Page 119 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“Then take me with you.”

“He would kill me.” He said this very seriously, as if it was the literal truth.

“By any account I am unstable,” I shot back. “Who knows what I will do if left all alone by myself? The king would be more upset if something awful were to happen, would he not?”

Despite his grim expression, one corner of Meajqa’s mouth tightened in something vaguely resembling a smile.

“Emotional intelligence. I am almost proud. Almost.” Then he let out a sigh. “Fine. Butnotbecause you tried to threaten me, just to be clear. Because you are a Fey who deserves the same grace given to her as any other, and I don’t believe you deserve to be locked up in this castle.”

I darted across the room to grab my coat, not even allowing myself the time to respond.

“It’s likely that everything is fine,” Meajqa said, as we went to the door. “Communication lines are often disrupted on a battle front. It hasn’t been so long that we need to worry.”

But he did not sound particularly convinced.

CHAPTERFORTY

MAX

Tisaanah clutched the letter so hard that it crinkled in her hands. She didn’t read it aloud, but her form communicated enough. She was nearly doubled over on the bench, reading it over and over again in silence, while Ishqa told us that the Fey had allied with the Threllian Lords on a massive assault against all four of the rebel strongholds.

“I did not expect Caduan to send such extensive Fey support to the Threllians,” Ishqa said quietly. “The fact that he did so shows that he is getting desperate. Which is why I know we have an opportunity.” His gaze fell to her hand—still glowing. “We can follow the wayfinder—”

Tisaanah cut him off. “Did any other messages make it through to the rendezvous point?”

“No.”

“You need to fly over Malakahn when we can.”

“I will.”

Tisaanah muttered a curse under her breath and read the letter again.

Ishqa knelt down before her. “I know this is a great deal to process. But the wayfinder—”

I was offended on her behalf. “Give her a minute,” I snapped. “Let her think, for fuck’s sake.”

Sammerin leaned against the window frame, watching the moonlight-drenched Zagos streets. I joined him.

Brayan had not returned to the inn. He was probably attending to business of some kind, but I’d feel more comfortable if he wasn’t wandering around in Zagos in the middle of the night. The city never slept. It was just as active now, past midnight, as it had been when we arrived.

Sammerin muttered, “That man has walked by four times.”

“Which one?”

“Leather hat.”

I found the man he was referring to—middle-aged, but tall and broad, wearing a brown hat and his hands buried in the pockets of a long jacket. He looked like any other of the ten-million seedy individuals around here.

That is, until he passed the door, and his eyes flicked to us, quickly but intentionally. A split second that set my teeth on edge.

I thought of Brayan’s very public confrontation earlier today, and the way that man had yelled out Brayan’s name—and thus,myname—in the middle of a crowd of Ascended-damned mercenaries.

Fuck.

“I think we should be going sooner than later,” Sammerin said, keeping his voice low. “Where’s Brayan?”

“That’s the question of the fucking day.”

---