Page 70 of Sunsplitter

“You want me to hunt this aedari?” he said. “You want me on the Daey Celva?”

Antal mustered every scrap of courage in his Void-ether body. He stepped closer to Avroz than he’d ever dared. As close as he’d stood to Tyvo, the scent of hoarfrost snapping his nerves.

“I also keep my position as territory lord on the Winter Plane,” Antal said. “And before you leave on your Pilgrimage, you motion to codify my new system.”

His demands hung in the scant space between them. Avroz didn’t flinch. Didn’t bare his teeth. His head tilted to an angle of intrigue.

“Antal,” he said slowly, curved with a grin. “Is this a negotiation?”

Chin up. Breath steady. Antal focused on every piece of the act. “Does that displease you, izaevi?”

He nearly cracked when Avroz laughed.

“Quite the opposite. You found your spine on that Plane after all.” Avroz’s grin stretched wider, baring too many teeth. “Deal.”

Fi sprawled across several cushions, music playing on the gramophone, halfway through her third record of the night when static finally skimmed her tongue. She looked up to find a new shadow within the sitting room.

Antal stood behind her, returned at last from the Twilit Plane.

Merciless Void, he was a stunning creature by any measure, unfairly so in his daeyari attire. His black and iridescent jacket accentuated his lithe frame, trousers slim to his thighs. Blue-black hair lay tousled between his antlers.

His eyes were tired, red smoldering within black sclera.

He looked Fi over with a curious sway to his tail. “You weren’t at the capitol.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t feel like waiting.”

“You Voidwalked?” Tired, but every line of him lit up when he grinned. Fi could devour that grin with her teeth.

Antal cocked his head to the gramophone. His tail curled a new arc, swishing in rhythm to the piano and clarinet. He held out his hand.

She arched a brow at him, then her casual sweater and trousers. Antal scoffed.

“Don’t be absurd, Fionamara. I’d have you dressed in anything.” His voice roughened. “Or nothing.”

The heat of his eyes shivered through her. Fi still hadn’t settled from her talk with Kashvi that afternoon. Antal looked equally unsteady, his hair a littletootousled, reaching for her before sharing any news of his visit to the Dusk Council.

For both reasons, she took his hand.

He wrapped his arm around her lower back. She settled against him, hand on his shoulder. They swayed together to find the tempo. One. Two. One, two, three, then—

Antal pulled her into a six-count. The music set the rhythm, but the steps were improvised. He led.

Fi followed, claws impossibly light against her fingers as he pushed her out. He pulled her in, his elbow at her back, guiding her to turn. A lifted hand sent her into a twirl. Fi spun an arm out for him to catch her on the other side, an ebb and flow of tension, a moment where she dangled on his fingertips and swung her hips to the swell of the music.

Antal always smiled when they danced. Fi glimpsed it between each turn, drank it in when he pulled her against him one final time, the song winding to a close.

A tired smile, too brittle on the edges.

Antal held her as the next song started, arm around her waist. He tilted his head, eyes closed as he buried his face in her hair. Fi ran a finger down his jacket, tracing iridescent inlays.

“How was the Dusk Council?” she asked.

A growl rumbled Antal’s chest. “Avroz has volunteered to lead a hunt for the aedari.”

“Oh. Great. How fun for him.”

“He… wishes me to join.”