Page 96 of Daughter of No Worlds

Just couldn’t do it anymore.I could feel that starting my own bones. The crushing weight of that hopelessness. I looked down at the dirt, at the leaves covering my toes. The moss on the rocks reminded me of the burns crawling over Vos’s face, the space between the leaves echoing the gaps of his missing nose.

I felt fingers on my chin, lifting my gaze. Max looked back at me with serious determination. “But I think you are better and stronger than I am in every way. That is the truth.”

A lump rose in my throat. I waited for his fingers to leave my chin, but they didn’t.

“Don’t let them ignore you, Tisaanah. You’re better than they are. They should be terrified of you. Make them scared. Beangry.”

I blinked and saw everything — everything — in that split second of darkness: every wide-brimmed slavers’ hat, every lash of Esmaris’s whip, every one of Zeryth’s condescending smiles, every injury that tore Vos’s body. They dug their fingernails into me, clutching at my heart like desperate ghosts.

My answer shuddered in a broken breath. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Why?”

Because it’s too much.

Because my fury petrifies me.

Because the last time I got angry, I felt a man’s life wither in my hands.

I opened my eyes and looked into Max’s, cloudy and blue, a reflection of my own. “Because if I allow myself to be angry, I will never stop.”

He leaned closer. So close his nose brushed mine, so close I could count his eyelashes. And so close that I felt his warm breath across my face as he smiled and said, with the viciousness of smoke and steel, “Good.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Istood at the entrance to the Towers ready for battle, watching the skyline of the Capital glow with the faint, failing light of dusk. I told myself that I wasn’t nervous, even though I knew it was a lie.

I was alone, for now. Max had left me a Stratagram to get to the Towers but told me he had some errands to run and would meet me here later. Just as well. It was easier for me to get ready alone. Maybe he understood that, though I don’t think he knew exactly what I was planning.

I turned and swept my eyes over the Towers’ dazzling splendor. They were lit up so brightly that they cut into the sky like two infinite columns of light, glass glittering in sunset. Each tier was now decorated with clusters of overflowing flowers and spilling swaths of shimmering chiffon.

A little much, I thought. But still, it was amazing how much they had managed to do to decorate since just yesterday.

I heard a familiar voice call my name and turned to see Moth bounding towards me, Sammerin not far behind. Both were impeccably dressed — even Moth, to my surprise, who wore a double-breasted jacket rendered in a striking orange brocade, his blond curls tamed (however temporarily) into something that could possibly be described as “neat.” As he approached, I could see that he had torn the edge of one sleeve. I’m sure it would be ruined by the end of the night.

“You look very nice, Moth.”

His eyes dropped. “Thanks. So do you.”

I looked to Sammerin, who was just catching up. He really did cut an impressive figure when he wanted to. He was always neatly put-together, yes. But tonight, in a close-fitting coat rendered in amber silk, a black velvet cloak falling over one shoulder, he was downright striking. I hoped I would get the opportunity to witness his famous flirtations. He was certainly dressed for it.

“And you, Sammerin.”

“Thank you.” He paused, regarded me. I wondered if I should be insulted by the faint surprise that flickered across his face. I decided I wouldn’t when he plainly stated, in that low, smooth tone, “You look beautiful.”

I looked down at myself — at the blood-red silk that hugged my body all the way to the ground, the skirt just light and billowing enough to float around my feet with my steps. Airy fabric slipped off my shoulders and fell into a low neckline of flowing crimson, all supported by a golden chain that clasped around my neck. The necklace Max had given me was nestled against my collarbone.

I gave Sammerin a little smile of thanks, and then I turned in a circle, slowly. When I reached them again, Moth and Sammerin’s faces were rendered in a shock that I found extremely satisfying.

That, after all, was exactly my goal.

My back was completely exposed, showcasing the full topography of scars over spotted skin. The fabric dropped so low that when a breeze blew, I got goosebumps at the dimples at the bottom of my spine — but I didn’t care about decency. I wanted to make an impact. I wanted toshoweveryone who wouldn’t listen.

That was why I’d taken the simplest dress I could find and slowly carved away pieces of it until it showed every single one of injures: removed the bottom of the sleeves to expose the scars on my forearms, dropped the shoulders to highlight the nicks at the crook of my neck. I swept my hair up so it wouldn’t cover one inch of it.

They wanted to ignore me? Fine. I’d show them what they were ignoring. I’d show them what their complacency meant.

“What happened?” Moth asked, at last, in a small voice. “To your…. to your back?

---