Stahli shut his eyes against the pain in his stomach and listened to the songs of magic around him. His people used music to craft metal, every tool, building and among the most skilled, clothes. All were made from sung metal. The bed beneath him was tuned to his heartbeat, so all it took was a little purr from him to change how it held him. A song stood out to him. It was high and resonated through the metal of the manor. A soft, lilting thing from a soprano. No metal rose in response to it. It was just for personal enjoyment. Stahli shut his eyes and relaxed into the familiar voice of his twin sister, Eir.

  Thinking of her brought that horrible last battle to mind. He had led a phalanx into battle. They were pushing the invaders back. Screams of song, of metal against ice, he didn’t remember how he had ended up on the other side of the rift. Why one of the invaders had healed him was a mystery to him. Then Talia and Eir had come from him. Had he been more able, he would have told them both off for that. It all went wrong from there. That monster of a woman appeared. She killed Talia, his beloved mate. Then, he had failed to kill her in turn. The monster had made a fool out of him and hadn’t even been bothered to kill him. Just discarded him and went on to shatter the army his sire Briedr, the king of this region and his sire, had mustered. He didn’t even remember what happened after that, only that Eir got him home. Briedr had collected Talia’s body and interred it in the garden.

  It had been a couple months, but he had not visited it. Not out of lack of desire but ability, standing was a difficult task that was done only as absolutely necessary. He pressed a hand on his wounds. The pain heightened, but it was a welcome feeling. He deserved it for failing to protect his mate, for creating a situation where she felt the need to rescue him. He opened his eyes and traced the ornate replica of leaves over his head. The soft white light from the glow globs mounted into the walls reflected off the edges, creating a silver hue.

  The door to his room opened with a soft purr and swirl of metal into the walls to create an open circle. Two men entered the room. The first was Fynen, a creche mate to Stahli. They had grown up together as first friends, then lovers, only for that aspect to wane with time and Talia’s arrival. Fynen was taller than Stahli but considerably leaner. He wore a robe of metal so soft and fluid as if to be fabric. His long hair was blonde mixed with ginger and tightly braided which reached to the crown of his head. His facial features were narrow, but his eyes were a wide almond shape and a rich gold colour. He strode over to Stahli and flicked his hand away. He touched gently around the holes and found while warmer then usual, the skin wasn’t so hot as to be infected.

  Fynen pursed his lips as he massaged the uppermost layers of skin against the muscle. His voice was soft and even as he asked gently, “Any luck with moving around more?”

  “A little,” Stahli shifted up onto his arms for now, ignoring the stranger. He was a small thing, about half of Stahli’s own three-meter glory. With the darkest skin that Stahli had ever seen. Not to mention being as bald as an egg, something virtually unheard of among the Eatillite. The stranger wore heavy red-auburn robes that concealed his physic, but by the set of his shoulder, Stahli had a feeling that he was a weakling. His face was strangely square, with eyes that looked almost out of place on the rest of it, slated and narrow. Lastly, across his chest was a wide leather belt that supported a large square tough leather bag at his right side. Stahli winced as Fynen prodded his stomach again, “Oww.”

  “You can speak, absolutely improved enough for me to prod you,” Fynen smirked as he shifted to remove some of Xyon’s stitches from Stahli’s upper arms.

  Stahli dropped his head back onto the bed and focused on the metal leaves above. The tug of thread out of his flesh made it tingling horribly. “So why is the foreign weakling here?”

  Fynen flicked Stahli in the forehead with a roll of his eyes. “This is Xyon Vr’Solen. He is an ambassador from the Empire and a healer who has been given to us as an err. What was that word again?” The blonde looked over his shoulder Xyon.

  “Xenobiologist!” Xyon chirped with a grin, his voice reflecting his stature, a rather dull alto. “And surgeon is the correct word, though I am also a chemist, and I am here to study your species to prepare you for Empire integration. So that you don’t all kneel over and die from some random virus the moment you step off-world. Datharians are akin to your people, so they have been given free rein to travel already, but your own really shouldn’t leave till I’ve had a chance to take samples from your world.”

  Both Eatilli blinked once slowly at him. Stahli wondered how the heck this Xyon even spoke their language or what ‘xenobiologist, surgeon, chemist and virus’ were. He wondered how the invaders could be fine on their planet when the Eatillite weren’t fine to leave. Stahli attempted to stand up, but his wounds vetoed that idea violently, and he grimaced.

  Xyon reached into his side bag and removed an earthenware jar. “Speaking of chemistry, I brought some painkillers for you. And I would like to check my work, Mayve did stab you de-.”

  “That was you!” Stahli lunged and crashed to the floor as his body wholeheartedly disagreed with the idea of moving. At all. Fynen caught him with a stagger of his own. He didn’t have the same muscle mass to stop him entirely Stahli. Stahli snarled, baring fanged teeth at Xyon as he roared, “I will rip you limb from limb!”

  “Stahli,” Fynen growled as he shifted his weight so Stahli’s mass didn’t bring them both down. “Get back on the bed, or I will drop you.”

  Stahli only growled louder. The metal of the floor below him started to warp and rise up towards Xyon. Only to yelp as Fynen did the same, only to the bed behind him and yanked him back by several tendrils of metal onto the bed. Stahli tried to sit up only to have Fynen tighten the metal around him. “Let me go,” he snarled.

  “No. I am not letting you murder the guest.” Fynen said as he sat on the bed and rested a hand on Stahli’s chest. “I understand your anger, but now is not the time or place.”

  “He-,” Stahli started.

  “Xyon please wait outside a moment,” Fynen cut him off.

  “Of course.” Xyon said and exited, and Fynen hummed the door closed behind him.

  “Why did you bring him here?” Stahli’s voice was tight with barely contained rage.

  “He’s a healer, and he said he could help with your pain. And he said that he was the one to stitch you up after you encountered, err, oh, what was her name… Mayve. Given that you haven’t had any issues, not even an infection. I decided that letting him have a look at his work, hopefully, so I could learn something, was a worthwhile risk. I knew you’d be furious.” Fynen signed and sagged as he said. “Look, I get it, but please, can you keep the rage-full murdering to a minimum?”

  Stahli looked pointedly away from him, rage rolled off of him. He had a great many words for Fynen but to much shame to speak any of them. Apologies that needed to be made now that Talia wasn’t being his singular focus. And for his behaviour in the battle against Mayve, it had been improper. It still irked him that he had failed, now that he had to clean up his mess, which he really didn’t want to do, but Xyon had taken that option away. Now, he was sure his family wouldn’t let him out of their sight.

  “He,” Stahli said and ground his teeth, trying to find the words that wouldn’t give his goals away to Fynen. “I,” he snapped before giving up.

  “Wanted to die with Talia. I’m not stupid Stahli.” Fynen said smoothly, but Stahli could hear the anger that bubbled under it. “Grief would be the only thing that would make you overlook the safety of your sister. Be the only reason you didn’t just grab her and run for the gate to get back to our forces. I, for one, am happy that Xyon put you back together.”

  Stahli cringed at being caught out so blatantly. He looked away to stare at the wall. The metal there mimicked bark. Trace the grains of it with his eyes was soothing. Guilt filled him. He had put vengeance for Talia over getting Eir to safety. They had come to rescue him, and he had discarded that at the first provocation. Maybe if they had just run, escaped before Mayve arrived. Maybe Talia would be alive right now. But no, they wasted precious time, slaying invaders instead of retreating. All three of them knew better than to fight on enemy territory but had gotten greedy and overconfident. He was their protector. He should have pressed the issue of retreat and led them back through the rift. It was all his fault. What right did he have to continue when Talia was dead.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Fynen moved his hand to hold Stahli’s nearest one tightly as he spoke gently, “We all do foolish things in the moment. And I know you forgot about me, too lost in Talia. Just don’t forget that you still have a family who loves you and a sister who needs you. At least you distracted Mayve from her. I understand your grief, but don’t discount the grief of others and the grief your own stupidity can cause.”

  Stahli flinched, his silver eyes finally meeting Fynen’s golden ones. “You’ve made your point,” he said.

  “Good,” Fynen stood, his braid swaying as he did and said, “I am going to let the healer in. You are going to let him check you over. Without grumbling or trying to kill him. If anything, you should thank him for helping you and your sister get back home.”

  “Understood,” Stahil grumbled but exhaled and shut his eyes. His wounds were throbbing aggressively, and the adrenaline had faded. Just being awake was becoming a chore, much less being angry.

  Fynen let Xyon back in, and Stahli stayed still as the surgeon removed the stitches he had used to close the wounds Mayve had created. He was poked, prodded and asked about his diet and other biological functions. A pinkies width of green cream was put on his inner wrist to ‘check for a reaction of his epidermis.’ Xyon seemed to enjoy using words that they didn’t understand. Fynen started to teach Xyon, or rather answer Xyon’s questions to the best his limited vocabulary was capable of. Xyon revealed that he had taken plant samples and used them to craft a translation bracelet. Apparently, the Empire made such things on mass, and it allowed for extensive communication but they couldn’t help with words that had no equivalent in other languages.

  After half an hour, Xyon applied the green cream to the cuts from Mayve and sewed them back up again. Before applying something that he called ‘plasters’ to them. Last but not least, he took out a clear, small triangular crystal from a jar and pressed it against Stahli’s upper arm. Xyon sang a few notes to form magic, and the crystal dissolved into Stahli’s arm. Five minutes after that, the pain that had dominated everything finally faded away. Stahli had been stubbornly mute through this entire time, and as soon as the painkiller kicked in was fast asleep.

  At midnight, Stahli crept from his room. With care he avoided the guards and through the dark halls. The hour concealed their splendour as he headed to an inner open courtyard. Usually, it was densely covered in ferns, flowers, and other ground cover. Several sections had been cut out of the foliage, and stone cairns had been built in their place. Within this courtyard, there were eight cairns, half of his créche. The rest were buried in another courtyard; only Fynen was left. Stahli clenched his fists. Nearly all his friends were dead.

  Each cairn was covered in a metal layer, and insects were allowed to clean the bones from below while protecting visitors from the sight and smell. He settled under a couple of ferns by Talia’s cairn. He wondered why she had come after him. If she had just stayed behind, she’d be alive now. Tears welled up in his eyes. He would have never asked her to risk her life like that. He had tried to kill her murderer but had failed miserably. Then Xyon hadn’t even let him die with honour. He clenched his fists and started a quiet mourning howl. They had been mates and had been trying to have children. All that had been stolen from him.

  His tears followed as he howled. He hadn’t had a chance to mourn her yet—too busy with his injuries. Stahli coughed and sniffed as he tried to clean his face ineffectively. He didn’t hear or see her.

  The female who sat beside him was forty centimetres shorter than him. She was his opposite, all soft curves with full breasts. Her hair was a mix of blood red and onyx black in contrast to Stahli’s black and gold. Their skins were the same light tan. Her features were soft, and she had the same silver eyes as her twin brother. She wore a long skirt of flowing steel that spread out over the grass as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  Stahli hid his face from her, only for her to shift over, facing him and into his thigh and pull him gently by the back of the head to rest his face against her neck. She held him tight as he sobbed softly against her. His twin simply held him till the tears waned, occasionally purring a soft tune to help soothe him. After a couple minutes, Stahli pulled back and let her clear the tear tracks. He coughed once to clear his throat before mutely asking, “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “Fynen mentioned that Xyon said that he was pretty sure the painkillers would see you through the night. I found it unlikely that you’d actually sleep the night through. I’m more surprised that sire and dam aren’t here.” Eir said softly but looked around.

  Stahli wasn’t looking forward to speaking with their dam. She was always planning something, and with the Empire on their doorstep, he was sure she had a plan for him. He couldn’t help but smile as he considered their parents. He said, “they probably aren’t here because they knew you would be.”

  “Likely,” Eir said with a smirk and little nod of her shoulder, then looked away frugality, her gaze flicking to his eyes and away again. “Still, we haven’t spoken since Talia and all the rest happened.”

  Stahli snapped back. He leaned away from her, though he couldn’t get far with her on his lap. Which he suspected had been her plan all along. She was clever like that and his other half, like he, was hers. Both their dam and sire had made comments about them sharing a brain on occasion. Usually when one or both of them had done something stupid. So, it was a regular occurrence. He frowned and rested his weight on his palms as he looked away from her. “I really don’t know what there is to say.”

  “She was to be the dam of your children. That’s no little thing,” Eir said, hugging herself tight, “she was family to me too. To dam and sire as well.”

  Stahli didn’t think, just leaned forward and hugged her tight. This time, she cuddled her face to his neck. “I’m sorry sister, I haven’t asked how you have been.” He said, his voice rumbled through their bones.

  “Better than you.” She mumbled against his skin, “That General is back, and he’s taking me away soon. Dam talked him into waiting till after Talia’s last howling.” Eir pulled back and sniffed, cleaning a tear away with a thumb. “When we put her in the,” her voice grew thick with tears “crypts.”

  His grip tightened on her arms as he growled, “Taking you away?”

  Eir nodded and said, “plenty of pretty language around it. They are making me a hostage. Sire is still arguing with the General over exactly what will be done. I don’t see how sire can get anything out of this.” She looked him up and down and saw the rage brewing. “No, no. Don’t do anything stupid. We can’t do anything.”

  “But-”

  Eir put a finger on his lips, “No.”

  Stahli growled but forced it down and exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. “As you wish,” he said. Then looked at Talia’s cairn again; the grief rose up, but he had his twin to worry about now. “Howl with me?” He asked, “then you need to tell me what I’ve missed, and we should make a plan.”

  They settled together and began a howl. The Eatillite howled for many reasons, howls for birthdays, births, specific ones for holidays, and to mourn the dead. The siblings harmonized together. They kept it soft and quiet. Only occasionally raising the volume, when they did, their voices cut through the night and could be heard all the way to the forest. Stahli and Eir poured their grief into the howl. The sound waned as the twins grew tired and rested against each other. It felt good to them to put that pain into something that couldn’t hurt them or anyone else.

  Stahli carefully lied back. All the effort to sing the grief made his wounds ache through the painkiller. Eir shifted to lay beside him, her head on his shoulder. She held one of his hands between hers. The silver-eyed male dipped his head towards her. To lose her was unthinkable. “What is going to happen?” he asked.

  “They are taking me to Dathari. Beyond that, I don’t really know.” She traced her thumb along a vein in the back of his hand. “Oh, and that healer Xyon, he came with the General. They are friends.”

  “Hmm, maybe we can use that.” Stahli mused aloud, “he’s here to study us. Maybe I can do the same in turn. Find a way to get to you on Dathari through him.”

  “I doubt he’s stupid enough to fall for that.”

  “It might not matter. He might not care.” Stahli said and turned to face her with a grimace and she moved up to be eye level with him.

  Eir pursed her bow lips and said, “It couldn’t hurt to try.”

  “I don’t have a better idea,” he reached out and brushed a rogue red lock behind her fluffy wolf ear.

  “An idea is better than no idea.” Eir nuzzled his hand lovingly. She said, “you should get back to bed. Maybe I can even convince you to start eating properly,” she said with a teasing tone.

  Stahli grimaced at the thought, but with the pain finally manageable, he’d be lying to say he wasn’t hungry. If he was to be completely honest, he’d rather stay with his mate. Not eating was more appealing, as much as he knew that his family was watching him and wouldn’t let him starve himself. There would be no chasing after Talia. Despite what he wanted, he knew that was for the best. He had Eir to seek soon. No amount of grief could justify leaving her alone in the hands of the Empire.