27 Terrible plans over mediocre coffee #2
“I struggled on my own. If you hadn’t intervened…” Ixli glared at the floor—but her tail swayed smoother. “You also fought well. Many daeyari aren’t brave enough to enter combat with an aedari.”
Fuck it. Fi would take that. “Those metal claw sheaths you used. Where can I get some?”
“You don’t need claws,” Antal said, visibly beleaguered.
A laugh from Syvr. “I imagine she could make excellent use of claws, Antal.”
Whatever their implication, it was clearly dirty. This fueled Fi. A nightmare of a potential tag team, she realized with mounting delight.
“Yeah, Antlers,” she pressed. “Why can’t I have claws?”
Syvr cocked their head so far, they could have snapped a vertebra. Fi tensed. Had she pushed too far? Overestimated how well they were getting along?
Oh, wait. No.
The nickname.
Antal stood beside her, eyes closed, looking as though he was trying to will his soul to the Void. Fantastic. Fi was having fun again.
“In seasonspeak,” Antal explained. “The word for…” He pointed to his head.
“Antlers,” Syvr mused. “And… Antal.” They paused for one stricken moment.
Then laughed so hard, half the capitol must have heard. Even Ixli twitched a grin. This meeting was Fi’s best idea ever.
It was fascinating, watching the shift in the room.
Syvr claimed a chair by the table, sipping their coffee. Ixli inched closer, inspecting the map. Even Kashvi lowered some bristles. She studied the daeyari with more caution than resentment, these guests who weren’t like the tyrants they’d tangled with.
It still surprised Fi a little, every time daeyari acted like people. Not folktale wraiths or predators waiting for the instant she turned her back. The same revelation Fi once had for Antal—just, with more of his tongue in her mouth.
He stood easier, too. Always more relaxed without his father around.
These two daeyari weren’t as hard as Avroz. Fi finally saw hints of it, now that they’d been hewn from the pack, in Syvr’s teasing and Ixli’s harmless swats, in Antal’s ghost of a grin as he watched them settle. These used to be his friends.
He deserved to have this again.
Fi let her thumb brush his tail, a comfort. A promise.
“Sometime today?” Kashvi said. “This is my office. And I have other work.”
Fi was tragically lacking in things to throw at her.
“If you’re hoping for good news,” Syvr said in seasonspeak, “we don’t bring much. No signs of the aedari since our run-in. It’s laying low. Very low. I’ve been listening in at every major city across the Season-Locked Planes, but not a peep about our target.”
Once Antal finished translating, Ixli waved a hand over the map. “What’s this?”
“Past aedari encounters,” Fi said. “As many as we’ve been able to collect.”
Despite the improved tensions, Ixli and Syvr flicked curious looks between Fi and Antal. Surprise that the human had answered, not the territory lord?
Fi bristled. They had the audacity to doubt her in her home terrain? She knew this Plane as well as any immortal. She had Void-ether prickling her stomach. If these daeyari didn’t think she was tough enough, she could show them otherwise.
Instead, Fi forced a level breath. Looked to Antal.
His first instinct was a flicked tail, posture taut, as if itching to shield Fi from a potential threat.
He, too, forced a pause. This was a new dance they were improvising, steps to move in tandem, without driving allies away.
Antal nodded, signaling Fi to continue. In exchange, she plunged her temper into an ice bath.
“We’ve been as thorough as possible,” Fi said. “Verified everything we can. Mostly Antal Territory, but we’ve been sweeping wider across the Winter Plane.”
“You gathered all this?” Ixli said.
“I helped.” Fi nodded to Kashvi. “Our governor handled the coordination. With some of my colleagues doing the legwork.”
“Impressive…”
Ixli hopped onto the table for a better look, crouching while her tail swayed over the side. Kashvi flinched at claws on wood. Fortunately, not a crossbow-worthy offense.
“All these records,” Ixli said. “So remote.”
“Which is why you aren’t finding shit in the big cities,” Kashvi said. “All the cases have been in smaller settlements.”
“Reasonable,” Syvr added. “If the aedari is trying to avoid attention.”
Fi considered the farmhouse on the Summer Plane, far enough outside town for an unusual visitor to avoid notice. She thought of equally remote tracks before that, one trail leading to an overgrown road.
“The aedari is hunting in the countryside,” she pieced together. “Near low-traffic roadsides, probably only used by locals. Waiting to find a target alone?”
Syvr shared a thoughtful look with Ixli. “Not much help if that’s the case. Too much ground to scout.”
“There must be a strategy.” Ixli leaned over the map.
“The aedari is moving quickly, gathering information, trying not to be detected. And look at the dates.” She pointed to the closest pin.
“All these dates on the Winter Plane, interspersed between the ones we’ve tracked on Summer.
It’s hopping around. On Spring and Autumn, too. ”
That gave them a theme, but still no trackable pattern. Fi scoured the map for the dozenth time, seeking something she hadn’t noticed.
Until a sliver of an idea emerged.
“That aedari could teleport,” she said. “Can he move between Planes? Or does he need Curtains to do that, like daeyari?”
Ixli and Syvr looked equally puzzled. It was Antal who answered.
“Aedari still need Curtains. They’re even more Plane-bound than daeyari. Only Voidwalkers can pass directly between Planes.”
Fi catalogued the pins, built some mental maps. Shit, this might be something.
“He’s using the Curtain network,” she said.
Across the table, Kashvi frowned. “Well, sure. Of course. But—”
“No, no, the aedari’s using one Curtain network.”
Fi bounced on her feet, seeing it click together. Shards were stepping stones between Planes, but they connected like a maze. The routes took years to map and memorize, even for an immortal. But Fi knew them like the back of her hand.
“The aedari doesn’t know the Curtain system here.
He’s using paths that are close together.
Look, these ones”—she pointed to three pins on the map—“all have nearby Curtains connecting to the same Shard. And these ones”—another four— “to a Shard next to that one. One step over, you’re on the Bridge to the Summer Plane.
He’s using one core Curtain network, starting small, then branching out. ”
And people claimed Void smuggling was a degenerate career path.
The daeyari looked at Fi with various degrees of bafflement. Plus Antal, gazing at her like the most brilliant creature in the Planeverse. That, she could devour all day.
“You’re sure?” Ixli said.
“Best Void smuggler in this territory,” Kashvi confirmed. “Of course she’s sure.”
“Excuse me,” Fi said, indignant. “Just this territory?”
Syvr joined Ixli inspecting the map. “That does narrow the ground to cover. If we target areas near these Curtains, we might pick up the aedari’s trail while it’s fresh.”
Fi had another idea. One that sped her heart into her throat.
“How about one better?” she said. “How about we find this aedari before he strikes?”
Syvr cocked their head. “And how will we manage that?”
This was one of her reckless plans. Or brilliant. Only time would tell.
“Send me,” she said. “As bait. A traveler out on the road, waiting to get caught.”
It sounded worse when she said it out loud. A ring of startled looks agreed with the absurdity of the proposal, the ludicrous prospect of Fi throwing herself at the immortal creature currently culling his way through her Plane.
Antal’s stare cut deepest. Merciless Void, which facet of those scorching crimson eyes hurt the most? Was it the outrage? The silent betrayal? The bottled shout she could hear on his tongue. You promised, Fionamara. No more putting yourself in reckless danger.
This plan wasn’t reckless. They were using all their advantages.
“The aedari has seen you before,” Ixli said. “It will remember you fought alongside daeyari.”
“All the better, right?” Fi said. “He’ll know I might have information he wants.”
“If it doesn’t attack first,” Syvr said.
“Sure. But I’m just a human.” Fi pressed the emphasis. A chronic sting—but also, if she used it right, an asset. “I’m not a threat. Even in that farmhouse, the aedari killed Jazst without a single word. He tried to talk to me.”
Void, Fi hoped she’d read that situation right. Her life was about to depend on it.
She looked to Antal. “I’ll be bait,” she said to everyone—but pointedly, softly to him. “The rest of you will be waiting. Ready to back me up the moment the aedari shows himself.”
“You’d risk that?” Syvr asked. “Alone with an aedari? It could strike in an instant. Before we have time to come to you.”
“I’ll be fine.” Fi braced her fists on the table. “I’ve got a long track record of immortals underestimating me.”
No shouts this time. No bared teeth or accusations. Fi looked to Antal with a silent entreaty.
Trust me.
He was all granite. Fractured edges. Fi saw the truth of him in the bob of his throat. She saw how much he’d shatter if he lost her.
Fi wouldn’t let that happen.
At last, Antal sighed, heavy enough to fill the Void.
“We have a plan, then,” he agreed.