Page 63 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

So he claimed. Time to test it. For the second time that day, Fi pulled away from arms she didn’t want to leave.

She backtracked, quiet steps and a circuitous route to not betray Antal’s position, boots heavy with a too-familiar weight.

Here came the same spike of fear as when she’d marched to Verne’s shrine.

The same numbing dread as when she’d been dragged to Antal.

Once again, she set her path toward a daeyari. This time, hopefully, not as prey.

The square opened ahead. Fi kept her steps even, pulling on her cloak of barbs to keep her spine straight.

She drew courage from muffled footsteps beyond the street, Nyskya quietly rousing.

She imagined Boden and Kashvi, hurrying through back alleys after they’d parted ways at the training field, warning villagers of the threat on their doorsteps.

She imagined Antal, watching from the shadows.

This time, she wouldn’t run. This time, she wasn’t alone.

Her silviamesh bodysuit would have been nice. She’d passed on armor that morning, not anticipating she’d need it. Snowy boots and a frayed fur coat made for a less intimidating ensemble than she’d have liked.

The Beast noticed her first.

Fi had no sooner stepped beyond the shadow of a building than pupil-less red eyes latched onto her, the swivel of a skeletal maw with too-tight skin and too many teeth, a long and lashing tail. Claws dug into frozen soil. The Beast growled low enough to tremble permafrost.

But it was the snap of Astrid’s ruby-cut gaze that shuddered down Fi’s spine. She held out a hand, silencing the Beast at her side.

“Well,” Astrid said. “It’s about time.”

“Astrid,” Fi greeted.

“Fi,” came the venom-laced return.

Astrid. A wild creature, Fi’s father had called her. Always the first to shoot when the elk hunt came into season. Always the first to dare a kiss with wine-sweet lips. Always the first to laugh as if the Void itself couldn’t swallow her swagger.

Always the first to bury her doubts so deep, no one could see them.

Was that girl Fi used to know still there beneath the ice? That friend who’d held her hand when the nights dragged endless, only the stars to keep their secrets? Fi took the largest breath of her life and planted her feet, unflinching beneath two red glares.

“You wanted to see me?” She spread her arms, all smiles and false bravado. “Here I am.”

Astrid looked her up and down, a twist on her lips, crossbow propped on her shoulder. “I’m surprised.”

“That you found me?”

“That you’re brave enough to show yourself. Well done on finally growing a spine, Fi. Only took you ten years.”

Always a honed blade, the edge cut perfectly to the curve of Fi’s heart.

A few houses away, a door slammed. A dog barked, swiftly silenced.

“This doesn’t have to happen here,” Fi said. “You’ve found me. Bravo. I’ll listen to you gloat all you like— outside of Nyskya. Where no one else has to get involved.”

Astrid didn’t budge. The Beast paced behind her, claws like sickles sowing snow.

“You’re the one who brought us here, Fi. And after my last visit? Verne told me to disregard this place, that you couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to stay here.” Astrid smiled too wide, no fangs like her daeyari ancestors, but just as vicious. “I guess I know you better.”

Fi’s hands curled into fists, frost-chilled tips and palms burning with energy. She’d left Astrid behind ten years ago, a coward’s betrayal she could never take back.

But Astrid had betrayed her trust in Thomaskweld. Attacked her at Verne’s chateau. Brought a Beast here to threaten dozens of innocent lives.

“No,” Fi said. “I don’t think we know each other very well anymore.”

“Harsh.” Astrid laughed once, a puff of mist on the air. “Where’s Antal?”

“Who?”

“ Fi .”

“Oh. Him.” Bluffing was Fi’s only defense, the only way to stop herself from screaming why why why are you doing this at Astrid until her throat turned raw. “Who can say? I’m sure you know how daeyari are. So hard to pin down and—”

The Beast snarled her to silence.

It crouched on all fours, muscles taut, tail swishing the same way Antal’s did when he saw something to pounce on. Its eyes weren’t as focused, pupil-less irises hazed with hunger and molten energy, yet the way it stared…

Fuck. Did it… understand her?

“We’re not playing this game.” Astrid’s words snapped Fi back to focus, snapped her heart back onto a string. “I know Antal’s here. My friend smells him. So you can either tell me where he is, or we can go hunting.”

Fi needed more time. Footsteps crunched snow in a nearby alley. More people. Too close.

“Leave Nyskya alone,” she said. “Then I’ll tell you where Antal is.”

“So you can walk me into his teeth? No, Fi. I think you’re better persuaded right here.” Astrid pressed her hand to the Beast’s muzzle, silencing it once again.

And readied her crossbow.

“Where’s the daeyari?” Cold metal glinted in Astrid’s hands.

Only to intimidate. The same show of bravado Fi was putting on.

But Astrid hadn’t struck lethal on the train. She wouldn’t shoot now.

“You’re better than this, Astrid.”

The crossbow settled in her grip, a musical note of clicking gears beneath skilled fingers. “Why rope these people in with you, Fi?” Astrid’s voice rose. “Why get involved in this at all?”

“Some things are worth standing ground for.”

“But I wasn’t ?”

Ten years of cold snapped between them. Fi pictured Astrid returning from Verne’s shrine alone. How still she must have fallen when she found Fi’s room empty.

“You could have run,” Fi whispered. Then louder, “You didn’t have to stay, Astrid. You could have run, like me!”

“Someone had to stay behind. To protect our home when you abandoned us!”

Astrid raised the crossbow. Fi in the sights. A flash of maroon sparked her fingertips, an energy bolt Shaped onto the track.

The weapon trembled in Astrid’s choking grasp.

She wouldn’t shoot. Fi knew she wouldn’t shoot.

“This isn’t about what I did,” Fi said. “This isn’t about our fucking home. How can you use any of that to justify fighting at Verne’s side?”

“You’re helping a daeyari, too.”

“One who wants to change things! To be better than Verne!”

Astrid gritted her teeth, fingers like claws on the crossbow stock—a flash of fury in her eyes. “Is that what’s he told you? Don’t be ridiculous. All daeyari are the same. All daeyari rule the same.” She squared her stance, stock braced to her shoulder.

She wouldn’t shoot.

“You’re wrong,” Fi shouted back. “About him. About me . I’m not that person anymore, Astrid. I’m not running!”

“Neither am I, Fionamara!”

She wouldn’t…

Fi flinched at the click.

At the flash of an energy bolt flying across the square.