14 Broken Legacy #3
“Now there’s another one on the Season-Locked Planes. As close as it gets.”
Syvr nodded grimly. “These aedari scouts are getting better at pushing through. All those derived daeyari that have been shoved into the Contested Planes, not enough of a deterrent.”
Antal had been away too long, to be ignorant to all this. “What’s Avroz planning?”
“Hear for yourself.”
Through the debate, Avroz sat calm upon his pillow. One finger raised.
“Avroz,” Qirza announced. “Speak next.”
He stood. The iridescent fabric of his cape glistened as he surveyed his fellow councilors, assuring he had rapt attention. He addressed Qirza.
“We are, all of us, concerned,” Avroz said, voice carrying easily across the amphitheater. “No aedari has ever been spotted this close to the Twilit Plane. Our actions must be decisive.”
Qirza’s tail swayed as she listened. “What do you propose?”
“This aedari scout must be found. And killed. It must not find the Twilit Plane. Nor can it be allowed to return to its brethren with whatever knowledge it has gathered.”
Agreement murmured around the circle—spread like fire through the gallery above. Qirza silenced them with a hand.
“First we must find it,” she said.
“Then I volunteer to lead a hunt.” Avroz bowed his head. “If the council agrees. A small pack will be the most efficient, less likely to alert the aedari that we’ve caught its trail.”
Antal chilled anew. An aedari hunt, so close? Unease rippled through the council floor, but the golden bands on Avroz’s antlers would quell opposition. Only five other councilors wore them, Qirza included. Almost nonexistent among the observer tiers.
“We’ll vote on your proposal,” Qirza said. “Those in opposition?”
She surveyed her peers. No hands rose.
“And those in support?”
Most hands rose swiftly. A few, with resignation. Qirza’s last.
“It’s decided,” she announced. “Councilor Avroz will lead the hunt. All territories will cooperate and lend aid as requested. Any additional information will be brought to the Daey Celva immediately.” Her sharp gaze fell on Avroz. “Bring us another aedari head, Sunsplitter.”
He bowed, touching the highest tip of an antler. “It will be my honor.”
The gallery thundered to life as Qirza dismissed the meeting, several hundred voices vying with speculation about aedari movements, the coming hunt. Syvr leaned back, pensive.
“Well,” they said. “Looks like I’m about to be busy.”
Antal clenched his teeth. Syvr was no warrior, wouldn’t be forced into combat with an aedari. A dangerous mission regardless.
With business adjourned, static strummed Antal’s tongue, all the local attendees teleporting away. Visitors from other Planes filed toward the exit Curtains on the outer patio. Syvr joined Antal as he moved to an alcove along the cliff, waiting for the crowd to thin.
“It is good to see you again, Antal.”
“You as well, Syvr. I wish you swift hunting.” Antal kept his tone flat. A mask of indifference, his only tool to survive this place.
Syvr’s grin fell. They looked at Antal with sudden solemnity, as if… no. Antal couldn’t expect concern from any daeyari here, not even—
“I mean it, Antal. I know it’s been too long. But…”
The tip of Syvr’s tail brushed Antal’s. Tentative. As achingly familiar as when his mother had done it, a comfort Antal shouldn’t want.
“You look better.” Syvr grinned, small like a secret between them.
“Better how?” Antal returned warily.
“Your eyes are brighter. You’re standing straighter. I want to hear all about the Winter Plane. If the esteemed Lord Daeyari can spare his time?”
Again, Syvr sounded genuine. Again, Antal couldn’t decide if he’d be better off ripping out his own heart, just to save everyone here the hassle.
They both snapped alert, at Avroz’s voice.
He emerged into the observer gallery, magnanimous in his grin and vesper fabric cloak. A swarm of daeyari crowded the councilor with greetings and well-wishes, but he acknowledged each with elegant brevity, his path never wavering.
“Syvr,” Avroz greeted. “And Antal. What a delight to see you here, yzir virso.”
Antal didn’t think Fionamara was wrong in musing about cutting off antlers. He simply couldn’t fathom how to accomplish it.
“I didn’t realize I was allowed to come,” Antal growled.
“Don’t be ridiculous. All daeyari are invited to observe the council.”
Syvr’s glance flitted from father to son, dissecting the tension with a scalpel.
“And we are humbled,” Avroz continued, “to have so many territory lords in attendance. Your cooperation will be essential to ending this business swiftly. Perhaps, if you could spare your time, we might discuss how the Winter Plane can contribute?”
Before Antal could spit his reply, a snarl sounded from the crowd.
“What in Veshri’s teeth are you doing here?”
Antal tensed at the familiar voice. That smell of ice and pine, too drowned by other scents for him to notice until too late, the sneering daeyari already pushing toward them.
Tyvo. Antal’s sole remaining neighbor from the Winter Plane.
Still missing the antler Fionamara had cut off him.