Page 15 of Mother of Death and Dawn

No better than any of them.

“Come with me, Aefe.” He held out his hand.

I did not move. “Stop calling me that. It is not my name.”

“It was once. Would you like to choose another one?”

My teeth ground. He didn’t understand. Names were for living things. I was not one of them.

“Come,” he said again.

“Where?”

“Let’s do something different. I want to show you something.” When I stared blankly at him, he said, “Unless you would prefer to sit in this room, alone.”

Silence. I closed my eyes again. Caduan let out a long, slow breath.

“Very well,” he said, softly, and began to walk away. “Then sit in this room, alone.”

Alone.

The word twisted a knife in me. I did not want to go with Caduan. And yet, the idea of lying here in my own loneliness for hours more seemed… seemed like agony.

“Wait.” I opened my eyes and sat up. “I will go.”

CHAPTERFIVE

MAX

Iwas taken into the Towers and all the way down to the bottom floor, several levels beneath the earth. I was always brought to the same set of rooms—messy chambers clearly used for research and experimentation, packed with overflowing bookcases and desks and exam tables. When I first started coming here, they were relatively neat, but with every visit their atmosphere grew more frenetic, like the desperation of Ara as a country was seeping into the walls.

When I arrived, the Queen leaned over a cluttered desk, her palms braced at its edge. She wore a white military jacket and slim matching pants. Her silver hair, normally bound in braids, was loose over her shoulders, only the top of it pulled back. The crown was tangled within it, so hopelessly knotted there that she probably couldn’t remove it even if she wanted to.

She straightened. Her face was hard. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and blood soiled her throat and hands, as if she had changed her clothing but hadn’t had time to bathe.

I knew her. Once I’d even known her well. I was certain of this. The memories were gone, but the imprints they left behind remained. Every time I looked at her, I was furious for reasons I didn’t understand.

Then again, I had more than enough reason to hate her for the memories I did have.

“What is this?” She held up a piece of parchment, which bore, scribbled in ink, the same three shapes I always drew. The last time I’d been here, I had scratched them onto a scrap of paper in my delirium, half-out-of-my-mind in the aftermath of the Queen’s experiments.

I said nothing.

“Is it a map?” she asked.

“It must be.” Another voice came from the opposite side of the room, and I stiffened. A thin, elderly Valtain man rose and gave me a magic, chilling grin. “Perhaps some piece of knowledge he stole from his Fey possessor. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Vardir. I hated him, too.

“I’m surprised,” I said.

The Queen cocked an eyebrow. “Surprised.”

“I’m surprised that you’re willing to make it so obvious how desperate you are. Pulling me out here in broad daylight, when you haven’t even had time to wash the blood off yourself. Things are that bad?” I lifted my chin towards the door at the other end of the room. “How many dead volunteers are in there, today?”

She held my stare for a second too long, then looked away. “I need no moralizing from you. War criminals don’t get to lecture me for the measures I take to save my people.”

Fire. Screams. A city of bodies so burnt that families buried only bones and ash.

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