Page 20 of Mother of Death and Dawn

My other hand curled into a fist of frustration.

“Whatever this thing is, I don’t think it’s a weapon,” I said. “At least not one that is powerful enough.”

Powerful enough to break into Ilyzath.

I didn’t need to say that part aloud—not to Sammerin. He knew that Max’s imprisonment dominated my every thought. These last few months had been a brutal balancing act. The rebellion needed me. I gave them every part of myself that I could offer. I gave them my steadfast leadership, my scraps of magic, my dreams for the future, my plans, my diplomacy.

But there was so much I couldn’t give them, because half my heart was trapped in a prison hundreds of miles away.

Sammerin’s deep brown eyes flicked up to me with wry amusement. “You say that,” he said, “but we both know that you’ll try, anyway.”

I chuckled.

He was right. In here, with Sammerin, I could speak my doubts. But out there, I would keep them locked away. I would relentlessly learn about this thing that had attached itself to me, and I would tell myself and everyone else that I would use it to free Max, and I would refuse to accept any alternative.

I did not dignify uncertainty aloud.

“You’re right,” I said.

“I always am.”

“And I have always known it.”

“Smart woman. Certainly too smart for Max.”

The sound of his name sucked all the air out of the room. Sammerin’s smile faded. He didn’t meet my eyes.

I frowned. There was something odd about that expression.

But before I could say anything, the door to the tent opened, and Serel and Filias entered.

“Whew, that looks better than it did an hour ago,” Serel said in Thereni, brightly. He kissed the top of my head. “Good. That must’ve hurt.”

“Glad you got out safe.” Filias peered at my hand. “So. This is it.”

I nodded. I had told Serel and Riasha about the artifact when I had arrived back at camp.

“Ishqa will help us learn more about it once he returns,” I said. “Surely it’s powerful, if the Fey are so desperate for it. It will be valuable for the rebellion. And to use against Ilyzath.”

I had done exactly what Sammerin knew I would. Confidence, after all, was my only defense.

But Serel and Filias were oddly silent. They exchanged a long, meaningful look. They had been giving each other a lot of those looks, lately—like they had a language all their own. Serel hadn’t talked to me about it yet, but the attraction between them was obvious.

This, though… this was not lovestruck gazing.

I glanced between them. “What?”

Serel sat in the chair across from me, his blue eyes deep with concern.

“There’s something that we need to talk to you about.”

A pit formed in my stomach.

“It’s been five months,” Filias said. He stood awkwardly, his hands bracing on the back of Serel’s chair. “Three since the night you almost—”

“—Since we started sending battalions to Ilyzath,” Serel cut in, a little too sharply, shooting Filias a disapproving stare.

My mouth had gone dry. I nodded.

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