Page 36 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

Awkward introductions

Fi didn’t have much time.

Hooves tromped through the forest, snapping branches and crunching ice, approaching fast. She scrambled to straighten her curls, bat the snow off her coat, sweeping away all signs she’d been tussling with a daeyari who she’d definitely not told Boden about. When had she had the chance?

Ok, maybe she’d had several chances to fess up, but she’d never expected Antal to hang around this long. Still made her the Plane’s worst sister. As usual.

Boden burst into the clearing, perched in the saddle of a boreal horse.

The beast’s black hooves sliced snow, winter-thick coat sable as night, an aurora fade of green and blue striping its legs and bristled mane.

Fi had tried convincing her bland older brother to get a Void horse, but her argument received a firm, “What the fuck would I use it for?” Her rebuttal of “but it would look cool ” met with equal dismissal.

Should have talked him into a mechanized snow sled. Anything to give advance notice of an impromptu visit. But no, Boden had a soft spot for hooves and reins and breathing things, so distant from the metal their father had worked.

As Boden dropped from his saddle, Fi adopted a casual stance, brow quirked at his haggard gait and ice-crusted beard.

“Fi! Are you all right?”

“I’m splendid. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Boden hunched in his aurorabeast coat, gloved hands bracing his thighs, breaths hard. His hair had probably started the morning in a tidy bun, now devolved to frizz.

Behind him, Aisinay greeted the boreal horse with a snort. The striped beast stomped its hooves, dislodging snow clumped to the fur.

“I heard an explosion ,” Boden said. “On my way up here. I hurried as fast as I could.”

Antal was right. Fi held back a curse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You… didn’t hear an explosion?”

“I think I’d know if something exploded in my front yard, Bodie.”

“So I was imagining things?”

“Maybe you heard a tree falling? Snow came in thick the other night, too much weight on the… OW !”

Fi winced when Boden punched her arm.

She punched back, harder . “What’s that for?”

“Don’t lie to me, Fi. What’s going on?”

“I’m killing time! Since someone ordered me to wait it out up here.”

Boden deflated. All that mustered authority, crumbling the moment his shoulders sagged. Fi wished they hadn’t. It was easier to lie to him when he didn’t wear those tired eyes, enough to crack her like sheet ice.

“I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, Fi. You know I am.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I meant to visit sooner, but our energy conduits are acting up again.”

“… Oh.”

“Even the newest lines we put in. Been trying to keep everyone warm, but I don’t want to send anyone to Thomaskweld for spare parts.”

“Sure.”

“After Astrid’s visit, we’re already in Verne’s sights. Wouldn’t want to give her any ideas about us needing help, pushing our sacrifice deadline up.”

“Right.”

“I know things looks bad. But we’ll fix things on our own. Like always.”

As he spoke, Fi nodded like a bobblehead doll. She didn’t typically allow Boden to monologue this long without some puckered face or snide remark, but her focus drifted over his shoulder, her expression forced blank with thinly-veiled horror.

Antal perched in the bough of a shiverpine, watching with red eyes and tail swaying. Fi’s thoughts became a string of expletives. She’d let her guard down again, distracted by a tussle in the snow and a flutter in her stomach. Of course she’d thought of telling Boden.

What if he disapproved of her pact with Antal? What if she disappointed him again? What if—

“Fi-Fi?”

Boden spoke in a hush. He stared at her mouth.

Fi went cold at his keen focus, his dark eyes wide in alarm. A week of energy mending had healed the cut across her lips—mostly. The scar felt tight against her teeth. A thin silver line spread past her lipstick, visible upon scrutiny.

Boden was scrutinizing.

“It’s nothing,” she said, too quickly.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Fi.”

“An accident.”

“ Fi .” Her name cut deep, not the hardness of it, but Boden’s pleading undertone.

She itched for an out. Her easiest option would be evasion, getting rid of Boden before he noticed the beast poised in her trees. Lies leapt to her tongue, swift as survival instinct.

But he was her brother.

He was her brother, and he deserved so much better than her, and if this absurd alliance with a daeyari went anywhere, she’d have to tell Boden eventually. Fi loathed the quiver on her lips, that slip of dread she couldn’t hide.

“So. Boden. You know how we promised not to keep secrets from each other?”

Serious Fi made Boden look mildly panicked. Understandable.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We did.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Void have mercy, now she was the one asking dumb, stalling questions.

“Of course, Fi. What’s wrong?” He gripped her shoulders, gloved hands a calm and reassuring clamp, making Fi feel impossibly small.

In the tree, Antal stiffened.

“Don’t freak out,” Fi said. “I think there’s… someone you need to meet.”

Boden scowled. “ Someone I need to—”

A shadow flicked through the corner of her eye.

Boden shouted, tackled to the snow with a snarling daeyari atop him. Shit . Fi lurched into the fray, dodging the lashing tail, grabbing antlers before any teeth got involved.

“ Off! ” she ordered. “You useless beast, that’s not what I meant!”

Antal growled like a hawk mantling over prey. Beneath him, Boden sprawled in frozen horror.

At a yank from Fi, Antal released his quarry. Boden scuttled backward through the snow on hands and ass, wide eyes never leaving the daeyari, curses fogging his breath.

“ Fi? ” he demanded. As if he automatically assumed this was her fault. Granted, it was largely her fault, but she didn’t appreciate that ice pick of guilt.

Fi stood between them, hands raised to broker peace. She’d done this before, played intermediary between rival black marketeers, at least until one side could pay her. This was no different. She told herself it was no different .

“Boden. This is Antal, former Lord Daeyari of this territory.”

“ I’m aware .” Boden’s retort was half hysteria, half chiding older brother.

“Antal,” Fi continued. “This is Boden. Mayor of Nyskya.”

The daeyari stood stone still, glowering. “I’m aware.”

“My brother ,” she clarified, with a strong undertone of not to be eaten .

“Brother?” Antal looked slowly between them. Then, a scowl. A dramatic exhale. “Veshri’s teeth. Of course, stubbornness runs in the family…”

“ Fi ,” Boden said. “What the fuck is going on? What is that thing doing here? Why are you so calm?”

“No, no.” She waved a hand to silence him. “This is a conversation for indoors. Let’s go.”

By the time Fi pulled her panic-stricken brother to his feet, Antal was gone. Boden spun a circle, scouring the dusk-lit forest, but they were alone with trampled snow and dark pines. Static pricked her tongue. Once. Then again.

“Fi.” Each time he hissed her name, it grew more urgent.

“Shhh…” She pressed a hand to the back of his coat and steered him toward her cottage. “It’s a lot. I’m aware. Believe me, I am so aware.”

Maybe this was a horrible idea. Fi made her best and worst decisions under duress, with frustratingly little middle ground. She just had to avoid Boden’s eyes. That way, she couldn’t see how angry he was.

They kicked snow off their boots and stepped inside. A warm furnace greeted them, soft overhead lights and… of course Antal waited in the rafters. He crouched on a beam, tail coiled, watching like a panther.

Boden grabbed Fi’s arm, leaning in to whisper, “I’m not used to seeing one of them so… close.”

“ He is a person,” Fi said at full volume, “not a circus exhibit.” She tipped her glare up and her voice louder. “And he can act like a person by coming down and sitting properly.”

“ Kasek aza …” Antal grumbled.

Despite having demonstrated his ability to drop from heights on several occasions, he made a dramatic show of snapping out of sight then reappearing upon the sofa, cross-legged and rigid, tail swishing the fabric.

Fi’s stomach fluttered, stirred by the assertive tilt of his jaw.

Stop it. Focus.

She pulled out a chair from the kitchen table for Boden.

Without taking eyes off Antal, he sat, a stiff motion that she’d have preferred to end with him missing his target and tumbling ass to floor.

Drama queens, both of them. Not that she could blame Boden for keeping wary around a daeyari, but Antal’s bristle was…

Guarded. Distrustful. Far more than he had been with her this past week. His last attendants had turned on him, she supposed. Betrayal must hurt, even for immortals.

“All right, Fi.” Boden kept his glare on the daeyari. “I’m all ears.”

“Would you like some coffee first?” Fi asked.

“How long has he been here?”

“ I could use some coffee.” She pressed a hand to her temple, fighting a headache. “And liquor.” That probably wouldn’t help the headache.

“ Fi .”

“No coffee then. Fair.” Fi crossed her arms and slouched. She’d have preferred to collapse into a chair, but instead stood awkwardly between Boden and Antal, lest their glaring escalate. “After the explosion in Thomaskweld, I… met Antal.”

Antal huffed. A strong contender for today’s “not helping” award.

“His attendants tried to sacrifice me,” Fi clarified.

Boden nearly fell out of his chair.

“But Antal didn’t eat me. As you can see.” She gestured to her intact person. “Now, we’re going to get rid of Verne. Together.”

She looked to Antal for backup.

“Yes,” he said, unenthused. “That is, apparently, what we’re doing.”

Void stop her from slapping him, just to see what would happen.

Boden gawked at Fi. At Antal. Back to her. “So there’s a deposed daeyari lurking in the forest above my village? How long has he been here?”

“Off and on…” Fi muttered. “For a couple weeks.”

“ Weeks? Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I didn’t know what to tell you!”

“What about my people? Are they in danger?”