Page 207 of Sunsplitter

The sting of a slap felt fresh on Antal’s cheek—sharper, when Avroz brushed an affectionate hand through his son’s hair. Antal flinched at that, too, pulling away with teeth bared. Avroz’s mouth settled into a firm line.

Antal could give in, like he always had. He could accept his father’s affection, grovel for the rare praise.

No. They were too far past that, now.

Avroz was called away as the meeting began. Alone, Antal considered the weight of the box in his hands, the weight of the secret in his chest. He could do this one more time. He could play his part, get what he needed.

But he couldn’t tell himself what Avroz had done was acceptable. He couldn’t tell himself what Avroz had doneto himwas acceptable. He could never lose sight of that again.

Antal’s name was called.

He breathed deep and settled into his mask. One more time.

Fi emerged from the black of a teleport into… more black. She squinted at the outline of a stone chamber, too dark to see with her normal eye, grayscale shapes with her new one.

“This is what it’s like for youall the time?” she whispered.

“The better question,” Syvr said, “is how you humans have survived this long without dark vision? You just stumble into objects and hope for the best?”

Fi huffed and pulled her cloak around her, hood drawn over her head. The fabric smelled like silviamesh and metal—borrowed from Ixli, to mask Fi’s human scent.

Because no mortals were allowed in the halls of the Dusk Council.

Ixli lurked beside her, lethally silent, eyes molten in the dark. When Fi had laid out Avroz’s schemes, Syvr had listened quietly, dissecting every word. Ixli had snarled like a rabid wolverine. Incredible that Syvr hadn’t lost a hand, after a solid hour holding Ixli’s wrist, discouraging her from teleporting straight to Avroz before they had a plan.

Now, the day of the nomination meeting had arrived, and Fi was ready to become a nuisance. Avroz had kept an ironclaw on his home. No celebrations, no invitations to Syvr or Ixli, insisting that Antal needed solitude to prepare—keeping him isolated. Sneaking a visit was out of the question, as Avroz would smell the traces of an intruder.

And Antal was going along with it.Stay on the Winter Plane, he’d begged Fi in the letter Syvr had passed to her. Antal’s shaking script had made her want to punch a hole in a wall.

They hadn’t had a chance to share their plan with him.

Antal was with his father, alone. Heading into that meeting,alone.

“How many daeyari will be here?” Fi asked.

“Twenty council members,” Ixli said with militant focus. “A couple dozen guards on the main floor, though they keep out of sight. At least several hundred in the gallery.”

Fi hummed at the prospect of being surrounded byseveral hundredcreatures who could eat her. Daunting, but not insurmountable.

Ixli growled in agreement.

“Which is why we’re sneaking in,notfighting,” Syvr said, exasperated. “Veshri help me, letting you two stand next to each other is like adding wind to a wildfire.”

Syvr moved quietly down the corridor, peering around a corner. Somewhere deep in the mountain, they’d explained, avoiding the main paths to the Dusk Council gallery.

“Do Iwantto know why Syvr’s so good at sneaking into here unnoticed?” Fi asked.

“Probably not,” Ixli muttered.

“You both wound me with your insinuations,” Syvr complained. “It’s clear, let’s go.”

The hallway was unlit, carved straight out of the stone. They passed a branching path, a drift of voices still far off. Fi’s cloakwould mask her smell at a distance, but not if any daeyari got close.

They just had to get to Antal. Give him what he needed to face Avroz, the moment the bastard least expected it.

“Walkquietly,” Ixli hissed.

Fi, who was walking damn near silently, despite the awkward cloak and only one functional eye, scowled. “Iamwalking quietly.”