Page 129 of Mother of Death and Dawn

Max said. “I’m staying with you,” at the same moment that I said, “You should go to Besrith.”

His eyebrows lurched. The hurt that split across his face gutted me. “I—what?”

“What?” Sammerin repeated.

“Ishqa was right,” I said, carefully. “It is dangerous for us to stay together. Not only does it mean that we are a single target, it also means that if we were to get captured, Nura would have too much at her disposal. She will have a greater reach in Threll than in Besrith. It will be safer for you. And you, as Brayan said, can help deal with the mercenaries.”

All of these very logical reasons tasted like ash on my tongue.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Tisaanah…” Sammerin murmured.

“There is no arguing with it,” I snapped. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Max looked stunned, then angry. “What if I refuse?”

“That would be foolish,” Ishqa said.

“It would be foolish to run away,” Max shot back. “I’m not running away.”

“No, you aren’t,” I said. “We need you there.”

“I—”

“Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. You don’t even know who I am.” I spoke more harshly than I had intended. The words felt like razors coming up my throat.

They stopped Max in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

The expression on his face reminded me of a memory that I held, and he did not—the memory of the day I stood on the steps of the Towers and told him I would not leave with him. The same hurt. The same shock.

It killed me. Gods, it killed me.

“I do,” he said. “I know you.”

My chest ached. I shook my head. “When the road splits, we need to separate.”

Muffled voices rang out far, far in the distance. We all shut up and looked back towards Zagos. Dawn was still hours away. Brayan’s warning took on a new urgency.

A muscle twitched in Brayan’s eyebrow, as if to say,See? Didn’t I tell you?

“We’re going to have two dozen hunters on us in an hour,” he said. “We need to move.”

* * *

Sammerin pulledme aside the moment he had the chance. “Why did you do that?” He didn’t raise his voice, but I could hear the hidden undercurrent in it—a shrouded tone that said,What the hell is wrong with you?

I wouldn’t look at him. “It’s the best thing for him.”

“That’s not for you to decide. Tisaanah—stop walking.”

He grabbed my wrist, gently but hard enough to turn me to face him. I expected to see anger and frustration in his stare, but it held only sadness.

I couldn’t have this conversation. This was too difficult.

“I know you by now,” he said, quietly. “I know exactly why you’re doing this. You told me once that Max told you he wanted to spend his life with you, and you didn’t give him an answer. Why?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and looked away.

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