Page 164 of Daughter of No Worlds

Shutting me into darkness and drowning me in my own terrible past.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Max

Isearched her face for some sign of my friend, but I saw no trace of Tisaanah in those features or that voice. My stomach sank.

Come on, Tisaanah. Come back.

“You’re done,” I said.

A pained sneer formed over the bridge of her nose. “It is not enough.”

“You’re done,” I repeated. The red butterflies still streamed from her skin, clustering around her like wings and rising to the ceiling. But they were deformed now, little more than flapping blobs.

“Come back, Tisaanah. You’re still there.”

For one moment, she stared at me, and hope leapt in my chest.

And then the sneer deepened.

“Weare not done,” she snarled, and lifted Il’Sahaj into a vicious slash.

Fuck.

I blocked her, then again, and again. Every time her sword clashed against my staff, black crept up the liquid fire that pooled in its divets. Her magic was overtaking my own, hijacking the veins built into my weapon. My palms began to burn where my skin touched the metal. A butterfly collided with my forearm and I winced at the ensuing pain.

I thrust the metal back in one violent push, hurling her against the wall. She hit it, then stumbled, taking a moment too long to find her footing. The way her legs lurched told me that Reshaye still did not have complete control of her body.

A perfect opening. The part of me that was a trained fighter knew the movement so well that it twitched in my arms. Any other opponent, and that would be the end.

But this was not any other opponent. This was Tisaanah.

And all I could bring myself to do was pray that the moment of stunned impact might give her the opening that she needed to seize her own control.

Instead, her head lolled for only a moment before her eyes settled on me and she lunged.

I blocked, wincing as the skin on my palms burned.

Where was Sammerin? I couldn’t even see through these fucking butterflies. I could only take my eyes off her for split seconds at a time, but when I could, I searched over her shoulder into that morass of red.

Another lunge. Another block. Another rush of decayed black.

“You stifle yourself, Maxantarius.” Her nostrils twitched. “Why are you so afraid?”

I pulled away. My feet danced over dead bodies, each step deliberate to avoid slipping on a floor covered in gore and oily rot. Only for us to clash together again, her mouth offering a small, thoughtful smile.

“I already know what you really are. I know everything about you.” The smile soured. “I gave you those gifts. And yet, you never—”

The black crawled further up the veins of my staff.

Ascended, my fuckinghands—-

She went for another slash, and again, I evaded her.

“Would be an excellent time to come back now, Tisaanah,” I barked.

Please, Tisaanah, I know you can do this.

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