30 Honestly, who would be into teeth? #2
“The daeyari are a blight upon the Shattered Planes.” The aedari’s voice hardened.
Heat bloomed off her like a wildfire. “They devour your people. Animals, unable to control their instincts, skulking in their shadowed Planes. But fear not, little one, for we’ve come to you at last. We are your old gods, returned to set you free. ”
The aedari spread her arms.
Spread her wings.
Feathers of golden light materialized behind her.
The plumes spread to their full extent, engulfing Fi in blinding heat, the aedari resplendent in her gold-draped silhouette and eyes like molten metal.
The spectacle was terrifying. Awe-inspiring.
The sort of image that lowly mortals chiseled into stone walls to be remembered for all eternity.
In that heart-stilling moment, Fi understood—
The aedari were absolute, unapologetic dicks.
Syvr had warned her the aedari liked to play at gods. And sure, Fi’s eyes did widen beneath those scorching wings. It was only natural to feel terrified of this creature who could probably snap her bones with a thought.
And a year ago, wouldn’t it have sounded enticing? This immortal from the far reaches of the Shattered Planes, come to destroy the beasts who’d hunted Fi’s people as prey?
But there’d been no gods on her Plane since the Great Beasts millennia ago.
And Fi had seen these aedari bleed.
The most wretched immortals Fi had met always cast their cruelty as kindness.
Verne, claiming humans ought to be grateful not to be hunted like rabbits through the woods.
Avroz, acting like he had Antal’s best interest at heart, like not gutting Fi was a gift.
She expected nothing better from someone claiming divinity.
Regardless, she made sure to sound impressed.
“You mean it?” Fi said. “You’re here to free us from the daeyari? They told me you were our enemies, that you’d destroy our whole Plane.”
“Lies. Our quarrel isn’t with you, human. Only your masters.” The aedari leaned close again, wings arced to blanket Fi in sunlight. “And they’re afraid. We’ve scouted many Planes, searching for their nest. We’re close, now.”
“How do you know?” That one, genuine curiosity.
The aedari smirked. “We’ve not seen a single reincarnated daeyari here. The beasts force their feral kin far from their home Plane, guard dogs to prevent us getting close.”
A knot tightened in Fi’s stomach. She’d known the derived daeyari were kept away, out in the Contested Planes, less trouble for the mortal territories. She’d never thought of them as fodder to hold back the aedari. A war among immortals called for ruthless action on both sides.
“But you can help us.” Kressyalia turned her most tender yet. “How many daeyari travelled with you? What were they planning?”
Fi chewed her lip.
Of course she was going to lie. But how to lie, and not sabotage her daeyari allies? At her hesitance, the aedari’s eyes narrowed.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the other one, Drekanmis. “The dae- yari know we’re here. We can take her with us back to Avarglais. Question her there.”
Fi bit back no less than five curses.
She wasn’t going anywhere with these aedari, especially not a place she’d never heard of. Their home Plane, judging by the familiar way he spoke the name.
Fi had to think fast. She had transport stones in her pockets—useless, would only get her as far as she could throw one. She could Voidwalk an escape, now that her focus was less muddied. But she’d nearly conned these light-feathered fools. She couldn’t run away.
And she knew one carrot the aedari really wanted…
“You’re looking for the Twilit Plane?” Fi said. “I know where it is. I can show you.”
Both the aedari went as still as gold-plated statues.
“How do you know this?” Kressyalia asked, flat. Only perked ears betrayed her intrigue.
“My daeyari took me. He made me promise never to tell the way to anyone.”
Drekanmis scoffed. “A trick.”
“A trick?” Kressyalia gripped Fi’s chin, fingers tightening with warning pressure. “You wouldn’t try to trick us, little one?”
Fi had worried this world was too big for her.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. She was right in her element.
“I can show you,” Fi pleaded. “Please. Anything to get me away from those creatures.”
They wanted to believe her. Fi saw the hunger in their gilded eyes, that same glimmer of a smuggler about to lay hands on a payout, of a child eyeing a caramel-coated dessert.
“Tell us the way, then,” Kressyalia said.
“I can’t tell you, it’s too complicated. But I can show you.”
“If you’re lying—”
“I can prove it! Right now.” Fi made her eyes so big. She made her voice shake. She didn’t need them to trust her completely.
All she needed was the aedari’s pause, her lips pressed thin in contemplation.
Kressyalia looked to her partner. He returned narrowed eyes. An argument without words. The way they’d bickered with each other, their casual mannerisms, all suggested more than a shallow acquaintanceship. Fi stowed the knowledge in a safe place.
At last, his shoulders slumped with concession.
Kressyalia grinned—baring long canines that hadn’t been there before. Her fingers gripped Fi’s face, too firm.
“Very well, human,” the creature said with honeyed menace. “Prove your worth. Prove what you are willing to give to your new gods. But if you try to deceive us…”