Page 232 of Mother of Death and Dawn

People like to say that there’s catharsis in speaking the truth out loud, as if some weight is lifted in the act of discarding a lie for an ugly reality.

That, I decided in this moment, was not true at all.

I watched a muscle twitch in Brayan’s throat.

“You are telling me,” he said, quietly, “that the last thing they saw wasyou?”

He stalked closer, slowly.

“You are telling me that youmurdered our family?”

His voice rose, step by step, with each word.

“No,” Tisaanah said. “Reshaye did. He had no control over it.”

True or not, it seemed like such a pathetic excuse. I’d examined all the angles of my guilt countless times, and there were many. Maybe there was nothing I could have done to stop Reshaye in those moments, but there was plenty I could have done to keep myself away from that situation entirely.

My back slammed against the wall. Brayan pinned me, his arm against my throat. He was always so carefully controlled. When his emotions spiraled out of control, it wasn’t a slow rise, it was an explosion.

“You let me believe a lie for ten years,” he snarled. “You let me believe that I killed those bastards, when really, it was you— it was you that—”

“There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t said to myself, a million times over.” My voice was slightly raspy, and I had to force it out through the pressure of Brayan’s forearm. “I would have done anything to erase that moment. Anything.”

“You let me believe that there had beenjusticefor this.”

Justice. I’d wanted that too, for so long. I thought if I died in the slums of Meriata, maybe something would be set right in the universe. Maybe some debt would be repaid.

Brayan’s eyes shone, and I realized he was close to tears.

“There was never going to be justice, Brayan,” I said, quietly. “No matter who you killed for it. I meant everything I said when I told you that nothing was ever going to make it make sense.”

“You— You—” He discarded words and abruptly left me, leaving me catching my breath. He went to the door, and when he turned again, his sword was drawn.

“Get your weapon.”

He looked every inch the renowned warrior of Ara, the golden son. And yet, I pitied him. His whole life had been built around a set of unquestionable truths, and chief among them was that there was no problem that could not be solved with a firm hand or a sharp blade.

“I’m not going to fight you.”

Brayan lunged anyway.

Tisaanah was in front of me immediately, her hands up and magic ready, prepared to shield me before I could stop her.

Brayan didn’t hesitate before he readjusted, dodged her blow, grabbed her arm, and wrenched her out of the way.

That was it.

Fire roared to life at my hands, and then I had Brayan flung against the wall. The red light of the fire flickered across his face, emphasizing every line of hatred.

“Don’t youdaretouch her.”

“Or what? What will you do? Kill your last brother?”

We all had the same eyes, my siblings and I, so dark they were almost black. Mine had looked just like theirs before Reshaye had altered them. Now, the darkness of his acted as a mirror to the flames, begging me to take the challenge.

He wanted me to fight him, because that was all he knew how to do. It was the only way he knew how to deal with pain.

I let my magic fall away and stepped back.

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