Page 215 of Sunsplitter

This might be what stunned Antal the most. He’d spent centuries, wholly convinced of how alone he was. That Avroz was,and always would be, untouchable. Yet there stood his lover and his friends in the gallery, risking themselves to support him. Here wasQirza, head of the Daey Celva, defending his space to speak, a shift fit to shatter every misconception he’d held.

For the first time in two and half centuries, it made Avroz look… fallible. Vulnerable.

“We will hearallarguments, Avroz,” Qirza said. “In the interest of fairness.”

“Fairness?” he spat. “You’d weigh their speculations against my word?”

“Explain this, then.” She held up his antler tip. “Why does it bear aedari glyphs?”

“My antler was broken in combat with the aedari. How am I to know what became of the fragment after?”

“You claimed to have killed that aedari. Who else would retrieve this?”

“This is outlandish, even foryou, speaker. I’ve served this council for centuries. I’ve proven my loyalty—”

A new hush fell upon the gallery.

Avroz looked up. Since Antal had taken his stand, his father had worn disinterest, disappointment, derision. Now, for the first time, his eyes widened in genuine fear.

Yme stood at the railing.

She wore a simple midnight dress, long and silky to her lithe frame. Her dark hair was bound in a single braid atop her crown, loose against her shoulders. A stark simplicity, standing before all the Daey Celva and their audience.

“Yme…” Avroz said. Impossible to tell, whether admonishment or plea.

Yme held her partner’s gaze. A swallow slipped down her throat, her tail a restless swish.

She looked to Antal. When their eyes met it was… not anapology. Her gaze was sorrowful, a ghost of decades gone by without her intervening on her son’s behalf. An acknowledgment that nothing would make up for what she hadn’t given him.

A promise, that now was the time to become something different.

“Enough of this, Avroz,” she spoke in a hush. Then louder, to the full assembly, “He came home that night. With aedari glyphs on his antler.”

“Ezria.” Thatwasa plea. Avroz stepped toward her.

“He told me they were marker glyphs.” Yme looked again to Antal, and he saw the mother who’d laughed as she’d braided his hair, who’d cooed soft words as he’d sat in her garden. All her flawed ways of loving him, all her desperation to be better. “Avroz cut the antler off. He disappeared with it, said to tell no one. I…” Her claws tightened on the rail. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where he took it.”

“He took it tomy territory,” Antal said, shouting above the voices. “He planted it there, so the aedari could find the Season-Locked Planes, all because…” Antal swallowed. Bowed to Qirza. “He wanted me to earn my bands. I’m sorry, speaker, I swear I didn’t know.”

Avroz snarled. “How dare you accuse me.” A step closer, tail lashing. “You’renothingon this floor. Nothing but whatI’vebuilt you into. And you think yourself strong enough to—”

Qirza grabbed his wrist.

Her claws sank tight enough to puncture flesh, stance wide. An anchor, to prevent him from teleporting. When Avroz growled, Qirza snapped her fangs.

“Do not snarl atme, daeyari.”

The guards circled Avroz. A tightening snare. Here was a version of Antal’s father he’d never seen, had never imagined.

Avroz: a cornered beast. Head high and unrepentant.

“We’ll arrange a formal trial,” Qirza announced. “You, Avroz, may defend yourself at that time. And we will hear the full testimony of all witnesses.”

A guard lashed a cord around Avroz’s wrists, Shaping it with red energy, a binding to prevent teleportation. A second guard pulled him away from Qirza. Avroz snarled at his captors.

But his glare fell upon his son, all his teeth bared. Here, at the end, was all the loathing Antal had known lurked beneath Avroz’s calm exterior, finally displayed for all to see.

“You’ll regret this, Antal,” his father vowed. “Take it back, before it’s too late. You’ll lose everything without me!”