor Qirza.”

“You will bring any future disputes with your territory neighbors to me.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“And the next time you have adaeyari headto share with me, you’ll deliver it yourself.”

“Of course, councilor. Though I have no plans of needing to do so.”

Qirza’s hum was close enough to approval. The crowd parted for her to leave, back to gossiping whispers as she disappeared into the hall. Antal exhaled a tight breath.

There were more eyes on him. For five decades, he’d hardly seen another daeyari. Now, dozens appraised him like a cut of meat. And when he turned…

Avroz watched with tail low. Face blank.

Then, a slow grin. For the first time in a century, Antal couldn’t spot razors at the edges.

“Syvr,” Avroz said lowly. “Damage control?”

Syvr snapped on a smirk easy as drawing a breath, a parting bow to Avroz before stepping toward the crowd. Their tail brushed Antal’s as they passed.

“Chin up,” they whispered, just for him.

Unnecessary. Antal knew how he had to deal with his father.

Syvr set to work, slipping alongside the closest group of daeyari, a greeting to a territory lord they’d not seen in too long, a laugh at Tyvo’s spectacle, already diverting attention.

“Come.” Avroz beckoned Antal into another hall, away from the stir he’d caused. Antal could cause another, refuse his father in front of so many watchers.

It was easier to fall in line and get this over with.

The corridor was dim, unnervingly quiet after the drama of the gallery. Avroz led them onto a side balcony. Conduits lights were imbedded in the stone beneath Antal’s feet. No rail guarded the edge, unlike most human architecture. The unhindered view looked out upon purple-hued forest below, the canopy glowing with fireflies.

“I’ll admit,” Avroz said, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Antal stepped to the ledge, testing the lip of stone beneath his feet. He let the breeze ruffle his hair. Watched it stir the leaves below. Fionamara seemed perplexed by the daeyari proclivity for high perches. It was easier to think up here, the world smaller, more manageable.

“You can spare your lecture,” Antal said.

“Lecture?” Avroz circled, joining him at the ledge.

“Of how I shouldn’t have come. How I could tarnish your lofty reputation. I’ve heard the council’s decision, enough to satisfy my curiosity. You can have your aedari hunt. I’ll return to my place on the Winter Plane.”

“You held your ground with Tyvo.” Not a bite. Avroz’s tone was one Antal almost didn’t recognize, slow and… approving.

Antal stared at him, betrayed by confusion creasing his brow.

Avroz was a proud daeyari. He stood now on the grounds of his empire, eyes burgundy in the twilight, hair unruffled in its braid. How many years had Antal wished he could hold his tail that calm, his chin that confident?

“You wouldn’t have stood your ground before,” Avroz said. “You’ve grown.”

“That’s why you sent me to the Winter Plane, wasn’t it? So I could grow stronger, more cunning. Well done.”