Page 144 of Daughter of No Worlds

Chapter Fifty

Tisaanah

Iwill open his throat and lick his blood from your fingers.

The next morning, I felt no sign of Reshaye in my head, save for the slight pressure lingering silently at the back of my skull. But it didn’t need to speak to me now. The words it had said to me last night were more than enough to haunt me all day.

I could barely bring myself to look at Max in the morning. Not that there was much time to socialize, anyway. We rose at dawn and immediately began preparations to travel to Threll. The boat that would carry us there was a beautiful creation, low and slim, sails fanning out like the spines along a lizard’s back. The rising sun seared through the white-and-gold fabric, emblazoned with a sun and moon, leaving little doubt as to who claimed it.

It looked nothing like the plain merchant’s boat that had carried me across the sea more than six months ago. And yet, when I stood at the docks, pungent smell of the ocean in my nostrils and salty air stringing my cheeks, the scars on my back throbbed.

I was surprised to find out thatbothNura and Zeryth would accompany us, at least on the first leg of the trip. In addition, we would also be joined by two Syrizen. I had to force myself not to stare at their neat, eyeless scars as we were introduced: Eslyn and Ariadnea. Eslyn, who was slight with sharp features and golden skin, seemed much friendlier than her taller, broader, fairer companion, but the two of them still were reserved and kept to themselves after greeting us.

I got the impression, based on their frustrated-sounding whispers and cold glances, that they were not particularly thrilled about coming on this journey. And yet, unnerving as they were, I was glad we had them.

Because that was it: just seven people to march into the home of one of the most powerful Threllian Lords on the continent. Or eight, I supposed, if we counted Reshaye.

Max stood against the dock railing next to me, and we both looked out at the sea, leaning into each other's silence. My anxiety choked me, and I knew that if I so much as glanced at him, it would all come bubbling up. I could feel him staring at me.

I will open his throat and lick his blood from your fingers.

“Tisaanah...” he started, but before he could speak — to my relief — a louder voice broke through the air.

“But when you get back?”

Max and I turned to see Moth hurrying after Sammerin as he crossed onto the docks.

“I don’t know when that will be, Moth,” Sammerin said. “Helene will be an excellent teacher.”

“But when you do?” Moth pressed. “When you do come back, maybe then?”

Sammerin turned around, tucked his hands beneath his cape, and regarded Moth for a long, quiet moment. “Yes. When I come back, when I am no longer needed by the Orders, I will be your teacher again.”

Moth seemed only slightly comforted by this assurance, giving Sammerin a skeptical glance beneath a furrowed brow. Then he caught sight of Max and turned to us, shrinking slightly under his gaze.

“I’m sorry again about the spyglass. And the flowers. And the—”

The left corner of Max’s mouth raised. “What spyglass?”

“The one I—”

“I don’t remember any spyglass.”

“Remember, I broke it—”

Max sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and, despite everything, I found myself suppressing the tiniest of smiles. “Never mind, Moth. It’s fine. It’s forgotten.”

“Oh.” Moth looked down at his hands, fidgeting. “Well, still—”

“There was a time when I broke a lot of things I didn’t mean to, too. Just keep working on it. You’ll get there. When you do, I think you’ll be a hell of a Wielder.”

Moth looked so startled that his whole body lurched. “You do?”

“Maybe.” Max shrugged. “Prove me right.”

This statement seemed to rearrange Moth’s whole world. Then he looked to me.

“Sammerin wouldn’t tell me all of it, but you’re going for the slaveowners, aren’t you? That’s why you’re going to Threll.”

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