Page 253 of Mother of Death and Dawn

Under normal circumstances, this was when we’d all devolve into debauchery and celebration, gorging ourselves on food and wine and carefree joy.

Instead, a gust of cold wind cut through the gardens, rustling the leaves. It snatched the red flower from Tisaanah’s hair, sending it spiraling up into the sky to be consumed by rust-grey clouds. With it came the sound of bells, echoing in a mournful call.

We all went silent. The warning came from the eastern lookout tower. No one had to ask what it meant. It meant the celebration was over.

It meant,They are here.

CHAPTERONE HUNDRED THREE

AEFE

Ihad never seen the ocean before. When I stepped onto the ship and looked out to see nothing but water stretching to the horizon, I felt just as small and alone in this body as I had when I first opened my eyes.

But… so much had changed since then. Now I knew why I was here. I was small, but I had purpose burning in the center of my chest. That was enough to make my fear turn to admiration after those first few moments.

That fear, instead, remained for Caduan. His health had declined so rapidly that I now felt so foolish for not realizing sooner how bad it was. He skillfully hid his weakness in casual leaning against rails and walls, in tiny coughs concealed by the back of his hand, beneath shirts that were always buttoned up all the way to his throat.

Still, it was bad enough now that others noticed, even if no one had the courage to comment on it aloud. Perhaps that was why Caduan had limited the number of people on this ship. Me, Meajqa, Luia, a handful of Luia’s most trusted generals, and scant few others traveled with him. The warriors packed the rest of Ela’Dar’s armada. Every single one of our ships had been mobilized.

Caduan told me we did not have time to do this more than once. I knew what he actually meant—thathedid not have time to do this more than once.

The first night, I did not bother even trying to sleep. Instead, I stood at the rail and looked at the ocean beneath the moonlight. It moved like sheets of dancing silver in the darkness. Eventually, Caduan joined me.

“I have never seen the sea before,” I said. “Not in my own body, at least.”

“It fascinates me.”

I thought that if I did not look at him, I wouldn’t see death consuming him. But I flinched as I realized that I could hear it in his voice, now, too.

“There are three great unknowns in this world,” he went on. “The sea is one of them. The undersea goes on for miles. Creatures live beneath it that are bigger than this ship. And those are only the ones that Fey have been fortunate enough to see. We know so little about what lurks beneath it.” I finally allowed myself to look at him, as he gazed to the sky. “Like what lies beyond the stars.”

My chest tightened as I watched him. “Would you have liked to explore it?”

“The sky? The sea?”

“Both.”

“Yes. But even five hundred years has not been enough to conquer every unknown, no matter how much I tried.”

Five hundred years seemed so long when I spent it languishing in a series of broken human minds. And yet so tragically, unfairly short, when Caduan spoke of everything he still wished to do.

He gave me that dismantling stare, the kind that seemed to peer into my thoughts.

“I have no regrets about how I spent my life, Aefe,” he said, softly. “And I still have unknowns to learn as of yet. Perhaps death is the most interesting one of all. There are many worlds beyond this one.”

I thought of what he had said to the dying Fey, what felt so long ago.

“Death is a door,” I murmured.

He gave me a tired smile. “A lifetime of learning has taught me the only constant is that nothing ever truly ends.”

I let out a faint scoff. “Once, that thought would have appalled me. As Reshaye, I was so afraid of endlessness.”

“Not anymore?”

A pause. I did not know how to answer that. “Perhaps. I do not know.”

“When I first met you,” he said, “I thought you were fearless. You were… interesting. Unlike any person I had ever known before.”

---