Page 186 of Voidwalker
Verne stood not ten strides from Fi. This daeyari was slimmer than Antal, not shorter in stature but sleeker in limb, an angular frame with ash gray calves bare to the snow. Gone were the silver ornaments that had tipped her antlers. Gone was the showy attire, her dress traded for leggings and a high-collared tunic, fabric glittering with iridescent inlays. Her raven hair was braided between her antlers, the loose sides swept from her face with silver pins.
Shefeltolder than Antal, her added centuries shown not in wrinkled features, but something more lethal in her taut posture, those bright scarlet eyes. That same predatory sway to her tail, though. Fi’s thoughts took up a new chorus, sorrow-labored breaths traded for a shaking exhale.
Run. Don’t let her have you. Not after all this time.
“What are you doing out here, little one?” The questionrolled off Verne’s black tongue like spoiled sugar. “And all alone?”
Run run run run run.
Fi’s legs shook. Her lifelong nightmare stood in front of her, alone with the blood-soaked streets of her abandoned home. Running would be easy. The rabbit’s survival instinct.
Never run from a daeyari. Fi knew better.
At Fi’s silence, Verne cocked her head, that animal-like tilt that captivated her in Antal. Blood-curdling now.
“Perhaps you can tell me what happened here?” Verne said. “Where everyone’s gone?” A carving edge slipped onto her tongue. “Why mypetreturned to me in tatters?”
Fi catalogued her weapons. The hilt of her sword in one coat pocket. A daeyari energy capsule in the other. Meager tools, and even if she’d been better outfitted, she’d balk at fighting a daeyari alone. This confrontation was supposed to come with allies at her back.
All their preparations, shattered in a single day.
“And my Arbiter?” Verne said. Flat as ice. “What’s become of her?”
The panic never left Fi, that instinct chiseled into her bones by a hundred generations of mortal ancestors carved beneath these creatures.
But fuck if she wasn’t also angry. And grieving. And acutely aware that, despite ten years haggling with the seediest sons of bitches across the Season-Locked Planes, her fiercest negotiation tactics weren’t going to cut it for Verne.
Verne. This monster who’d hollowed Astrid into a husk of her former self.
This tyrant whose conquest had stolen Fi’s brother from her.
Verne stepped toward her. If Antal had taught Fi anything about these beasts, it was to hold her ground. She did so,even when the daeyari grinned, all blushed lips and sharp teeth.
Verne vanished, the teleport snapping Fi’s tongue with telltale static. Petty trick. Fi tasted it against her teeth, tensing for the follow up.
Another prick.
Fi dove clear, hitting the ground at a roll, snow and rocks biting her shoulder. Verne lunged over her, black claws raking empty air. Fi palmed her daeyari energy capsule and Shaped the strongest current she dared, crimson burning her palm as she shoved a concussive blast.
Verne reeled backward, a scarlet shield snapping at her fingertips.
The daeyari emerged with no visible injuries, just a growl and flashed fangs. This monster Fi had always feared. This nightmare she’d let steer her life for decades. She gripped her sword hilt but didn’t draw. Patience came harder when facing down a man-eater.
Another pulse of static hit her mouth as Verne vanished. There was always a pause. The briefest gap, enough time for Fi to draw her sword and Shape a current into the blade.
She swung as Verne reappeared.
Surprise flashed through the daeyari’s eyes. Then, a dig of blade against flesh. Verne snarled and flinched away, clutching her arm, black blood dripping from shoulder to elbow.
The bitch wasn’t untouchable. A strained laugh pushed through Fi’s thudding heart, her haggard breaths.
After all Verne had taken from her? Fi would cleave her fucking head from her shoulders.
The wound healed quickly, gray flesh sewn back together by scarlet stitches. Fi wouldhaveto take Verne’s head off, or none of this would matter.
The daeyari glowered at the blood on her hand. She lunged straight this time. No prickle of static. Just claws aimed at Fi’s throat. Fi lifted her sword to parry.
Energy-coated claws slicedthroughthe blade. Some fresh bullshit. The current sputtered. Fi clutched the hilt, fighting to Shape the weapon back to a stable state.
