I woke up with a start from a dreamless sleep, air sputtering in my throat. Everything assaulted me at the same time: my body, my senses, the memories of everything
that had happened at the Estate—
“Take deep breaths.” It took me a moment to become aware of a presence at my side, a low, calming voice murmuring soothing instructions. “Careful, careful. Don’t take all in too fast. In, out.”
A hand moved over my back in time with the commands.
Soon, my breath and heartbeat slowed.
I was in a small but well-furnished bedroom. One look at the furniture told me that I was still in Threll— probably somewhere expensive. But that was the last thing I was thinking about. I whipped my head around to look at Sammerin, who sat at the edge of my bed.
Sammerin. Looking at Sammerin made me think of Max, and thinking of Max made me think of the way he had looked the last time I saw him, the depth of his wounds—
“Max,” I blurted out. “Is he—?”
“He was in worse shape than you were, but he’s fine. He’s still unconscious, but that’s to be expected and probably the best way for him to heal, considering how he
abuses his body when he’s awake.” His voice sounded like the earth, comforting and stable even through that quip.
“I want to see him.”
“You will. How are you feeling?”
My head throbbed. The room spun. But when I looked down at my palms, there was no trace of the burns that had almost covered me. “Awful, but alive.”
“To be expected.” He stood, crossing his arms as he gave me a searching stare. “From what I hear, you went through quite a lot.”
Images flashed through my mind. The flames, both blue and red, the rot, Max going up in fire — Gods, that was something that warranted more discussion — and of course, Reshaye—
Reshaye.
With a start, I paused and searched my mind for it. I found nothing. No movement, no whispers, no sign of it within the web of my thoughts. This was not totally surprising, considering how Reshaye disappeared shortly after a large display of magic. It was probably just as exhausted as I was.
And I wanted the break. Needed it. Who knew what I would face when it returned.
My head swam with questions. “Where are we?”
“The Mikov estate. One of the guest houses.”
I must have looked visibly alarmed, because Sammerin quickly added, “The Orders have taken power here now that the Mikov line has ended.”
“The Orders took power?” I rubbed my temple. That was odd. Why would the Orders have any claim to the city? And why would they want it?
“I don’t entirely understand it, either. From what I’ve heard, it sounds like they made some wise investments in the land and wealthy businessmen here, so when Ahzeen was killed—”
“They bought the city?”
We stared at each other in silence for a moment. My jaw worked.
“I find it suspicious, too,” Sammerin said at last, quietly. “And the slaves?”
As long as the slaves were freed, I didn’t care what happened to the Mikovs’ wretched city.
“We have them.” He gave me a small, quiet smile. “I would call this a successful journey. And… there is someone here who is extremely anxious to see you.” Sammerin went to the door, then paused, fingers on the handle, and turned back to me.
“You did well, Tisaanah.”
My eyes dropped to the bedspread. “Everything went wrong.”
“Almost,” Sammerin said, “But not quite.” “I’m sorry that you had to experience this.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not. Perhaps I was a bit concerned in the middle part. But some things are worth it.”
He motioned to the door, raising his eyebrows as if silently asking, May I?
I nodded, my heart crawling to my throat.
Sammerin left the room. I let my eyes drop down to my hands.
Until I heard footsteps. “Tisaanah.”
Gods, it had been so long since I had heard my name said like that— with the sharp lilt of my mother tongue.
I watched my fingers clasp around each other, the image blurring.
Two more footsteps, approaching the bed. “Tisaanah.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, for so many reasons.
Because I knew my heart would just combust when I saw him.
Because I took so long to come back for him.
Because he saw me at my worst in that ballroom, saw my failure, saw the monster that Reshaye made of me.
“Look at me.”
Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.
Warm fingers tilted my chin, just as they had on that terrible day seven months ago.
And just as they had on that day, clear blue eyes greeted me like a gulp of water in the middle of a desert.
Serel smiled at me, and something inside of me split open. I threw myself against him and buried my face into his tanned neck, into skin that smelled like my home, into an embrace that felt like dreams solidified.
And with all my body and soul, I wept.
