Page 194 of Sunsplitter

She couldn’t go back to the Winter Plane, or she’d be dead the instant she stepped out of Void stasis.

She couldn’t stay here forever. A warm trickle of blood slipped down her cheek. Not stopped, just slowed, a final moment stretched out.

Antal’s mouth moved, trying to speak without sound. Fi thought hard at him:It’s ok. Calm down. We’ll figure this out.

He didn’t react. No thoughts returned to her. It made sense that the telepathy had been Veshri’s doing, that she couldn’t simply will herself mastery over such an obscure skill. Fi huffed all the same.

Antal held her cheeks, thumb brushing the blood that drippedfrom her eye. His mouth moved again, slower this time. More deliberate.

What do we do?

Fi didn’t know. She felt raw beneath the plea in his eyes, but by the endless reaches of the Void, shedidn’t know. She couldn’t bluff or bristle her way out of an arrow through the head.

She considered pushing Antal away.

That would be kinder, wouldn’t it? To shove him back to the Plane, not force him to watch another lover die in front of him?

But Fi couldn’t let go. Her fists tightened in his shirt, gripping him like an anchor. She wanted to tell him she’d be fine. She’d fix this. She’d healed herself before with Void ether, but no wound like this. Mortals weren’t made to survive wounds like this.

They’d been so close to a happy ending.

Fi wanted to scream at how unfair it was, the consequences of her own stubbornness. They should have left well enough alone, shouldn’t have gone hunting secrets.

These aedari should never have beenherein the first place. All Avroz’s doing. All a game they’d thought they were learning to play, only to find themselves pawns all along. Even so, they’d held up their end. Antal had been happy.

He’d asked her to marry him.

Fi fell as still as the Void around her. She’d never given him an answer. She’d thought she could have fun with it, plenty of time to tease him. Now she had a fucking arrow through her head.

She couldn’t leave him, without giving an answer.

Fi held Antal close. She looked him in the eye—with heroneworking eye.

Yes, she said, with all the emphasis silence could muster.

He cocked his head.

Yes, she said again, reaching to cup his chin. He was so warm and solid beneath her touch, the only real thing in this smothering emptiness.

Antal stared back at her, brow knitted with confusion.

He didn’t understand. Panic surged in Fi’s gut, cold as the Thomaskweld River.

Yes, I’d marry you, she mouthed.

Yes, I want to spend a hundred centuries with you, with increased fervor.

Yes, just please understand me, you useless immortal!

When he stared at her blankly, sorrow fracturing his features, something split in Fi’s chest. She might not have much time. She couldn’t die without telling him.

Shecouldn’tdie.

Without telling him.

The cold in her chest churned to something new. Hotter. Fiercer.

Fi couldn’t die here. She couldn’t leave Antal alone. For thirty-three years, she’d stockpiled bristles, steeled her spine, defenses to tackle anything that made her feel small.