Page 68 of Sunsplitter

“And did you get nothing out of it?”

“Like what?”

“There’s nothing you’ve enjoyed about the Winter Plane?”

Antal thought of Thomaskweld, sprawled like gold upon the valley floor. He thought of divine notes filling the music hall. He thought of the sweetness of Fionamara’s mouth, the drag of her lips against his throat.

“Why would you care?” he growled.

“I do,” Avroz said. “Though you don’t seem to think so.”

Antal tried to maintain his sneer. He tried to stand firm. But something foreign flickered across Avroz’s face, a card his father normally kept so close to his chest.

Frustration.

“Itisgood to see you here,” Avroz said.

Antal scoffed.

“You think it was easy for me to send you away?” There came that flicker again, an edge of vulnerability Avroz never showed. “You think it was easy to do nothing when Verne came before the council to flaunt her victory? She sought me out after the meeting, to express her personal apology.” He huffed. “Short-sighted wretch. She didn’t know where you were, was surprised to learn you hadn’t come home already. I knew you must be planning something.”

Not the story he’d told before. A lie? An omission? Antal’s foot skimmed the edge of the balcony, teetering.

“You left me on my own,” he snarled.

“Itrusted you. To be as strong as I knew you could be. Now here you are.”

Antal fell still as a startled hare when Avroz reached for him. He could scarcely breathe, as his father’s claws brushed gentlythrough his hair, following the curve of his antlers.

“Yme was right,” Avroz said, impossibly soft. “They’re growing in well.”

Antal clamped his teeth so hard, he feared his canines might chip.

Avroz didn’t care. He wasn’t soft. He’d ripped Razik’s throat open and let him bleed out on the floor. Antal hated this closeness, this intimate touch.

He hated the longing it sparked in him, a tenderness he’d been denied so long. Those memories were distant, the feeling of his father’s hand ruffling his hair, the pride in Avroz’s voice. Antal thought that ache had crumbled to ash, the naïve hope that somehow, things could be right between them again.

He jerked away from his father’s touch.

“What do you want?” Antal’s voice shook, a slip of weakness.

Avroz held steady. “I want something?”

“You always want something. You want me here. To take the vacant seat on the Daey Celva, before you leave for your Pilgrimage.”

Avroz’s eyes went subtly wider. Genuine surprise, followed by a low, “Oh. Youhavegotten more clever.”

Antal didn’t want to be right. “A waste of time. You heard Tyvo. I’m not fit to be here.”

“You bested Verne. You caused quite a stir, put your name on several tongues.”

“Ikilledher.” A taboo among even rival daeyari, their deaths cursed by reincarnation into mindless beasts.

“She gave you no choice,” Avroz said, the same matter-of-fact tone he must have used to spin the story to his peers. “Many were impressed that you managed it.”

“And what will they say of mebedding humans?”

At that, Avroz paused. There came his usual edge, face tightin disapproval. “All council members have their… indiscretions. Keep your pet. So long as you distinguish yourself otherwise, no one will care.”