Page 246 of Mother of Death and Dawn

The others followed suit, a wave of glinting light cresting as the spectators raised their weapons—swords, axes, daggers. People raised brooms and hoes. They raised scarves and hats. Eyeglasses. And those who had nothing simply raised clenched fists to the sky.

No one cheered. No one shouted. But this—this swelling wave of silent, mournful solidarity—seemed more meaningful than any applause ever would.

I met Max’s eyes and raised Il’Sahaj, crimson butterflies unfurling from its blade and rising to the horizon.

And Max was the last to move. He looked out over the crowd, his throat bobbing. He raised his spear. The flames at its length matched the red of the sky, bright and true as a promise.

CHAPTERNINETY-NINE

AEFE

Idid not know how long I remained there, in the corpse of my old life. The sun cast its pattern across the room too many times to count. Eventually, I heard footsteps. I did not move as they approached. These were lighter even than Meajqa’s, as if they belonged to someone who had been trained their entire life to leave as little a mark upon the world as possible.

The footsteps came closer until I heard them behind me. And then I felt someone lower themselves onto the edge of my bed. Felt a gentle, delicate touch on my shoulder.

Orscheid, I thought.

A dream, I thought.

“My poor love.”

I rolled over to see my mother’s beautiful face looking down at me.

I was not expecting this. It was enough to jerk me from my dreamlike fog.

“You are not real,” I blurted out.

She gave me a sad smile. “I am.”

She looked so different. She was still lovely, yes, but she had aged, streaks of barely-there silver in her hair, faint pinches at the corners of her features. And her eyes… no longer did they look straight through me, as if to a dreamworld a thousand miles beyond. They were clearer, sharper—and now, filled with sadness.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I sat up.

“Why are you here? How did you find me?”

“Meajqa is worried about you.”

I lurched away from her outstretched hand.

I still could not wrap my mind around the fact that she was here. I could not reconcile this woman with the mad, meek creature from my memories.

“When he told me you lived… I…” Her eyes lifted and drifted around the room, as if chasing ghosts. “I would not wish it upon even my greatest enemies. To outlive your children.” Her gaze fell back to me, tenderness flooding it. “I cannot describe what seeing you makes me feel. My poor, lost daughter.”

This time, I let her touch me. Her hands were warm and soft, as I remembered them. Some primal piece of me craved my mother’s love. Even all those years ago, her affection had been barely a memory, lost with the decline of her withering mind.

“You have always had such a tender heart, my love. Even when you were just a child, I feared what the world might do with it.”

I let my eyelids flutter closed, let myself sag against her touch. I was so tired. Everything hurt.

I wanted nothing more than I wanted to feel safe. And here, beneath my mother’s caress, I was an innocent child again. There was nothing she could not protect me from. The world had not yet hurt me. Five hundred years had yet to sink their teeth into my soul.

I tried to breathe, and the inhale became a jagged sob.

“Oh, my love.” How easily I accepted her embrace. I fell against her. “I have failed you,” she murmured into my hair. “I am so sorry. I have failed you, Aefe.”

You have. You failed me.

“Orscheid,” I choked out.

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