Page 134 of Voidwalker
The slam of Fi’s back atop the roof of the car left her aching for air. She found little, a paw pinning her in place.
The Beast—thedaeyari—hunched over her, saliva dripping from sickle teeth.
Knowing what it was made the form even more grotesque: the way pale skin stretched this starved and pantherine body, the violent jerks of its tail, the gnarled antlers. The creature tilted its horse head, shadows pooling in the skeletal hollowsof its eye sockets as it looked at her. Those pupil-less red irises burned with nothing but hunger.
Nothing like Antal’s.
Never in Fi’s life had she reached for an energy capsule faster. The daeyari magic seared her palm. She adjusted, pulling for a less painful current, condensing red energy into a projectile that hit the Beast’s jaw. It lurched off her, snarling.
Antal sprang out the train hatch. A heartbeat passed as he took in the scene—Fi on her back, a sizzle of red static, a derived daeyari reeling above her. He threw himself at the creature’s throat with claws and teeth. The Beast snarled deeper, gripping Antal’s smaller body in one rake of claws then hurling him against the train car with acrack. He rolled to a kneel as the creature retreated, black blood staining his chin, a grimace as he spit out a mouthful.
Then, he was at Fi’s side.
Her thoughts spun circles, struggling to understand why Antal cupped her cheeks in both hands. Why his eyes went wide. Why he scoured her head to toe.
Worried. He was worried she’d been hurt.
“I’m fine,I’m fine,” she said. Some bruises beneath her silviamesh, but thank the merciless Void for nothing worse than that.
Energy crackled through the wind. At the far end of the car, the Beast lifted its ravaged throat. Sinew and skin wove back together as threads of sewing red magic, healing, just as Antal had when they’d faced Tyvo. Only faster.
They could win a fight against Astrid. But a fight against Astrid and this abomination?
“Let’s go,” Fi said.
Antal snapped her a questioning look. An “are you sure?” look.
“We’ve done what we came for,” she said. “Let’sgo.”
The Beast rose to full height, wounds nearly vanished, teethbared in a snarl. Antal held out his hand. Fi reached for him.
“Fi!”
Astrid pulled herself through the hatch and found unsteady footing atop the train roof, wind cutting her short hair into obsidian shards. Her eyes burned ruby.
“Don’t you dare run away from me again!” Astrid shouted against the wind.
The words flew like spears, crafted to skewer Fi’s heart. To pin her down like guilt-laced hooks until she crumpled into another desperate decision.
What right did Astrid have to make such a demand?
Fi wasn’t sure anymore whether friend or enemy stared back at her. She wasn’t sure how much to blame her cowardice or Astrid’s loathing for this tangle snaring them both.
But she wasn’t running with that thoughtless abandon anymore. Fi was finally ready to fight—onherterms.
“Sorry,darling,” she called back. “Catch you next time.”
Fi grabbed Antal’s hand. As the world lurched, the last thing she heard was a roar of wind, and Astrid screaming her name.
30
This was supposed to be fun
“That’s a dozen energy crossbows,” Kashvi reported, reading off a color-coded clipboard. “Half as many sword hilts. Plenty of metal to make more. Good start toward a rebellion, I’d say.”
She wore a rare smile, dark hair drawn into a tail and eyes glinting mischief. Another late night saw the tavern empty, the copper light fixtures dimmed, Iliha gone to bed a half hour ago in preparation for morning baking. Boden had brought a crate of aurorabeast steaks for barter. In exchange, Kashvi set out three cups of hot mulled wine and a plate of butter cookies.
Fi wrapped her hands around the ceramic, grateful for warmth as the energy capsule in Kashvi’s furnace burned low for the night. Boden accepted the drink but kept his attention buried in a notebook, brow pinched, a pair of the dorkiest reading glasses in the Planeverse perched low on his nose. After Fi’s escape from Astrid then swift retrieval of the metal coils from the train, Boden had spent the following days cataloguing supplies for the weapon smiths.
