Page 139 of Daughter of No Worlds

One terrible second of silence, a wave of fury cresting, cresting…

{Then you could love one more.}

The room plunged into darkness, and Reshaye thrust out my hand to receive Il’Sahaj as it flew across the room.

No.

Max twisted my wrist, flipping me onto my back, sending spirals of agony up my arm and through the back of my head as it cracked against the floor. But Reshaye didn’t react, still ready for that blade—

Its gleeful rage tasted like blood on my tongue.

Stop!I threw myself one more time against the wall that separated me from my muscles —

And realized, all at once, that my mind was not a room. No, I had forgotten: it was a web.

I was not contained. I could goup.

My fingers closed around Il’Sahaj’s hilt, straining as I raised it.

I crawled up the threads of my mind, inhaling them back into myself. I followed the paths that were dipped into darkness. Reshaye.

My arm lifted.

And just as my body had prepared to bring down Il’Sahaj’s blade across Max’s throat, I dropped a razor across all of those infected threads of thought, severing Reshaye from my mind.

It let out a screech that clawed through my entire body, so consuming that it blinded me.

A crash.

My breath careened into my lungs as if I had fallen from a great height. And the light, which returned all at once, slapped me across the face.

I turned my head to see Max pushing himself up from the ground, Il’Sahaj on the floor beside him. My wrist was bent at a sickening angle, but I was grateful for the pain, grateful for the way it tethered me to my body.

“Tisaanah.” My name was a ragged sigh of relief on Max’s lips, so low it took me a moment to recognize it. He pressed his forehead against mine and said it again, as if he didn’t realize he was speaking aloud.

For a moment, the sheer horror of what I had almost done paralyzed me. Gods, I had almost— that blade had been so close,so close, to his neck.

We were both shaking. I braced my palm against his face with my good hand, then my eyes landed on his throat — the one trickle of blood beneath his jaw. And then, three odd, gruesome purple-black finger marks at his shoulder.

What was that? A burn? I pushed back the torn fabric of his shirt, prompting a sharp breath through his teeth.

No, not a burn, not quite…

A low whistle cut off whatever poor attempt I was about to make at words.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Max and I pulled apart. I used my intact hand to push myself upright. Zeryth leaned in the doorway, gazing at us with one curious eyebrow cocked.

“Last time I saw you two, the mood seemed a little gruesome for this sort of thing, but then again, I suppose the threat of mortality can have that effect on people.”

Before Max could let loose his inevitable snapping response, and before I could even begin to explain what had just happened, Nura appeared beside Zeryth. The somber look on her face froze the words in my throat.

“Get up. We don’t have time to mess around anymore.” Her voice hitched, ever-so-sightly, as she said, “The Capital has been attacked, so we need to get your contract underway. We leave for Threll at dawn.”

* * *

I barely spoke,barely allowed myself to breathe as Max and I followed Nura and Zeryth down the static white hallways of the Tower of Midnight. My hands still shook, and I clasped them together to hide it. Even Max was uncharacteristically silent. Easy enough to pass off as shocked silence in response to what Nura was telling us. Which, to be fair, was deserving of it.

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