Page 185 of Mother of Death and Dawn

Still…

When we Stratagrammed into the area, and I saw that city for the first time, my throat got suddenly tight. All that color rising up from the smooth gold of the plains, refusing to be silent, refusing to become invisible. It had held against two of the most powerful militaries in the world. Against all odds, it still stood.

This was what Tisaanah had fought so hard for. This was what she had dreamed of when she crawled to the Orders’ steps, half-dead.

“I can’t believe it’s still here,” Sammerin muttered, amazed.

“They withstood the Threlliansandthe Fey here?” Brayan sounded downright awed.

I could have stood there longer just to take it in. But I was acutely aware, in every horrible way, of what Tisaanah was suffering right now. I found myself recalling what Brayan had said about unknowns. A million terrible scenarios looped through my mind, constantly.

“Come on,” I said. “No time to waste.”

The moment we approached, five soldiers at the top of the wall trained arrows on us, shouting down Thereni too fast for me to decipher.

We put our hands up. I glanced at Sammerin and Brayan. “Did either of you get that?”

Nothing.

I sighed and turned back to the guards.

“My name is Maxantarius Farlione,” I called up, in Thereni. “I come to speaking with Filias. He is where?”

I almost certainly butchered that.

The guards glanced at each other warily. The youngest man glowered down at me.

“You’re Aran,” he sneered. “An Aran spy.”

I didn’t have time for this. I probably held one of the most infamous names on this continent or Ara’s. If I was a spy, that made me a fucking terrible one. I would’ve said that, too, if I could speak the language well enough. Instead, I settled for, “Why should I say lies?”

“There are lots of reasons to lie, actually,” Sammerin muttered.

My teeth ground.

“It is for Tisaanah Vytezic,” I shouted, frustrated. “Please.”

It was Tisaanah’s name that made the man’s face change. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by some commotion behind him that I couldn’t see, and he disappeared.

I cursed in frustration.

But then a moment later, a blond head of hair poked up from the wall. A bruised and bandaged Serel leaned over the railing, an enormous grin on his face. “Max! It is you!”

I heaved a sigh of relief. Despite the circumstances, I found myself smiling. That grin of his really was infectious.

“It is indeed. Let me in. We need to talk.” My smile faded to a scowl as the guards scrambled to raise the gates. “By the way, I hear you wanted to leave me to rot in prison?”

* * *

At first,Serel was thrilled, speaking so fast in Thereni that none of us understood a word of it. But when he met us at the gates, I saw the exact moment he realized Tisaanah was not here. He had been ready to take us on a grand tour of the jewel of the rebellion, but when the realization hit him, his face fell and steps faltered, and all of that was abandoned in favor of a single room at the top of Orasiev’s tallest building.

Once, this must have been the study of the Lord that ruled over this estate. The furniture was disgustingly ornate, perched upon luxurious furs and decadent tile mosaics, all framing an expansive view of Orasiev’s skyline. But whereas this room had likely once been all white, now splashes of color had been painted over the walls—the same seven colors that adorned the banners at the wall—and maps and notes and diagrams had been pinned over every surface.

Filias, Riasha, and Serel gathered with us, and in a broken mix of Thereni and Aran I stumbled through telling them what had happened to Tisaanah. Serel barely let me finish before he leapt to his feet.

He and Filias exchanged a knowing look. “The meeting,” Serel muttered, and Filias nodded.

I glanced between them. “Meeting?”

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