Page 173 of Children of Fallen Gods

“I had a lot of alone time when I was out on the front. Not how I wanted to show you, but…” His gaze flicked away, slightly bashful. Then he cleared his throat and looked to Filias.

“Tisaanah is correct,” he said, in broken Thereni. “In direct fight, we lose. Butonlyif is…ah…” He struggled to find the right word, releasing Thio just long enough to spread his hands out. “All. Together. So, we do not do that.” A satisfied smile spread over his lips, barely suppressed. “We fight them separated.”

His word choice was clumsy, but I understood his meaning. “It isn’t hard to turn the Threllian Lords against each other,” I said. “Especially now. They’ve gone so long without a collective enemy that their main concern is wrestling power from each other. We use that.”

I did not look at Max, but I could feel his gaze — could feel the spark of admiration. Riasha was nodding, thinking to herself, and Filias put his hands behind his head.

“Don’t care how we do it,” he said. “As long as we win.”

We will, I wanted to say.I swear it to you. But that promise caught in my throat, leaden with uncertainty.

There was another crash and flurry of clumsy footsteps, and two more children flew into the room with chaotic shouts. Thio immediately leapt from Max’s grasp, kicking him in the stomach in the process, and joined the two other children in the center of the room.

“Not fair!” Thio shouted. “It wasmyturn to Wield next!”

It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at:

One of the children, a little girl, had smeared dirt on one side of her face. She was throwing paper playfully at Thio. Not just paper, I realized. Paperbutterflies.

She was pretending to beme.

A lump rose in my throat. When I looked back at Filias, he was watching me carefully.

“What a silly game,” I said, but my voice sounded choked, and Filias’s gaze softened.

“Silly as hells,” he said. “But I’ll admit that you did good, Tisaanah.”

I gave him a weak smile.

I hoped good was enough.

* * *

It was nearly sundown.I pulled my jacket closer around me — Ara was getting cold. After Filias and Riasha, there were others to visit, more refugees who wanted to speak to me. “One more thing,” I kept saying to Max. And eventually, he just responded with a deadpan stare.

“You can barely stand. Hell,Ican barely stand. Let’s go.”

“But there’s just—”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a one-track mind?” He tilted my chin towards him. “You can’t save the world just yet. But we’ll be back. Hey. Look at them.” He nodded towards the people in the streets. The buildings, while run down, were slowly being repaired and decorated. Before, this place had been tense and empty. Now, children played outside. Old women sipped tea at little tables. People tended potted gardens.

“They’re living their lives,” he said, quietly. “And they still will be when you get back.”

I wasn’t sure why my eyes were stinging, but I nodded silently, and took Max’s hand. Then I paused, giving him a sidelong glance.

“What?” he said.

“You learned Thereni.”

He looked away, a shade of embarrassed. “Poorly. Mostly in books. I’m sure my pronunciation is a mess. I just thought…” His gaze slid back to me. When he spoke next, it was in fractured, heavily accented Thereni. “Always, you listen to words that are not belonging of you. I want…” He stumbled, struggling. “I want to give you, to speak of you, inyourwords. Your… voice.”

I closed my eyes, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Yes, he was right. His Thereni was terrible, the accent so thick it was difficult to understand. And yet, the sound of my mother tongue rendered in his voice felt like the collision of two songs sung deep in my soul, now intertwined in perfect harmony. It sounded likehome.

Home.

I squeezed his hand.

“Let’s go home,” I choked out.

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