Page 178 of Mother of Death and Dawn

He landed on his feet for a moment and immediately fell to his knees. He was covered in blood. One hand clutched a wet piece of parchment, his Stratagram so messily scrawled on it that I had no idea how it had managed to get him here.

My heart stopped beating.

I leapt to his side. He doubled over, his hand hovering over his head, face contorted in pain. The flesh of his scalp moved very slowly, not enough to close the wound, but enough to lessen the bleeding. It was nearly impossible for a healer to heal themselves. The fact that Sammerin was even able to do this much spoke to his extensive skill.

“Bandages,” I barked to Brayan. “Right now.”

He obeyed, and I pressed handfuls of rags to Sammerin’s wound. His dark eyes flicked to me, and the look was enough to confirm all my worst fears.

“Where?” I bit out. “Where is she?”

Sammerin shoved a shaking hand into his jacket and produced a wad of fabric. I took it from him and uncrumpled it. A bloody sigil of a wolf snarled back at me.

“That’s a Threllian Lord’s sigil,” Brayan said.

“Slavers,” Sammerin wheezed, with great effort. He had now moved to his throat, where he painstakingly attempted to close the gaping cut, stitch by stitch.

“Which one?” I thrust the armband in Brayan’s face. “Who does this belong to?”

“I knew so many back then.” His brow furrowed. “It’s been a long time.”

“You have to remember.”

All I could think, over and over again, was,I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her ever, but not today of all days.

I didn’t go with her because I had been too busy drowning in the past. How was that for poetic justice?

I racked my brain. Tisaanah had so many enemies, especially among the Threllians. But who would have special use for her?

“The Zorokovs,” I said. “Is it theirs?”

Brayan’s eyebrows lurched in realization. “The wolves. Yes. That’s them.”

Sammerin, still unable to speak, nodded.

Blood rushed in my ears, fear and anger rising until it overtook me. There were practically sparks at my fingertips already. I was ready to burn those fucking people to the ground.

Sammerin grabbed my wrist. A silent conversation passed between us.

My jaw tightened until it ached. My knuckles trembled around the armband, the fabric at its edges scorching as my magic responded to my anger.

“I know.” I took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. “I know.”

I couldn’t go after her alone. Not this time, not like I had when she had been locked up in Aviness’s dungeons.

I loved Tisaanah enough to want to tear anyone who threatened her into pieces. But I understood her enough to see what she couldn’t tell me herself.

Tisaanah had her magic back. She was a strong fighter and a stronger Wielder. I knew it because I had taught her, and I had watched her get just as good, if not better, than me. She’d told me of all the time she spent hiding in plain sight in Threllian Lords’ homes. She knew how to do this.

And she was sending us a message. Yes, I could chase after her caravan right now, murder everyone in sight, and bring her home before the cart even reached the gates of the Zorokov estate.

If I did that, she would be furious with me—because that would be a rescue forher. It wouldn’t be a victory foreveryone.

This arm band didn’t say,Here I am. Come rescue me.

It said,Here I am. Bring me an army.

“If we go now,” Brayan said, voice gruff, “We can stop the caravan before she even reaches the Zorokovs’ district.”

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