Page 182 of Sunsplitter

How unfortunate for her, that Fi had practice resisting those exact crimson eyes.

“Bullshit.”

Yme pulled back, her huff indignant. “Excuse me?”

Fi yanked her hands from Yme’s. Having Avroz’s claws at her throat? Again? Good for a rush of adrenaline. It swirled through her, hot as an energy current.

“You say you want what’s best for Antal?” Fi said. “Do you know what your biggest problem is, Yme? You’re actually clever, aren’t you? And that makes thisworse. Because you understand what Avroz is doing.”

“I’ve tried toprotecthim,” Yme warned.

“And you’ve done a shit job of it. Avroz treats Antal like a tool. Butyou” —Fi levelled a finger—“you treat him like he can’t think for himself. How is that any better?”

Yme stammered. “I…”

“Antal is a person. Your son. He deserves to have his own opinions, even if they aren’t what you ‘envisioned’ for him. He deserves to be believed. And he deserves to be told the truth, if you really want what’s best for him.”

Yme’s tail drooped until it brushed the floor. A snarl would have been easier than those fractured red irises, and for all Fi’s demands of the truth, a part of herdidn’twant it. A small, quaking piece of her heart wanted to do exactly as Yme said, to go back to Antal, to hug him and dream about eternity and pretend she’d never overheard anything.

Because whatever Avroz had done, they still needed him. They needed him to put Antal on the council, and to support their new system in Thomaskweld, andfuck, how had she felt like victory just moments ago?

When Yme finally spoke, it wasn’t a snap. It wasn’t an argument. It was cold, and quiet, and exactly the thing Fi was dreading to hear.

“If you tell Antal,” Yme said, “it will ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

Part Four

Who can say, how long Veshri’s energy wandered the Void, before he learned to weave his immortal form? Who can know, what vast reaches of the Shattered Planes the first Voidwalker has seen, that none of us will ever lay eyes upon?

Most daeyari who embark on their Pilgrimage will never cross paths with Veshri. Fewer still can claim the honor of hearing him speak.

He taught daeyari the path to immortality, a gift enough to last eternity. The rest of his wisdom is harder won. The road before us, ours to walk.

May we build a world to make our sire proud. His gift of immortality, well-earned.

— Annual address by speaker Qirza, official transcript, archives of the Daey Celva

Antal stalked his old bookshelves, trailing a claw along the spines. Fifty years he’d been away, yet someone had kept everything dusted. A bittersweet observation. He tried to focus on the tomes, the gramophone records, but his attention drifted.

Veshri, the first Voidweaver, had appeared before him.

He’d addressed Antal by name.

He’d told Fionamara how to become immortal.

Antal’s chest heated at the possibility. The mechanics were insultingly simple, replacing mortal flesh with ether, piece-by-piece. Not easy. If anyone could do it, Fionamara would.

And she could be his. Forever.

There in the dusk light, Antal glimpsed a future he’d scarcely let himself wish for, all their work coming together: his father appeased, his friends reclaimed, a seat on the Daey Celva all but assured. With that, he’d be able to keep Thomaskweld safe.

With Fionamara at his side, who knew what else they could accomplish.

Antal’s hand paused on a shelf, books forgotten, tail a contented sway. Veshri’s mercy, this washopeheating his sternum.The embers kindled hotter when his door opened, Fionamara slipping back into his room.

They snuffed like a smothered match when he saw the look on her face.

She was pale as ice. As the door closed, she glanced down the hall, a fleeing beast wary of its trail. Antal’s insides flashed cold. He was about to demand what did this—whodid this—but she was across the room already, reaching for his hands.