16 Negotiations #2
“You think it was easy for me to send you away?” There came that flicker again, an edge of vulnerability Avroz never showed.
“You think it was easy to do nothing when Verne came before the council to flaunt her victory? She sought me out after the meeting, to express her personal apology.” He huffed.
“Short-sighted wretch. She didn’t know where you were, was surprised to learn you hadn’t come home already. I knew you must be planning something.”
Not the story he’d told before. A lie? An omission? Antal’s foot skimmed the edge of the balcony, teetering.
“You left me on my own,” he snarled.
“I trusted you. To be as strong as I knew you could be. Now here you are.”
Antal fell still as a startled hare when Avroz reached for him. He could scarcely breathe, as his father’s claws brushed gently through his hair, following the curve of his antlers.
“Yme was right,” Avroz said, impossibly soft. “They’re growing in well.”
Antal clamped his teeth so hard, he feared his canines might chip.
Avroz didn’t care. He wasn’t soft. He’d ripped Razik’s throat open and let him bleed out on the floor. Antal hated this closeness, this intimate touch.
He hated the longing it sparked in him, a tenderness he’d been denied so long.
Those memories were distant, the feeling of his father’s hand ruffling his hair, the pride in Avroz’s voice.
Antal thought that ache had crumbled to ash, the na?ve hope that somehow, things could be right between them again.
He jerked away from his father’s touch.
“What do you want?” Antal’s voice shook, a slip of weakness.
Avroz held steady. “I want something?”
“You always want something. You want me here. To take the vacant seat on the Daey Celva, before you leave for your Pilgrimage.”
Avroz’s eyes went subtly wider. Genuine surprise, followed by a low, “Oh. You have gotten more clever.”
Antal didn’t want to be right. “A waste of time. You heard Tyvo. I’m not fit to be here.”
“You bested Verne. You caused quite a stir, put your name on several tongues.”
“I killed her.” A taboo among even rival daeyari, their deaths cursed by reincarnation into mindless beasts.
“She gave you no choice,” Avroz said, the same matter-of-fact tone he must have used to spin the story to his peers. “Many were impressed that you managed it.”
“And what will they say of me bedding humans?”
At that, Avroz paused. There came his usual edge, face tight in disapproval. “All council members have their… indiscretions. Keep your pet. So long as you distinguish yourself otherwise, no one will care.”
A pet. Antal’s fangs ached from clamping. “Distinguish myself? How?”
“Come with me.” Avroz stepped closer. Spoke low. “Help me hunt this aedari, earn your bands. The council has never refused membership to a Sunsplitter.”
If Antal had a functioning heart, it would have stopped. He scoured Avroz for any hint of this, obviously, very bad joke. Some tasteless taunt at Antal’s expense.
“You want me to hunt an aedari?” Antal laughed. How could he not? From fifty years of neglect, straight into this bullshit?
“The timing is perfect,” Avroz said.
The timing? Antal went Void cold, as the pieces clicked together.
“Yme said you’ve been in urgent meetings for two weeks,” Antal accused. “The council has known about this aedari? For weeks?”
“Claims of aedari sightings aren’t unheard of,” Avroz said. Perfectly level. “We needed time to verify them.”
And in that time, he’d used his insider knowledge, had summoned Antal home to ensure he was in place when the information went public. The question of “why now?” finally answered: Avroz, always an opportunist, seizing this moment to force Antal back on track.
“I’m afraid I’m busy,” Antal said. “I have a territory to run.”
“That was never permanent, Antal. Territory governance is a dead end.”
“Not to me.” Antal turned to leave.
“It will be,” Avroz called after him. “When the council finds out what you’re doing.”
Antal froze with half his thoughts turned toward the teleport, the image of home so tauntingly close. Wary, he looked back at Avroz. “Meaning?”
His father gave him a long, disapproving look.
“Corpses, Antal?”
Ice jolted down Antal’s spine. Energy, writhing hot in his chest. Avroz knew.
Of course he knew, always one step ahead no matter how much Antal clawed and maneuvered. Had Yme told him? No, they’d spoken too recently. She’d warned Antal against discovery, not threatened to reveal his secrets.
“Syvr?” Antal asked, betrayal bitter on his tongue.
Avroz hummed. “Oddly, Syvr was always otherwise occupied when I asked them to check on you. You think I have no other resources? To stay informed about my own son?”
To spy on his own son. How long had Avroz known? Why wait to reveal his hand?
Because he wanted something. Curses stuck to Antal’s teeth.
Avroz watched every tick of scowl and tail. When Antal said nothing, his father softened, back to that low tone that almost sounded like he cared.
“You’ve done well in your post, Antal. You’ve shown resourcefulness, ambition—all wasted on a territory. Now is your time to apply yourself somewhere better.”
Antal heard the threat beneath the words: one report from Avroz, and Antal could be deposed. Daeyari ruled their territories as they saw fit, so long as they followed a system approved by the Daey Celva. Standard edicts ensured humans stayed in their place, ensured prey remained afraid and docile.
Just days ago, everything had seemed perfect. Antal’s territory was thriving, his people coming to accept him. All he’d wanted was a little more time, enough to show the benefits of his new system. Perhaps, enough to petition the Daey Celva to formally approve it.
Now he had no time. Antal saw his two worlds colliding, the humans of his territory depending on him. He saw Avroz waiting for a single slip to dig his claws in. Mere seconds to weigh the pieces on the table.
Antal knew what he had to do.
A compromise that would give Avroz what he wanted, and that was the part he loathed.
But maybe this wasn’t ruined yet. Maybe Antal could get what he wanted, too.
“You want me to hunt this aedari?” he said. “You want me on the Daey Celva?”
Antal mustered every scrap of courage in his Void-ether body. He stepped closer to Avroz than he’d ever dared. As close as he’d stood to Tyvo, the scent of hoarfrost snapping his nerves.
“I also keep my position as territory lord on the Winter Plane,” Antal said. “And before you leave on your Pilgrimage, you motion to codify my new system.”
His demands hung in the scant space between them. Avroz didn’t flinch. Didn’t bare his teeth. His head tilted to an angle of intrigue.
“Antal,” he said slowly, curved with a grin. “Is this a negotiation?”
Chin up. Breath steady. Antal focused on every piece of the act. “Does that displease you, izaevi?”
He nearly cracked when Avroz laughed.
“Quite the opposite. You found your spine on that Plane after all.” Avroz’s grin stretched wider, baring too many teeth. “Deal.”