When she didn’t, he said, “Daeyari Shaping is poor at healing mortals. But I can…”
Crimson energy glowed at his fingertips. It skated Fi’s skin, not penetrating but pulling, gathering shards of red energy that lingered in the burn like splinters.
“I’m sorry, Fionamara,” he said lowly. “I didn’t realize what you’ve been through.”
He released her. Fi inspected her hand with a scowl, poking at tender flesh. The burns didn’t vanish. The stinging did, replaced by a milder ache.
So soft, when he wanted to be. Soft, as he lounged in her rafters. Soft, when he spoke her name. Soft, despite every barb she threw at him, even their worst snarls leading them back to this moment of unfathomable quiet.
Fi’s anger didn’t disappear. She only redirected it. Focused it.
He wanted to do the right thing.
“Will you change?” she said. “If we get your territory back?”
His tail brushed the flagstones. “I’ll try, Fionamara.”
“Swear it.”
“I—”
“Swear it on that wretched god of yours.”
“He’s not a—”
“Do it.”
Antal sucked a breath through his teeth. “I swear I’ll do better. On Veshri’s teeth and watchful eyes, on the path of the First Void Weaver. May my antlers grow crooked in the next life if I don’t.”
The oath turned out funnier than she’d expected. Fi would have to remember that one.
For now, movement caught her eye. Boden poked his head into the courtyard.
“Are you all right?” he called. “I heard raised voices and…” He blanched at the butchered corpse.
Fi met him on commanding strides. “Mayor Boden of Nyskya! I have a new proposal.”
“Oh no,” Boden muttered. “Fi, can this wait until—”
“Verne has sabotaged your energy conduits. She demands a sacrifice. We need to stop her.” Fi turned to Antal. “You can’t take down Verne and Astrid and her Beast on your own. The two of us probably won’t be enough. You aren’t getting help from Tyvo, or your family, or any other daeyari. We need help.Humanhelp.”
Boden listened with an expression that said either “you’re onto something brilliant” or “I cannot fathom why you thought those words were acceptable to come out of your mouth.” She had trouble telling those two faces apart.
He understood, though. “I can’t order Nyskya to fight for him, Fi.”
“Then ask,” she said. “Give them a choice. It’s the only way we’ll win this.”
Boden gnawed his lip, not an outright refusal.
It was Antal who looked dubious. He didn’t scoff when Fi faced him. Didn’t jeer at the naïve plan. His tail fell low enough to brush the floor again.
“Why would they fight for me?” he asked. “Why risk their lives for a daeyari?”
“Because you’re going to promise them something different,” Fi said. “You’re going to do the right thing, Antal.”
Part Three
The woman wandered through the trees,
