Page 171 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“Of course I’m staying.”

“I clearly remember a conversation or two where your attitude was more along the lines of, ‘I’m going to Besrith and you can come or not,’ et cetera et cetera.”

“I don’t appreciate being mocked, Max.” He gave me a flat stare over his shoulder. “Do youwantme to go to Besrith?”

That was a complicated question. My new memories—the darkest ones—weighed heavily on me. Heavier than ever, every time I looked at my brother’s face.

“No,” I said. “I’m just saying, there’s nothing ‘of course’ about it.”

“I changed my mind. Are we done?”

“We are done, General.” I gave him a sarcastic salute and turned away.

I made it three steps when Brayan’s voice said behind me, “I thought you would end up back in Ilyzath if you stayed with them. I was trying to…” A pause, then a grumbled, “Never mind.”

I didn’t turn. I couldn’t decide if I was angry that Brayan was essentially confessing that he manufactured the urgency of going to Besrith, or touched that he had done it because he was trying to protect me.

I settled on both. I tucked my hands into my pockets and kept walking without another word. It was always easier for Brayan and me to just not talk about things, anyway.

* * *

On the thirdnight on the road, I dreamed of my family.

I had forgotten how bad the dreams could be. Before, the ghost of grief was there, yes, but the absence of the memory eased the pain of it in so many ways. Ilyzath had shown me their faces every day, but the walls in my mind had protected me from the truth behind that torture.

Now, the wounds were as raw as they were the day it happened. When I dreamed of their faces this time, it skewered me. When I watched them die, it tore me to pieces.

I woke up covered in sweat. Tisaanah’s body curled around mine.

“Wake up,” she murmured in my ear. “You’re dreaming.”

I was, and I wasn’t.

I blinked in the early morning sun streaming through the tent. I kissed Tisaanah’s forehead and then silently extracted myself from her embrace. My whole body was tense, as if cringing for an incoming blow.

“Max…” Tisaanah’s voice behind me was an unspoken question—what’s wrong with you?

I put on my clothes. “It’s just a hard day.”

I didn’t even have to look at a calendar. When there is a day in your past that’sthatbad, you just know.

Tisaanah understood immediately, because of course she did.

* * *

The silenceat breakfast was suffocating. Sammerin knew what day it was, too, and if there was any doubt, the way Brayan almost took his head off over something totally innocuous acted as an apt reminder.

I could barely look at Brayan.

I hadn’t allowed myself to think too hard about the lie I was telling him just by being here. Compartmentalization was a beautiful thing. But it was broken, today. Today, everything was just too big, too loud, too painful to sit inside those neat boxes.

Brayan looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

“We need supplies,” he grunted, in the first words anyone spoke over breakfast.

“There’s a market nearby,” Tisaanah said. “We can go today.”

Her fingers traced mine. She had hardly let go of me all day, like she felt like she was the only thing tethering me to the earth. She may not have been far off.

---