Page 109 of Sunsplitter

She even tasted like Void.

“How?” he demanded.

“Well, I figured out what raw Void ether feels like. Very strange. Very flimsy. But then I held it to my stomach and…” She scrunched her mouth. “Visualized what I wanted? Like Voidwalking. Only this time, I was visualizing my stomach not shredded to ribbons.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

Fionamara bristled. “It was that, or dying!”

She’d said the same thing when she’d first Voidwalked. A last resort, alone against Verne, flinging herself into the Void on a gamble. Antal couldn’t take her with him. He couldn’t leave her behind. What was he supposed to do to keep this woman safe?

“Fionamara, this is…”

“I think it’s impressive,” she said. “Not like you can complain. You left me behind!”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have taken me with you.”

“So you fought Avroz instead?”

She scoffed. “That bastard can suck a prickly cock—”

A flick of static silenced them both.

Ixli appeared on the ridgeline.

Fionamara pulled her bodysuit over her chest, sword hilt already in hand. Ixli kept her distance, dappled sun on her cheeks, an unusual wariness to her posture. No spear drawn. That was a good start.

When she looked at Fionamara, Antal growled in warning.

“How is your…” Ixli paused. Considered. “Fi. Are you alright?”

Fionamara considered her with equal bristles. “I’m alive.”

“Yes. That seems to be causing Avroz quite some consternation.” Ixli looked to Antal.

“We’re fine,” he said, still guarded. “Thank you for checking.”

Ixli’s tail flicked. She spoke too low.

“Antal, when you told Avroz…not another one. What did you mean?”

Antal’s breath came out in a hiss. He’d moved against his father without thinking, had shouted things he shouldn’t have. Only claws. Only fury. Only the possibility of Fionamara hurt.

Now, Ixli’s stare was piercing. He looked away—

And found Fionamara staring as well. Her lips parted, brow drawn to that lethal furrow.

“They don’t know?” she whispered.

Of course Antal hadn’t told Ixli. After Razik’s death, he’d taken months to remember how to function, barely eating, unable to look at a meal without desperate eyes staring back. And even once the fog began to clear? He hadn’t known who to trust. They all belonged to Avroz.

They still did.

Ixli stepped closer. “You had another human? Before this one?”

Antal said nothing.