Page 36 of Voidwalker
The vavriter beckoned them inside, Antal following with svelte strides, Fi stalking his heels like a grimacing poltergeist. Maybe speaking to Verne’s Arbiter wasn’t an awful plan, after all. Maybe Fi was, in fact,eagerto hear Astrid explain how this was all a tasteless misunderstanding—and why Fi shouldn’t shout her off a cliff.
Just nowhere near Verne.
They entered a large foyer, ceiling vaulted over rafters carved with beasts and flora, energy conduits feeding red light into eyes and petals. Half-moon windows lined the wall, filled with views of the snowy forest far below the cliffs. A long fire pit lent welcome heat, but no crackle of flame. Petrified black wood glowed with veins of red energy.
Astrid gestured them to wait at a sitting area, a low table and cushions arranged on the floor, overlooking a patio with more sweeping views of the valley. Neither Fi nor Antal sat. The moment Astrid vanished down a hall, the daeyari snapped her a withering glare.
“You know Verne’s Arbiter?” he demanded.
Good on him for spotting that tension. Any creature with eyes would have been hard-pressed not to.
“That’s why this is adumb plan.” Fi itched at the memory of Astrid’s easy smirks in Thomaskweld, that purr when she’d assured Milana that Fi was perfect for the job.
No. She wouldn’t.
“You failed to mention this connection,” Antal said.
“Youdidn’t tell me the plan! Instead, you zapped us here and expected me to play along. Now, if you want me to talk to Astrid, get us alone, without—”
Fi tensed at the sound of footsteps. Astrid’s boot-heavy strides, accompanied by something softer: bare feet on stone, a click of claws. Void no.Anyonebut—
“Welcome!” The voice rang clear as crystal, edges sharp enough to slice Fi’s skin.
For the first time in ten years, her nightmare appeared before her in the flesh.
If Antal was a shadow, Verne was a sable-fletched arrow. Her dress clasped in a halter of silver studded by carnelian, black fabric cut lean to her figure, skirt heavy with embroidered silver and quartz that sparkled like a fall of stars. High slits up her thighs showed slashes of ash gray skin. Daeyari were slender built, scant in curves but sharp in angles of lethal muscle. Claws like obsidian. Raven hair barretted in silver, braided in three plaits between her antlers, sides loose to cascade over her shoulders.
Those scarlet eyes and black sclera had haunted Fi for a decade. They’d burned a hole through her marrow, a soul-deep wound to carry to the end of her days. Now, as Verne’s gaze slid onto her once more, reunited with the hare who’d escaped so long ago…
Her attention flitted past. Disinterested. Unrecognizing.
A small, strangled sound escaped Fi’s throat.
Verne met Antal with a fangless grin, arms extended with palms up. An unfamiliar gesture. Antal laid his arms atop hers, claws upturned. She matched his height, though her antlers branched longer: six points per side against his three, curving back then up, the black lengths coated in carvings and dangling silver bells at the tips.
They stood too close. Two predators, playing at etiquette in the form of forced proximity.
“Maelvasi je yzir kezros,” Verne said warmly. “It’s been too long, Antal.”
Her voice was sweet as rotted plums. Fi sickened at the sound of it.
How could Verne not recognize her, after Fi was dragged, screaming, to her shrine?
Or was it worse to consider Verne simply didn’t care? A lioness regarding a gnat. Fi startled at the sting of it, how insignificant she might be to this immortal who’d upended her life.
“Please, sit.” Verne gestured Antal to a floor cushion. Her lighter scarlet gaze flicked back to Fi, still no recognition, but an uncomfortable pause. “I didn’t realize you’d taken an Arbiter. Astrid, would you be so kind?”
Astrid beckoned Fi aside with a magnanimous sweep of her arm, still aloof, as if humoring an unfamiliar guest. Her ruby eyes flashed hard like a wildcat.
When Fi glanced to Antal, he nudged his chin at Astrid, then returned his attention to her mistress. Hardly a pep talk.
So Fi gave herself one.Get your shit together.The beasts were distracted.Vernewas distracted, and Fi needed information. She hid her racing heart behind a steel spine, no quiver as she forced her chin up.
At Astrid’s gesture, Fi settled stiffly on a sofa against the wall, far enough not to intrude upon their esteemed daeyari lords. Verne settled on a floor cushion. Fi watched the beast like a wary rabbit, but wasn’t deemed worthy of another glance.
“I’d offer a drink,” Verne said, light. “But you know how hard it is to get anything good on these Planes. And what mortals pass asliquor.”
Antal sat across from her, cross-legged, tail wrapped around him. He wore a mask of impressive indifference, though he sat with the tension of a creature profoundly uncomfortable. Fine. Let him deal with Verne.
