Page 74 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“Don’t tell me you can’t wield it,” Brayan said, sharply. “I spent fifteen years training you. You can wield anything.”

Was that a compliment?

“I agree,” I said. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Thank you.”

A fragment of memory—Brayan handing me a weapon, very different from this one.Happy birthday.

Gone before I could make sense of it.

“You speak Thereni?” I asked.

“I lived out here for a few years,” he said. “When I was with the company.”

It came back to me after a moment—the Roseteeth Company, a prestigious private army. Right. I did remember, vaguely, Brayan’s time with them. He returned because… was it because the Ryvenai War broke out?

“You fought in…”

“Essaria, mostly. They secured us to help conquer those little nations—Deralin, and all that. I left before they ran out of money and the Threllians turned on them, too.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen a stronger military. The Threllians knew how to win a war.”

A sour taste filled my mouth.

My old memories brightened with spots of color, as if dust was being swept away. The Roseteeth Company was considered prestigious, and Brayan’s position there was a source of great pride for my father, the sort of thing that earned impressed eyebrow-raises from other lords and military leaders. But I remembered now what I used to call it to get under Brayan’s skin—“overpriced mercenaries.”

“How much does it cost to hire someone to conquer a nation for you?” I asked.

He shot me a glare. “I’m so glad that your sense of moral superiority has survived, even if you can’t remember anything else.”

I shrugged. “Just a question.”

He scoffed and nudged his horse into a trot. “It’s better not to talk about those sorts of topics here.”

The sky lit up in brilliant magenta, then violet, and it was all fading into dusk by the time we made it past the outskirts of the city. The main road bent west, following the cost, while a much smaller trail arched north into dense woods.

We halted at the junction.

“Let me guess,” I said. “We should go through the woods and battle mosquitos and wild animals all night instead of staying on this lovely, paved road.”

“The woods go north. We’re going north.”

“Fantastic.”

My horse let out a grunt that echoed my enthusiasm.

“You’re smarter than to complain about going somewhere remote right now,” Brayan said, nudging his horse forward.

I paused a moment longer, looking at the dark trail.

My grumbling aside, I knew Brayan was right—it was in our best interest to stay out of sight right now, and to get out of Threll as quickly as possible. But when I blinked, visions from Ilyzath lingered behind my eyelids—visions of dark forests and the monsters that lurked within them, of reaching hands that looked like they belonged to corpses. Of someone calling me.

I extended my hand and rubbed my fingertips together, calling to magic—calling to flame.

Once I didn’t even have to try. It was another part of me, like a limb. But now, even that tiny request of my magic was met with an impassable wall.

I gave up and reached for the lantern dangling from the saddle instead, pushing my horse forward.

“Oh, please,” I muttered, when my horse released another loud, frustrated groan. “It isn’t that ominous, is it?”

It was indeed that ominous. I think the horse knew it, too.

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