Petra turned, her thoughts pushed back into the far recesses of her most delightful fantasies. Finnyr stood just inside the still-swaying curtain. Petra tried to remember the last time she’d seen her brother as she assessed him.
He was still small; his time at House Rok had put no might on his bones. It was further affirmation that nothing about Rok or Lysip was inherently mighty. Petra had narrower hips and shoulders than her brother, but her muscle held twice the raw power and her magic was overwhelming in comparison.
Finnyr, her pale-skinned brother with his tarnished hair. The child of House Xin that should never have been born.
“Come, Finnyr.” She smiled, displaying her canines, and motioned for the spot next to her. “It has been some time since we last spoke face to face.”
“It has.” He obeyed, standing in the spot she selected for him.
“You appear to be well. Has House Rok treated you properly?”
He snorted. “As well as can be expected from House Rok.”
That was an acceptable answer. “And the Dono?”
“He gives me no cause for complaint.”
“Unfortunately,” Petra lamented. She would always stand with her House first, but there would be something quite convenient about Yveun abusing her brother, giving her enough cause to challenge the Dono outright.
“He has never harvested any of my parts.”
Petra folded her hands in front of her abdomen to keep her claws from unsheathing. Finnyr was familiar enough with the motion that he visibly tensed, realizing what he’d done. Petra took a half step away from the ledge, toward Finnyr’s back.
“Brother, who is the Xin’Oji?”
“You are.”
“And what House do you belong to?”
“House Xin.”
“Therefore, what must you never do?”
Finnyr sighed heavily. “Petra, I was not questioning your decision, I was merely stating—”
Petra’s arm shot out without even half a thought behind it. Her claws extended beyond her fingertips like magic daggers. They hovered at the edge of his throat.
“Finnyr, your very existence happens at my allowance,” she growled. “You are not to think, you are not to hesitate. It was these traits by which you lost your place as the rightful heir to House Xin. Have some shame and work to make yourself useful.”
She wanted to love him. She wanted to embrace her brother as a fellow warrior. If he had been strong, the responsibility of Xin would’ve never fallen to her. Not that she’d minded, of course. But he was an embarrassment of a brother and had been the shame of their mother and father. His weakness continued to be a blemish on the opinion of their House from the rest of Nova. Unlike Cvareh, it was not a calculated play. Finnyr was truly inept.
Fear colored his magic, even if he didn’t let it show on his face. Petra kept her claws at his throat.
“Now, tell me of the Dono.” Anger singed the edges of her consciousness.
“I know nothing more than I’ve told you before.”
“You didn’t know of the new Master Rider?” Petra scowled.
“I did, but—”
“You did not think to inform me?”
“I did not think it was of note.” Finnyr held up his hands, showing that his claws were still not out despite Petra’s being at his throat. “You must have assumed, with Leona’s death, that the Dono would find a new Master Rider. And with all the other Dragons that perished hunting Cvareh on Loom, the Dono didn’t have many choices. Lossom was no one of importance, and a Dragon without much experience.”
Petra took her time reasoning through this. The logic stood. If shehadcommitted a moment’s thought to it, she likely could’ve reached the same conclusion herself. She eased her hand away from Finnyr’s throat.
“Now, sister,youdid not tellmeyou had such a fierce fighter you were training up within House Xin.” Finnyr spoke lightly, as though she hadn’t just threatened his life. All was forgiven to the Oji of the House when the Oji had only acted in the best interest of the Dragons whom she sought to protect.
