“Fi,” Kashvi warned.
“You could give him a chance.”
“He doesn’t deserve a chance.”
On Fi’s other side, Boden shot a discouraging look.Drop it, his weary eyes pleaded. Kashvi was in a rare good mood.
“You don’t have to like him,” Fi said, heeding neither of them. “But Antal helped us get metal for weapons. He repaired most of the village’s conduits. He’s held up his end of the deal.”
“So he can get his territory back,” Kashvi said.
“He cares about more than that.”
“You think you know what he wants? An immortal who’s ruled this territory longer than you’ve been alive? Who’s been eating people since before our great grandparents were alive?”
The things Kashvi claimed might be true, but Antal was more than that. He laughed at Fi’s taunts and got that annoyed twitch to his tail when she pushed the upper hand. He closed his eyes when music played to let the melody carry him away.He insisted on sleeping in her rafters out of stubbornness alone, she was fairly certain. All such normal things.
And when he said he wanted to make things better—thathewanted to be better—Fi wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe there’d be a brighter end to this than returning to the way things were before.
“We want things to change,” Fi said. “So does he.”
“Why would he?” Kashvi shot back. “He was the one in power. He could have stopped taking sacrifices before now, regardless of what he claims about ‘rules’ for daeyari.”
Also true. Void have mercy, Kashvi could be stubborn.
“He has to eat something,” Fi said.
“Mysister.” Kashvi slammed her cup. “How would you feel if it was Boden?”
Fi stiffened. Across the table, Boden monitored their spat in silence, but Kashvi’s low blow earned her a scowl of disapproval. What would Fi do if she never got to make fun of that furrowed brow again? Never got to hear that laugh that had grown from a nasal wheeze to a deep-chested bellow, as familiar as wind through the shiverpines?
“I’m not saying what Antal did was right,” Fi said.
“What, then?” Kashvi pressed.
Fi assembled her arguments: they needed to move on, they needed allies, they needed Kashvi to not be so Void-damned stubborn.
But none of that was enough, was it? Deflecting, pretending Kashvi’s hurt wasn’t there, would only make it fester. Just like with Astrid. Amends never made, allowed to grow into this fetid wound between them. Running was easier. Arguing was easier.
Here was a place to start moving forward. One simple enough for Fi to stomach.
“I’d be angry,” Fi agreed. “If I were in your place, I’d hate Antal and all his kind. You’re right to feel that way, Kashvi.” She leaned forward, resisting the jab at Kashvi’s stunned look, keeping her voice level. “But what are we going to do about it? You could scream at him, put a bolt through his head, and we’d still be exactly where we were before.Or. We can tell him he was wrong, make him do something about it. Stop other sisters from being lost.”
Kashvi didn’t answer right away. The purse of her lips suggested Fi had finally said something right.
Boden’s smug-ass grin, maybe she could live without.
“Listen to this,” he said. “Fi’s sounding like a diplomat at last.”
Fi scoffed through a chug of wine. “I’m no diplomat. I just think we ought to treat our immortal partner more like a partner, less like a stray dog left outside.”
“Sounds diplomatic to me,” Boden said. “My little Fi-Fi, finally growing up.”
Fi looked for something to throw at him, but tragically, she found nothing within reach except her wine and her cookies. Neither was worth sacrificing.
Kashvi slumped in her chair.
“Come on, Kashvi,” Fi said. “What’s the worst that could happen? Antal proves you right, and you get to rub it in my face?” She would. Fi had no doubt of that.
