Their friendship began as dares to race each other across icy riverbanks. Next, competitions for who could snatch a hair from a heath boar, a game that ended with nine stitches in Fi’s arm. Then Fi discovered how to step through Curtains. Astrid wasthe first person she’d dragged with her, holding hands as they’d stared into the Void.
Astrid’s face had changed since then. The hardness seemed foreign, yet fitting for the svelte animal she’d become, the way she’d sculpted muscle and poise onto what once were spindly young limbs.
Fi wasn’t sure if she was glad to see her.
“Why are you here?” Here in Thomaskweld. Here in Fi’s room.Anythingto loosen these thorns choking her since Astrid snapped back into her life in a hotel lobby.
Astrid’s grin hardened. “Making sure you don’t get cold feet.”
The cut sank deep, the work of a familiar blade. Fi hadn’t seen Astrid since she ran away from home.
Not since Astrid pledged herself to Verne, the daeyari who ruled their home territory. To become an Arbiter was an honor without equal, the personal hand of an immortal, a position above even the territory’s governor. And the boon to their families? For as long as an Arbiter served, a daeyari ordered no sacrifices from their town. With vavriter lifespans ranging well over two hundred years, Astrid had gifted a blessing to their entire community.
The weight of it hung over her like a death shroud. Moonlight caught silver lines on her arms, scars she hadn’t worn ten years ago.
“Arbiter life is treating you well?” Fi said, dry.
Astrid shrugged. “Well enough.”
That explained where the daeyari energy chips came from, though Astrid’s involvement in this heist raised more questions. Why she’d enlist Fi raised even more.
“This isn’t your daeyari’s territory,” Fi said. “So why are you here?”
“Errands.”
“Stealing a vase?”
“A classic, I’m told.”
“In another daeyari’s capital?”
“Which is why my presence is best kept discreet.” Astrid spoke with the edge of a razor, but this tipped her mouth to a smirk. “So many questions, Fi. I thought you didn’t care about politics?” Her voice lowered. “So content with your carts and contra-band.”
Fi scoffed. “Seems I’ve been roped into some politics. By one particular person.”
“You’re upset I have faith in your abilities? Whatever your faults, youaregood at what you do.”
What was this? A dance? A sparring match? Ten years. How had so much changed inten years? Once, Fi could weigh the slant of Astrid’s smirk and spot any lie, any scheme, any jest that would leave them giggling like idiots.
“Of course…” Astrid traced a finger along the dresser. “If you’re interested in doingmore, you only have to ask. It’s never too late.”
The proposition soured Fi’s stomach. “I won’t work for a daeyari.”
Especially not a daeyari like Verne. Fi and Boden fled to Antal Territory to escape the sight of screaming criminals dragged before the hungry beast who ruled them. Of cold familiesbeggingfor aid with sacrifices they couldn’t afford.
Was that the source of this new hardness in Astrid’s eyes? The vavriter’s fingers ceased caressing the dresser and clamped the edge, no claws like her ancestors. Equally fierce.
“Sometimes, Fi,” she said, too quiet. “You do what you have to. The daeyari are the closest things to gods these Shattered Planes will ever see. They offer power to people like us.”
“Theyeatpeople like us.” People like Fi, at least. Daeyaricould eat vavriter, but seemed to prefer not to, some deference for fellow antlers.
“Stubborn as ever.” Astrid scowled. “I suppose we’re finished, then.”
She rose off the dresser like a cat uncoiling. Fi frowned at the curt dismissal, anger sticking to her ribs as Astrid moved toward the door.
Then, a sharper surge of panic.
The shot of adrenaline pushed Fi to her feet, some slurry of frustration, and guilt, and… not yet. She couldn’t watch Astrid walk away again.
