Page 201 of Mother of Death and Dawn

He said, “Now I understand.”

“What?”

“How you could do it.” At my confused stare, he touched the corner of his eye. “This. I noticed your eyes were different. I didn’t realize why.”

“I… it’s…” One would think by now I’d have a better way of describing it. “The Orders did it to me, during the Ryvenai War.”

“Hm.” He awkwardly looked away. Brayan had never been comfortable with the existence of my magic, and this only made it more difficult for him to understand. He preferred a straightforward world.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Has Nura been found?”

“No. She’s either dead and buried somewhere beneath wreckage, or she escaped, or…”

Or captured. I hoped she was dead. If she wasn’t, what was coming next would be worse.

Brayan continued to pick through the broken planks of wood. “I went after her,” he said. “During the invasion. She asked me to join her, again.”

I stopped moving and turned back to him. “And?”

Brayan looked at me like I was stupid. “Obviously, I didn’t. But she said something… strange.” He furrowed his brow and turned back to his work. “She said something about that day. She said that I didn’t know what they had died for.” The wrinkle deepened. “What do you think that means? It’s such an odd thing to say. Do you think we missed something?”

He sounded hopeful. Fucking hopeful.

“Nura would say anything, if she thought it would help Ara,” I said, carefully. “She’s desperate.”

Brayan’s face hardened, but then he sighed. “You’re right.”

It was probably the only time in thirty years that Brayan had uttered those words to me, and it was… because of this.

I couldn’t bring myself to even look at him for a long moment. When I finally did, he was staring into the distance in deep, serious thought.

“You know…” He frowned. “I’ve never fought with anyone like this before.”

“Like this?”

“People who are… well, really fighting for something.” He jabbed his thumb to a cluster of dancers further down the street, and his mouth quirked in an almost-smile. “I never sawthatafter one of my Roseteeth victories.”

Despite myself, I chuckled. “The great Brayan Farlione, discovering the heart beneath the warfare. Who would have thought?”

That fleeting smirk disappeared, replaced with a disapproving shake of the head. He turned back to his work, and I decided to quit while I was ahead.

* * *

Later,I checked back in on Serel in Tisaanah’s stead. He was no longer asleep, now perched on the edge of his bed. His arm was in a sling—Sammerin had had to heal it in phases since it was a complex break. He simply sat in the dark, in silence, completely still.

When I opened the door to see this, I apologized and backed away.

“No,” he said, giving me a weak smile. “Come.” He spoke in poor Aran.

“Just seeing how you are,” I said, in Thereni, and his smile grew slightly.

“Your Thereni is better, you know. I meant to say that earlier.”

I scoffed. “Only a small bit.”

“Tisaanah probably only taught you the bad words.”

This was true. I tried my best Thereni approximation of, “Fuck yes she did,” which earned a hoarse chuckle from Serel.

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