Page 59 of Mother of Death and Dawn

That was enough for me. I uncorked the vial and shot it back in one gulp, an act I immediately regretted. It felt like swallowing fire.

“I am not sure how humans will react to it,” Ishqa said, somewhat thoughtfully. “It gives us terrible stomach cramps.”

How nice. I tucked the vial away, then, yet again, thrust my hand out. “What is this, Ishqa?”

“It is a…” He paused, as if uncertain of which word to choose. “Wayfinder.”

“A wayfinder?”

“A tool. A compass. A key that leads to other things.”

“What other things?”

Ishqa was terrible at this. What was it about six-hundred-year life spans that made one so frustratingly bad at communication?

“You are aware of how magic works,” he said. “That it is like rivers running beneath our world, different streams of different substances. Solarie magic, Valtain magic, and our Fey magic.”

“And the deeper levels beneath them,” I added.

Ishqa nodded.

“Yes. The deep magic that is still connected to you, even if that connection had been severed and stitched over. The very same magic that your lover drew from, that… Reshaye drew from.”

He rarely spoke of Reshaye—of Aefe—by name. He never seemed to know which term to use.

“But,” he went on, “magic is far more complicated than those four levels. None of us know how many different streams lurk beneath the surface of our world, or what they are capable of. Even the extensive modifications that humans and Fey have done to tap into deeper streams merely allow us to reach a fraction of what exists. And for many years—millennia—the Fey had no interest in learning more about those powers. The humans, at least, always strove to innovate. We… thought such things were blasphemous and unnatural. That is, until Caduan took power. He saw how we could use magical innovations to strengthen our civilization and help our people—end hunger, cure illness, even advance art and music.”

Despite all that had happened, when Ishqa spoke of Caduan, there was a tinge of admiration to his voice.

“Five hundred years ago, when the humans were slaughtering our people, they were doing it because they were searching for power. Specifically, they were searching for mythical pools of deep magic—which we now know as Lejaras. They did not understand what, exactly, they were looking for, only that it was a power strong enough to win their own wars. And when they…” His voice stumbled. “…When they found another option, in Reshaye, they ceased their search. They had the power they needed. But that does not mean that the legends they were searching for did not exist. Caduan pursued knowledge relentlessly during his reign, and the Lejaras were no exception.”

I pieced together what he was saying.

“And this thing,” I said, “is a way to find these… these pools of magic.”

“We believe so. Over these last few months, Caduan’s drive for the pools was reinvigorated. While I was in Caduan’s inner circle, we had not been able to locate them. But we knew that we could if we hadthat.”

I looked at my hand. The mark didn’t feel like a compass or a key. It just felt like some metal stuck to my skin.

“So now what do we do?”

“These powers cannot fall into Caduan’s hands,” Ishqa said. “Not under any circumstances. And while I may not know exactly what you hold, why it reacted to you as it has, or how we use it, I know that it’s key to the Fey finding and harnessing these powers. Locating them before they do may be our only chance at defeating Caduan.”

“You propose that we go use it ourselves. Just us.” Sammerin looked unconvinced.

Ishqa gave him a cold stare. “Imagine what this war would be if either side came into possession of such power. Caduan, who wants nothing more than to wipe out your kind for good. Your human queen, who has already shown that she is willing to burn down the world to protect her country. Imagine what the world would be, if either of them—or worse,bothof them—had the power to literally shape reality. We don’t need to use it. Perhaps it would be better if we destroyed it, even. But we certainly need to keep it from them.”

Sammerin was quiet, clearly unsettled by the future Ishqa painted. It unsettled me, too. I had seen what Nura was willing to do to win her wars. And though I did not know the Fey king beyond what Ishqa had told me, I had seen what he had done to Ara, had seen the monsters he created. I hadfelthis fury when I reached into Max’s mind to sever the connection he had built there.

Ishqa was right. If either of them obtained that kind of devastating power, the world may very well end.

But that wasn’t my first thought.

My first thought was of a stone prison off the Aran shores. I was thinking about walls I hadn’t managed to break, no matter how hard I tried. And I was thinking of how much easier it might be if I had such a power.

I was so, so selfish—and I didn’t even care.

You were the one that wanted to save the world. I just wanted to save you.

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