Page 140 of Mother of Death and Dawn

We reached the foot of the palace. “What do you sense?” Caduan asked.

I felt… something. A strange sensation, like a buzzing in the air that skittered over my skin. I could barely grasp it.

Caduan watched my uncertainty, then took my hand and pressed it to my own chest.

“Just listen,” he murmured.

I closed my eyes.

At first, nothing. But I fell deeper—into my own heartbeat. Deeper still, into what lay beneath, into the parts of me that were scarred remnants of what I once was.

There. I grasped a faint thread, tugging me forward. I knew that connection. Of course I would recognize those I had once shared a soul with.

When I opened my eyes, I knew exactly where we needed to go.

I pointed ahead—to the series of arches that led down, down, down, beneath the palace. “This way.”

“My king!” We turned to see Luia frantically urging her horse through the wall of soldiers. Her next words came between panting breaths. “Human troops are approaching from the west side of the city.”

“Human troops?” Caduan pressed.

“Arantroops.”

I stopped breathing.

“That human bastard,” Meajqa muttered. “He sold the information to the Arans before he even came to us.”

“It makes no difference.” Caduan regarded the soldiers. “We came here ready to fight, did we not?”

A ripple of agreement shivered through the crowd.

That was all Caduan had to say to them—there were no battle cries, no rallying calls, no screams of bloodlust. Yet, the desire for warfare grew so thick I could taste it in the air—taste it on my own tongue, because I too was ready for blood.

Caduan turned and nudged his horse ahead.

“Lead us,” he said to me.

I reached deep into my mind, closed my fingers around that thread of connection to the magic beneath, and complied.

CHAPTERFORTY-NINE

TISAANAH

Had this place been a shrine once? A church? The water grew deeper, to my knees and then to my thighs, warm as bathwater. There were no fish, no algae, no bugs. The water was smooth and dark as black glass.

I ventured deeper. The palace had partially collapsed over these swamps, creating a crumbling ceiling of beautiful marble and silver ahead from the remnants of those fallen walls, braced upright by the arches that marked my path.

My hand felt as if it was on fire. It shone just as brightly, too—bright enough to light my route. My head pounded, my vision blurry.

Distantly, far above, the sound of fighting echoed, growing louder with each passing moment. But so much stronger than the sounds was thefeeling. I couldfeelthe deaths above, just like I could feel the emotions of others when my magic was at its strongest, as if every sensation was amplified down here.

Suddenly, the trickle of magic that I had been following became a gushing stream, threatening to drown me.

The light in my hand went out. Darkness swallowed me whole.

I tried to steady my shaking breaths. Fear fell over me.

{Hello, little butterfly.}

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