Page 42 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

At what cost?

Fi crouched beside Boden in a night-shrouded Winter forest, surveying the dark lines of Nyskya’s power center.

Not a towering factory like the ones in Thomaskweld.

The concrete walls were broken by a line of high windows, glowing silver.

The yard sparkled with fresh snow. Above the rustle of shiverpine needles, a hum infused the air, one central copper energy conduit striking out across the ground before splitting into the village.

A green aurora snapped overhead, glinting against the metal fixtures.

“I don’t see anyone.” Fi squinted into darkness, struggling to see anything .

“Should be empty at this hour,” Boden said, “but better be safe. We could wait for—”

“Are you two finished?” Antal said from his perch on a branch above. “Or do you want to loiter all night? The place is empty.”

Fi didn’t appreciate his dry tone. “What, as if you can see in the dark or…”

Antal’s glowing eyes peered down at her, an insufferable tilt to his brow.

“You know,” Boden said slowly, “that does make sense.”

They let Antal and his night vision—apparently—lead the way into the building. They’d paid the daeyari his meal. Now came his end of the bargain: repairing the village’s faulty conduits. Sabotaged conduits, according to Cardigan.

Inside, Boden confirmed the admin office was empty before beckoning the others forward. “Nothing that will draw too much attention. We don’t want—”

“Don’t worry, Mayor Kolbeck.” Antal strode past him, tone flat. “The people of my city are no more accustomed to my presence. I’m used to avoiding notice.”

The hall opened into a large room of non-conductive stone, windows catching starlight two stories overhead.

A brighter glow came from four towering glass tanks, stores of energy built up during working hours, three filled high with wisping silver, another brimming crimson.

The fruits of Fi’s first donation of daeyari energy chips.

Plenty of energy. Distribution was the problem.

“We’ve got conduits acting up all over town,” Boden said. “But might as well start with the main culprit.”

Antal circled the transformer like a vulture appraising carrion.

Copper plates formed the body of the construct, framed in aluminum piping and glass channels to view the energy movement.

Conduits of copper alloy fed from the storage tanks into the transformer, then out the building into the village.

Antal’s claws clacked over a dormant channel.

Red energy danced from his fingertips, following a conduit a few feet before sputtering out. He scowled.

“Your equipment is alarmingly outdated,” Antal said.

Boden huffed. “We’ve made do with what we can get our hands on.”

“I could have helped. If you’d only asked.”

“At what cost, daeyari?”

They held a brief staring contest. To Fi’s surprise, Antal conceded, returning his gaze to the conduits with a tail flick. “I’ll do what I can.”

He pried open an access panel, claws nimble amidst conduit wires, snaps of red energy sparking ozone on the air.

A welcome change. The normal smells of metal and lubricant reminded Fi too much of the smithy where their father had worked, the odors that clung to his jacket when he sank into his chair each night.

Metal shrieked as Antal ripped a section of conduit from its fittings. Boden’s cry of protest came out equally shrill.

“Careful with that!” Boden said. “If another channel goes out, we’ll have people bunking in the general store.”

Antal studied the mess of metal. “I can reroute the current past the faulty parts. A temporary fix.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”

“These conduits are a daeyari invention.”

“It’s delicate technology.”

“It’s simple technology. Do you have any replacement copper alloy? Ones that didn’t come from Cardigan?”

Boden grumbled over to a supply shelf and returned with a box of copper wiring. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed Antal’s slip of words.

Fi did.

Simple technology. Energy conduits were a gift from the daeyari, one of the biggest bartering chips offered in exchange for sacrifices. But daeyari were liars. They twisted stories and stoked fear. What else had they been keeping from humans?

Antal caught her eye with face guarded, a flick of his tail before returning to work. Fi had to step carefully around this beast. He could be as conniving as every other daeyari, playing on her sympathy to get his territory back.

But Fi wanted to believe he’d do the right thing. What a wretched, dangerous whim.

“How’s your new roommate treating you?” Boden joined Fi, voice low beneath the scrape of tinkering metal.

He didn’t approve of Antal staying with her. That much dripped from his tone. Fi had been apprehensive herself, inviting a carnivorous creature into her cottage.

“Well.” She poked her stomach. “I haven’t woken up to any missing organs. That’s nice.”

Boden glared.

“ Kidding ,” Fi said. “He’s not so bad. Keeps to himself. Doesn’t leave dirty dishes in the sink. The teeth are really the only downside.” And those were becoming less of a downside, the more time Fi spent with him. She doubted Boden would relate with her thinking on that one.

Boden sighed. The older he grew, the more exhaustion weighed his shoulders, a foreseeable side effect of too much responsibility.

Fi missed lighthearted Bodie, the man who’d declared impromptu snowball fights and snuck chocolates into her room when she got grounded for sneaking out in the middle of the night with Astrid.

“How are you handling all this?” Fi asked.

“My first responsibility is to Nyskya. I won’t drag anyone into this against their will.” The reply came premeditated, measured by a couple of nights’ consideration since they’d returned from Cardigan’s villa.

“Sure,” Fi said. “But if it means keeping their homes safe? You might find more people willing to stand against Verne than you expect. Kashvi would probably go on a one-woman rampage without much prompting.”

“Kashvi would rather put a crossbow bolt through a daeyari than work with one.”

“Maybe we can change her mind. Could use a sharp-shooter.”

Boden ran a hand through frizzed hair. “I’ll speak with my advisory council. See what they think of all this.”

“Soon, Bodie.”

“I know. I will. But… are you sure you want to be a part of that?”

She bristled. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair again. Too obvious a tell. Growing a beard had only given Boden more outlet to betray his unease, fingers scratching the scruff.

“If you don’t want to be tangled up in this anymore,” he said. “I understand. I can take over from here.”

Another downside of older Boden: his ability to shift from sweet to infuriating.

“Why?” Fi demanded. She knew why. She always knew why.

“It’s a lot to deal with,” he deflected.

“You think I’m not responsible enough?”

“That’s not true at all, Fi.”

“Then why ?”

Her tone was a dagger, sharp but stealthy, not distracting Antal from his conduit wires.

Boden sharpened to parry her. “You have history with this shit. With daeyari.”

“We both have history.”

“You have more history. I don’t want you to feel… overwhelmed.”

“I’ve grown past that.”

“You weren’t past it when I found you seven years ago, running away from every Void-damned thing you could glance at. You aren’t past it now.”

There it was. Even when Fi saw it coming, even wrapped in every defensive bristle, she winced at the hurt they always danced around, the truth Boden could never just come out and tell her.

She’d run away. She’d left him to deal with their father. He knew what a coward she’d always been, the guilt she’d spent a decade trying to bury.

“I’m fine now.” The lie cut her teeth.

Boden gave her that condescending sigh he ought to have patented at the Thomaskweld trade office. “That’s bullshit, Fi. I saw how spooked you were when you got back from Thomaskweld—I understand why , now. But you refused to tell me then.”

“I didn’t want you to worry—”

“So you took it all on yourself?” He huffed, exasperated. “You don’t have to act like nothing on the Planes can shake you. You don’t have to always pretend like—”

A tiny gasp cut him off.

What an odd sound. Too meek to have come from Boden. Not from Fi, obviously. At the transfer hub, Antal stood silent, eyes wide at…

A little girl stood in the doorway, gloved hands tight on the frame, shielded by the wall so only one startled eye and a poof of black hair were visible.

She stared at the daeyari like a nightmare come to life.

“Anisa?” Boden hurried to her.

“Mayor Boden.” The girl shrank, brown cheeks nearly disappearing in the fur ruff of her coat. “Why’s there a monster here? Daddy says monsters aren’t allowed in Nyskya.”

What was she doing here? This late, the building should have been empty of workers, much less a child. Antal hadn’t moved, his tail swaying an uncertain arc, as if he had no idea what to do with this tiny, defenseless creature staring at him in such terror. Fair. Fi wasn’t great with kids, either.

So why wasn’t he gone ? Vanished like a bad nightmare. His eyes snapped higher, staring down the hall at—

“Anisa.” Boden crouched in front of the girl, his tone forced levity. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“Daddy forgot some papers. He brought me with him.”

“You came with Savo? Where—”

“Anisa!”

The shout came from the hall. A man followed, wire-built and dark-skinned, spectacles askew against a knitted hat. Savo. The power foreman. Fresh snow dusted his jacket, sprinkling the floor as he grabbed his daughter and pulled her safe behind him.

Savo didn’t look at the daeyari like an apparition. His gaze hardened on Antal like a wolf caught prowling a henhouse.

“ Boden? ” Savo demanded. His eyes never left the daeyari.

Boden raised placating hands. “Everything’s fine, Savo.”

“What is that creature doing here, Boden?”

“He’s here at my invitation. Fixing our energy conduits.”

“ Fixing them?” Savo pulled Anisa against his leg. “At what cost?”

Antal flinched at the repeated line. At how this man shielded his daughter, fingers clutched in the puff of her coat while she peeked around him with doe-like eyes.

“ Unfair. To both of us ,” Antal had told Fi some time ago.

Savo had every right to distrust this man-eating creature, but Antal had never taken children as sacrifices.

“Nyskya is safe,” Boden said. “I would never risk our people, you know that.”

“At no cost,” Fi added.

Savo gave her a more guarded look than he offered Boden, lines dug deep into his snow-leathered skin. He wore that conflict often for her—gratitude for the energy chips she brought to Nyskya, hesitance over how she acquired them.

“Didn’t know you were back in town, Fi. And there’s always a cost.”

Fi shot Antal a scowl of, “ say something, or I’ll file your antlers off while you sleep .”

“It’s as they say.” Antal stepped closer, then thought better of it when Savo stiffened. “Your hospitality has been payment enough. I’ll repair your machinery here, and whatever conduits are faulty in the village.”

Savo’s brow creased deeper. As if hearing this creature speak eliminated some fleeting hope of it being a hallucination. How could Antal expect anything else? Daeyari kindness never came without a price.

Fi had always believed that. Until she met him.

She’d always believed immortals had no care for the flitting emotions of prey. But now, a scowl tugged Antal’s lips, his tail low at his ankles. He was upset. Guilty, that his own people saw him this way?

Be it empathy. Be it the hustler in her blood always searching for weakness. Fi saw their plan gaining speed. Savo’s intrusion was unexpected, but she could work with this.

“You’d bring a daeyari to Nyskya?” Savo said, hushed now. “Sneak around in the night? That’s not like you, Boden. Not like you at all.”

Boden hesitated. “I didn’t want—”

“We had to make sure the daeyari was good to his word,” Fi interjected, before Boden could spin some diplomatic diversion.

They couldn’t wait, couldn’t drown in what-ifs.

“What comes next, the whole village should have a say in. Which is why both of us are calling the advisory council together, to discuss what Antal can offer.”

Fi’s look dared Boden to challenge her. She wasn’t going anywhere . Not this time.

His displeasure passed as a twitch of the mouth.

But he couldn’t argue with the corner they’d been backed into.

Mayor Boden stood tall to address Savo. “It’s late, my friend, and for that I apologize.

But Fi’s right. This shouldn’t wait. Notify the rest of the council.

We’ll meet in Kashvi’s tavern in an hour. ”