Page 24 of Daughter of No Worlds

“Nura.” A strained male voice. “What, exactly, do you want?”

Chapter Seven

The earth shifted and slid beneath me, and I struggled to stay upright. It took me too long to realize I was still, embarrassingly, clinging to Nura’s arm.

“Tisaanah, this is Maxantarius.”

I tore my eyes from the bright sun, blinking at our surroundings. Nura and I now stood in one of the largest gardens I had ever seen. It sprawled in all directions, flowers and greenery consuming every inch of earth. Nestled in the middle of it all was a little stone cabin. And there, crouched among wild white rose bushes, was a man who stood to meet us, sharp features pinched beneath the shadow of tousled black hair.

Blackhair.

He wasn’t a Valtain.

This had to be a mistake. Now I understood the confused wrinkle on Willa’s forehead.

“Maxantarius? Really?” He rolled his eyes, letting out a scoff. His purple silk jacket — which struck me as horribly impractical clothing for gardening — rippled under the sun as he crossed his arms across his chest.

His gaze settled on me. It was the brightest, iciest blue I had ever seen, so unnervingly stark that it edged on inhuman. “Can you tell me why you’re bringing strange girls in nightgowns to stomp my irises?”

I looked down at myself, forcing myself not to be embarrassed by this shapeless cotton thing. Then looked down further, to the little blue flowers crushed under my toes.

To be fair, it would have been impossiblenotto crushsomething.

Nura only answered, icily, “You haven’t shown up to the Towers for any mandatory appearances.”

Maxantarius lifted one long, straight finger. “One. That isn’t your concern, is it?” Then another. “Two. As you know, I am retired.”

“You’re still a member of the Orders.”

He uncrossed his arms, jerking his sleeve up in one sharp movement, making a show of examining the inside of his right wrist. I caught a glimpse of a small, gold-colored tattoo. The sun. “I’ve been meaning to get rid of this thing.”

Nura didn’t react, save for a small tightening of the muscles around her eyes. So slight that I would have missed it if I wasn’t desperate for signs of communication, desperate to latch on to something other than the Aran words that I struggled to understand.

She gestured to me. “This is Tisaanah. She has been assigned to be your apprentice.”

I armed myself with the most dazzling, bright-eyed smile in my arsenal, inclining my head in a greeting.

Maxantarius’s eyes danced from me to Nura and then back to me, black eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly, sharp words dangling in the air.

And then, he laughed.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You didn’t take one six months ago, so here you are.”

“Retired. That was the agreement. And besides —" His arms dropped, gesturing to me, then flailing into something like a shrug. “I mean—honestly? Do I have tosayany of this? Where do I even start?”

During that last question, his gaze flicked over me with an incredulous disgust that made my teeth grind together.

“What are your reservations?” Nura retorted.

“What are myreservations?You bring me a fragmentedValtainwho’s practicallygeriatricand ask me what myreservationsare?”

Geh-ri-act-rick.

I didn’t know what it meant, but I was sure it was an insult.

I steeled myself with a face of charming, earnest pleasantness. “It would be honor to train with you— ah—” I didn’t even know how to approach attempting to say Maxantarius’s name. Instead I awkwardly cut myself short, offering a doe-eyed beam in its place, before turning to Nura. “But maybe better if I could find Valtain?”

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