Page 92 of Mother of Death and Dawn

Sammerin drew the last line of his Stratagram.

The spear found its target, right in the gaping wound of the creature’s stomach. It let out a scream and tumbled to the ground. Its cry echoed in my thoughts.

Ishqa pumped his wings one, two, three times, and launched into the sky.

And the world dissolved.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

AEFE

My limbs flailed in frantic, fruitless search for solid ground. I drew in a gasp, only to choke on a lungful of water. It was dark. I could feel nothing, see nothing. Which way was up? Down?

Water. You are in water. Swim, Aefe.

I did not know if my body knew how to swim, but in a disoriented panic I kicked until my face broke the surface. I had never been so grateful for air.

I clumsily swam to shore, dragging myself through thick mud on my hands and knees. I coughed until my ribs ached, mouthfuls of putrid water dribbling past my lips. My head pounded and limbs shook.

For one horrible moment I thought perhaps I had lost my connection to Tisaanah and Maxantarius. I took several deep breaths, stilled my rising worry. As my heartbeat slowed, I found it again—there.

A smile twisted my lips.

Close. They weresoclose.

It was only then that I realized that Caduan wasn’t.

I forced myself to my feet and looked around. Nothing but forest, trees looming over me like shadowy guardians.

“Caduan?” I called out.

My eyes fell to the river. I had pulled myself from a deep but relatively calm section of it, but downstream, multiple tributaries combined into churning rapids dotted with jagged rocks.

What if he had landed in the water, too? What if he had been smashed upon those stones before he even had time to react?

“Caduan?” I called again, more frantically.

I heard voices behind me. Human voices, speaking Aran—a language I recognized immediately.

I spun around. Four humans emerged from the brush. They wore double-breasted jackets bearing a sun sigil.

My heart beat faster.

They spoke to each other—or to me?—in Aran. I knew this language, but it took several long seconds before I could make my mind translate their words.

The oldest of them, a man with a greying beard, was speaking.

“…alright, sweetheart?”

Do not panic.

You are Aefe, not Reshaye. They cannot hurt you. You have your own heart, your own breath.

I counted them in the darkness. Five. I had fought so many more than that.

“You’re not far from a military base,” the man said. “Best you not wander out here alone at night so close to the wall. Folks have been a bit twitchy lately.”

“What the hell is wrong with her?” another soldier muttered.

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