Page 62 of Sunsplitter

Inside, the tavern offered refuge from the cold: exposed rafters, brass tables and bar, tall windows overlooking the riverand the lights along the opposite bank. Music and conversation filled every corner. A smell of whiskey and wood. Automaton birds perched and clacked on shelves packed with the best liquor in the Season-Locked Planes. Fi and her “smuggler brigade” had helped with that.

A woman flitted by, skirts loose and flaxen hair tied back, pale cheeks flushed as she balanced an impossible tray of drinks. Still, she managed a shoulder check to Fi.

For Kashvi, she swirled to a halt and twined her hand behind her wife’s neck, pulling her in for a slow, savoring kiss.

“I’ll be with you miscreants in a moment,” Iliha said. “How strong are we drinking?”

“Strong.” Kashvi brushed a strand of hair off Iliha’s temple, impossibly soft for her onyx exterior. “Take your time, dove.”

Everyone else had fun pet names. Antal better get his shit together.

They settled on stools overlooking the river. A light snow fell outside, clinging to the sill in lazy clumps. The place had been a wreck when Iliha snapped it up, not content to stay behind in Nyskya while Kashvi oversaw the capital. Another stretch of “temporary.” The industrious woman had turned a fixer-upper into one of the hottest new spots on the riverfront.

“The lights are new?” Fi pointed to a set of copper wall sconces shaped like trout—because fuck if she wanted to have a serious conversation right now.

Kashvi appraised the decor. “Vintage, I’m told.”

“Did Iliha get a good price on them?”

“Haggled the fucker blind.”

“That a girl.”

Fi strummed the metal tabletop. She and Kashvi didn’t drink together often—once before the tavern had opened, once after the governor’s election, once on the anniversary of Boden’sdeath. This woman had the subtlety of a walrus, jaw locked as she scowled out the window.

“Good to see the conduit updates finally coming together,” Kashvi said. “Just in time. Seems there’s never a moment of peace around here.”

Subtle. As. A. Walrus. “You’re worried about the fires?”

Of course Kashvi was worried about the fires. Fi had gotten halfway through her explanation of,oh, by the way, there might be a deadly immortal creature running loose through the territory, and even the daeyari are terrified of it,before the governor had bent over in a coughing fit.

“I’ve been thinking about it now and then, yeah,” Kashvi said dryly.

“Everything will be fine. Antal is working on it.”

Iliha returned with two glasses of whiskey. She brushed her fingers through Kashvi’s hair before she left. Flicked Fi hard on the elbow. Fi grumbled then clinked glasses with Kashvi, followed by a savoring sip.

“How are things between you and the daeyari?” Kashvi asked.

Fi nearly spat the liquid back into her glass. She wiped a dribble on her lips. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about that sort of thing.”

“I don’t.” Kashvi stared at her own glass. “Not at all. And for the record, I don’t care abouthim. But…”

She cared about Fi. Too proud to say it. That was a weird, sobering thought to drink to.

“You two have been tense as wildcats since you got back from the Twilit Plane,” Kashvi said. “And sure, it’s a nice reprieve from you staring at each other like meals.”

Fi’s cheeks heated. “We do not.”

“A middle ground would be nice, is all I’m saying.”

“We’re fine,” Fi said.

Kashvi tilted her a skeptical look, cold enough to freeze the river.

“I’ll get you drunk, Fionamara Kolbeck,” Kashvi threatened. “Don’t think I won’t. I shouldn’t, because I have work to do this afternoon, and I’ll be very cross if you make me waste my time here instead of just saying what’s wrong.”

Fi huffed. “We could get drunk for fun, you know.”