Page 203 of Mother of Death and Dawn

Nura said nothing.

I glanced at Meajqa, whose arms were crossed tightly across his chest, as if he wasn’t sure what he would do with his hands if he freed them. It looked like remaining uninvolved physically pained him.

“It is in your best interest to just give us this information,” Caduan said calmly. “Because we are going to get it, and the only thing up for debate is how much you suffer before we do.”

When she still was silent, Caduan beckoned to Meajqa.

Meajqa frequently smiled, though they often seemed shallow. Not this. This was a smile of genuine delight.

He perched on the stool before Nura, bearing that beautiful grin. He asked, in heavily accented Aran, “Do you remember me?”

Nura’s shield cracked, a single fissure of fear falling across her face.

“I hope you are flattered. I learned this language only so I could speak to you one day. So I could hear what you say. Because I remembereverything.” The stump of his missing wing twitched. “I remember when you took this. Do you?”

At last, she spoke. “You came onto my land. You threatened my people.”

Meajqa’s smile withered to a sneer. “I was injured. I never meant to enter your land. I did not even know it was yours.”

“I saw you,” she spat. “I saw visions of what would come to us by your hands. I have no regrets about what I’ve done.”

Caduan said, coldly, “Tell us where our people are.”

Nura answered, just as coldly, “No.”

Caduan cast the faintest glance in Meajqa’s direction. I hadn’t even seen the knife until he was bringing it down, hard, on Nura’s hand.

She let out a shocked, wordless cry. But Meajqa wouldn’t let her pull her hand away, grabbing her wrist as he brought the blade down again to finish the cut. Blood spurted over his face.

He smiled down at Nura’s small finger, which remained on the table after he released her. Her whole body trembled as she cradled her hand, glaring at us.

“Do you know how much it hurts to lose a wing?” Meajqa said. “One finger is nothing in trade.”

“Fine,” Nura snarled. “Take it. You’re right. A finger is nothing. You have no idea what I’ve already sacrificed to stop you.”

She lifted her chin as she said this, like a marble statue, and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. She made her actions sound so selfless. The torture of innocents. The murder of children. All wrapped up in her noble causes.

My laugh made Nura look to me for the first time. A petty part of me so enjoyed her attention. I stepped out from the shadows.

“Aefe,” Caduan hissed, but I ignored him.

As the light fell across my face, her brows lowered in confusion, which delighted me. She would not recognize my face. But some part of her, some intangible sense, knew what I was.

“What are you?” she whispered.

“You don’t recognize me?” I chuckled. “I recognize you, Nura. You may claim that your desires are selfless. But you can not lie to me about that jagged steel mind of yours.”

“Who—”

I leaned close to her, giving her a good look at me.

“Aefe,” Caduan whispered again, more sharply, and again I ignored him.

“I saw so much of you,” I whispered, a soft snarl, “those nights when you tried to force me into you, night after night.”

The realization shattered Nura’s composure. “Reshaye.”

No. I wasn’t no one. Not anymore. “My name is Aefe. My body and my mind belong only to me, now.”

---