Chapter no 49

Daughter of No Worlds

spent the night practicing the movements that I had brushed in the sparring ring, running my muscles over

them again and again until I absorbed them into the core of my memory. Sleep held no appeal, even though I was exhausted. I thought, that after dragging myself across the ocean while I was actively dying, I knew what it was to be tired. No, that was nothing. This exhaustion drew from my soul.

Reshaye felt it too, apparently. It was silent. Good.

Max returned to my room after Sammerin left. He had his own quarters here, but he remained in mine, slumped in an armchair, critiquing my movements until his eyelids fluttered. Eventually, he was just a heap of limbs, head tipped back, snoring slightly — like his body had simply ceased to function.

We did not speak again about what had happened today, and for that, I was grateful.

I much preferred to think about the fact that, in mere days, I could see Serel again. Could have him back with me, safe.

If he was alive.

If I could find him.

If I could do any of it in the exceptionally narrow span of time that I had at my disposal, or with the exceptionally limited resources, and, of course, with the exceptionally unpredictable factor of Reshaye.

If, if, if.

Somewhere in the small hours of the morning, I put down my sparring stick and went to the window, pressing my fingers against the cool glass. My room was not at the top of the Towers, but it was certainly high enough to loom far above the ground. The Capital spread out beneath me like a toy replica, reduced to distant streetlights and blocks of impersonal moonlight. Even in the darkness, the Palace glittered in the distance, reflecting light that did not exist

— or perhaps it reflected the flames that still glowed like fireplace embers along the outskirts of the city

I wondered if Nura and Zeryth were still out there, controlling the damage.

I wondered if lives were still slipping through their fingers, even now.

{Beautiful.} A faint whisper furled around my thoughts, shivering up my spine. {I forgot how beautiful it could be.}

My heart stilled.

I checked the threads of my mental web, preparing to push Reshaye back out if I needed to.

What? Engage, distract.

{The world. The air. Freedom. Fire. All those stories.}

I found it — faint, tired, weak, clinging to a few delicate strings.

{You treasure freedom as much as I do. No one desires it more than someone who has never had it.}

I felt it shuﬄe through my memories again. Memories of Esmaris the first day he met me, of the way his gaze unwrapped me like a gift.

Tomorrow we travel to my old home. You and I will give

freedom to many people who have never had it, just like us.

{Threll.}

Yes.

{I knew that place, once.}

Again, the memory of grass against my hands.

Backwards. Forwards. Again and again.

{Did you know that they locked me up for so many years? I had nothing, no one. I do not know how long. Many years. You would think it would be nothing for me. But even though I have lived so many lifetimes, I felt every second of it. They tried to give me many other bodies, many other homes. But I hated them. They felt like nests of broken steel.}

Its hiss raked down the back of my neck, then softened into a writhing caress.

{Not you, though. You are silk.}

I had to choke back my revulsion.

But I found myself asking, What were you? Before?

{I do not remember. Now I am only pieces of many things. Incomplete.}

Its pain rang out in my chest, a mournful, empty cry.

I am, too.

Fragments. Fragments of a Valtain, born of a country that no longer exists, bound to an Order that only partially accepts me.

{I know. Perhaps we will make each other whole,

Tisaanah, Daughter of No Worlds.}

Perhaps. The lie took everything I had.

{What a beautiful broken butterfly you are.}