Page 79 of Sunsplitter

Syvr’s grin widened. “Antal brought you?” Then, lower, “Areyouthe one who took Tyvo’s antler?”

Avroz’s spymaster inspected her with too many teeth in their smile. Not the honed razor of Antal’s father, but the buzz of a bee to pollen, eyes darting over every detail of her posture,flitting between her and Antal. Collecting. Savoring.

Antal didn’t like that, either.

Ixli’s ire was, by comparison, simpler to deal with.

“Ixli.” Avroz spoke her name as a command, prompting her to step back with head bowed. Next, a look to Syvr. “We’re late. And should look presentable.”

Syvr’s tail swished as they inspected their tunic, poking a claw through the hole Fionamara’s dagger had cut, a stain of black blood at the edges.

“No worries. Back in a flash. I’ll meet you there?” They grinned, then vanished.

Last, Avroz studied the vengeful human glaring at him. His tail took on a low swish, slow with contemplation. Antal braced for the fight.

“She may come,” Avroz said. “If she can refrain from stabbing any more of our allies.”

Antal flinched at the concession as much as a bite. Avroz didn’t make concessions unless it suited his interests. Letting Fionamara go so easily on the Twilit Plane, agreeing to let her join them now, made no sense for the cold and calculated daeyari Antal knew, not unless…

Antal shivered at the memory of his father’s gentle hand through his hair. That moment he’d softened on the council balcony.

This couldn’t genuinely be an attempt to make amends. After so many years?

“I can’t promise that,” Fionamara muttered at Antal’s side.

“Fionamara,” he hissed back.

“You can’t make me promise that.”

“Hush.”

“Let’s be off, then.” Avroz was the first to leave.

Ixli spared one more molten glare, then she vanished.

Fionamara held out her hand. Antal sent a plea to the Void before grasping it, pulling them both into a teleport.

The aedari scent in his territory on the Winter Plane had been recent. But one other had been reported since then, here on Summer. Avroz hoped to pick up a fresh trail.

They emerged to a city by the sea.

The sun glared down upon a crescent-shaped harbor, buildings stacked along the cliffs, pale roofs to diffuse the heat. They stood at the pinnacle, the patio of a grand government building in cream stone, tiles of blue and white around the arched entryway.

A human met them. He bowed, eyes downcast, gesturing them to follow without a word.

They crossed a courtyard, then a sunlit antechamber. The halls were wide, bright, meant for bustling foot traffic. All empty as a tomb. Not a single other human appeared in their path, and why would they? A pack of three daeyari, enough to send any sensible prey hiding.

Just as the people of Thomaskweld had once acted in Antal’s presence. The stark contrast made him grind his teeth. Beside him, Fionamara’s mouth went equally tight. She flashed him a quick, perceptive look he didn’t dare reply to.

Their guide paused outside a door, gesturing the visitors inside. Avroz crossed the threshold without a sideways glance. Then Ixli.

When Fionamara stepped forward, the other human held out a hand.

“Apologies,” he said in seasonspeak. “The Lord Daeyari has asked for no humans in his meeting chamber.”

Antal’s tail flicked. “She comes with me.”

The man’s flinch was painful—so visceral, Antal wondered if he’d ever spoken to a daeyari before. Or perhaps the flinchwas because he had. Antal wished no harm, but all his bold stance over bringing Fionamara along, only to be denied at the door? He risked a glance at Avroz. His father knew some seasonspeak, enough to make his spies useful.