Page 161 of Mother of Death and Dawn

He is speaking to us.

Without thinking, I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my own heartbeat.

A power greater than ourselves.

Perhaps we didn’t need gods to find our place in something larger. Perhaps it already existed in us.

When the verses ended, Caduan turned the book to its final page and withdrew a piece of parchment. He unfolded it as he and Meajqa gathered around the ceramic bowl, both looking out to the forest.

And then Caduan began to read names. The first one was Iajqa Sai’Ess. It was, I realized, a list of the dead.

With each name, Meajqa threw a handful of ash into the sky. The ashes swirled against the stars for a moment, as if carried on an unnatural current of wind, dancing before the moon before falling into the trees below.

Caduan just kept reading, and reading, and reading.

The crowd grew so silent it was like we had all stopped breathing.

“Normally this is only a few names long,” Luia whispered, her voice slightly rough.

But Caduan read name after name after name. The floor of the forest must have been covered with ash.

CHAPTERSIXTY-ONE

MAX

We settled in Sammerin’s room, which was the only one large enough to have a sitting area. I was actually surprised to see the blinding sunlight streaming through the curtains. I had lost all perception of time. I wandered about the room, looking for a calendar that I could casually glance at in a way that would tell no one that I’d been so busy sleeping and fucking that I literally didn’t know what day it was anymore.

Not that my subtlety fooled Sammerin, who gave us one look up-and-down and remarked, drily, “I’m glad I had the foresight to make sure my room wasn’t next to yours.”

“So superior. As if you’ve been sitting here all alone like a priest.” I picked up a discarded hair clip from the end table and arched an eyebrow at Sammerin, who shrugged as if to say,Fair enough.

Despite myself, I smiled.

It was strange. I had been traveling with Sammerin for weeks, and yet, the restoration of my memory gave me a new appreciation for my friend. I’d missed him.

Ishqa sat down, unamused. He looked tired.

“Where have you been?” I asked, trying to keep the accusation from my voice and not quite succeeding.

I wasn’t sure why I didn’t trust Ishqa. Was it just because I knew he had betrayed his friend, and that sort of thing, even five hundred years later, bore a mark on his character that I couldn’t shake?

I was self-aware enough to recognize the hypocrisy of that, if so.

“Here.” Ishqa produced a letter and slid it to Tisaanah. “For you.”

Tisaanah’s throat bobbed. She opened it and read silently—and a grin broke out across her face. “Orasiev held.”

“They withstood weeks of onslaught from the Threllian military.”

Tisaanah sagged against the table in relief. “Thank the gods.”

I eyed Ishqa. “So why do you look so unhappy?”

He stared at me just long enough to be unnerving. “Something is different about you.”

“Something is the same again, actually.” I tapped my temple.

His brows rose slightly. “How?”

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