Page 144 of Voidwalker
“No, no, no!” Shouting made her head throb. “Don’t teleport. I’ll throw up if you do.”
He tilted her a skeptical look. “You’re probably going to throw up anyway.”
“Antaaal.”
He sighed, holding her upright enough to stagger out the door.
Outside, the deepest chill of night had set in, making Fi shiver. She mumbled good night to Kashvi and Boden then clutched her arms in her coat and stared at her boots, focused on walking straight. Mostly straight. Not very straight, judging by Antal’s growl as he tried to keep an arm around her. She tripped on something… it might actually have just been the ground. Fi tipped forward.
Antal caught her.
She yelped as he scooped her legs, lifting her into his arms as if she weighed nothing.
Fi squirmed, indignant in his grasp, but swiftly found herself more comfortable than expected. Less dizzy. She felt… safe. His bare arms, cool at first, grew warm against her.
She scowled. “Can you change how hot your skin is?”
“It’s just energy,” he replied.
He carried her out of Nyskya, through the Curtain at the edge of the trees and into the quiet of a Shard, pale trees reaching toward Void black and a dim red aurora. The gentle rock ofhis gait lulled Fi. She rested her head against his chest. Just for a moment. Just to stop her head spinning. His smell of ice and ozone turned her thoughts foggier.
“You did great tonight.” Fi patted him like a well-mannered dog. “Good progress. Very tolerable.”
“And I only had to bare my heart. How easy.”
Fi puffed her lips. “Kashvi’s so mean. Acting like she still expects you to devour me or something. Rude.”
Antal quieted. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Fi slurred.
“For thinking better of me.”
Sappy piece of shit daeyari, making Fi’s chest flutter. She couldn’t afford any kind of chest fluttering with her stomach struggling to stay down. Where did he get off on being so thoughtful? So considerate, to carry her home. So handsome, in the dim Void light.
“Teach me how to cuss in daeyari,” she demanded.
Antal glanced down, brow raised. “What do you want to know?”
“Fuck.”
He laughed. “A fine place to start. We have two versions. Oyzen is meant for insult. Oysen is more… intimate.” The words sounded nearly the same, the second a softer roll of the tongue.
“That’s so weird,” Fi complained. But versatile. “What about fuck you?”
“Oyzen yzru.” The sharp syllables danced off Antal’s tongue. If Fi remembered any of tonight, she’d have to ask him to speak more daeyari to her.
“Fuck me?” she asked next.
He hesitated. “In what context?”
“Fuck me, an insufferable daeyari is carrying me home because I can’t walk straight.”
He grinned. “Oyzen yzri.”
Fi mulled the mini linguistics lesson, trying to make it stick to her few active brain cells. “So the other version is more literal. Fuck me. Oysen… yzri?” She rolled the softer “s” on her tongue, like he had.
Antal said nothing. Fi jabbed an insistent finger to his chest.
