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520 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 7, 2020
My name is Tisaanah. I am a free woman and yet still a slave. I am fragments of many things but a whole of only myself. I am a daughter of no worlds, and all worlds.
And I am not done yet.
“I was too young to know the truth then. That victory meant another’s defeat, and sometimes our own defeat. That winning meant sacrifices, and sometimes ones that even our own people were not willing to make. That in war, someone always paid.”
I wanted him in so many ways. As a friend, as a kindred soul, as a fierce teammate. As skin and lips and teeth. As a hitched breathless moan in the darkness or a lazy embrace in the sunrise. I wanted that. I wanted it all.
My Aran improved dramatically. Still, every so often, I would unleash a string of truly nonsensical words that butchered every conceivable rule of grammar. On one particularly exhausting day, I committed one such crime when asking Max where the Stratagram ink had gone. (“Has gone where… black water?”)
Max hadn’t so much as paused as he reached into a drawer and produced the ink. At Sammerin’s look of somewhat horrified amazement, he shrugged and said, “After a while, you become fluent in Tisaanah-speak.” And we looked at each other and exchanged a small, proud smile.
I had spent the night cutting myself up into little pieces for consumption, forcing people to acknowledge me, thrusting my pain into their faces.
“This is not a game, Zeryth,” I said. “I have twenty-seven scars on my back from the night I tried to buy my freedom and Esmaris rewarded me by trying to beat me to death. I was beaten, I was raped, I was almost killed. It is written into my body and soul, just as your guilt in it is written into yours, whether you want to see it or not. But you cannot ignore it. Neither can I. And neither can they, because I will not allow them to.”
“I have to say, Tisaanah, it was worth it to brave my first Order event in the better part of a decade just to see the looks on their faces when you were done with them.”
“I’m not done with them. I have barely begun.”
“Never look back. And never question stepping forward and saying, ‘I deserve to live.’”
“Our bodies asked and answered, ceded to each other, moved with unhindered intuition. Together, we burned.”
“It’s easy to die for someone,” I said, “but it is so much more valuable to live. I do not give you permission to fail if I fail. Do you understand me?”
When he didn’t answer, I pressed, “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I was too young to know the truth then. That victory meant another’s defeat, and sometimes our own defeat. That winning meant sacrifices, and sometimes ones that even our own people were not willing to make. That in war, someone always paid.”
“Every moment in life was a coin with one dark side and one light. They fell on the ground with one side facing up, but the other always lay beneath it, there, but hidden.”
“Still, I didn’t realize. Not when I agreed to let her into my house, or my mind, or my past. Not even when I realized that every time I was without her, I found myself collecting little stories and oddities to tell her about when I saw her again, like stones that I slipped into my pockets.”
“I have nothing else.” And there was no hesitation, no pause, as he stepped closer and said, “You have me.”
He tipped my chin with his finger, turning my face toward him, and said it again.
“Are you hurt, Tisaanah?”
“I was no longer looking at a woman. I was looking at a fucking goddess. A goddess of death and vengeance and utter, indiscriminate destruction.”
“Honestly? I thought he was breathtakingly functional too. He was the most breathtakingly functional thing I had ever seen.”
“I figured you should have something both beautiful and functional, like you.”
He said it so quickly that it almost didn’t register.
I whipped my head around to look at him. “Max,” I breathed, touching my heart with exaggerated awe,
“you think I’m functional?” A dancing smile glinted in his eyes.
“I think,” he said, “that you are breathtakingly functional.”
“Because if I allow myself to be angry, I will never stop.”
°•*⁀➷ My name is Tisaanah. I am a free woman and yet still a slave. I am fragments of many things but a whole of only myself. I am a daughter of no worlds, and all worlds. And I am not done yet.
“But I stand with you until the end. You, Tisaanah. If you wanted to run, I swear we’d find a way out. And if it all goes up in flames, I’ll burn right beside you and it will still be the best thing I—”
“It’s easy to die for someone,” I said, “but it is so much more valuable to live.”
“Don’t let them ignore you, Tisaanah. You’re better than they are. They should be terrified of you. Make them scared. Be angry.”
“The way I look at it,” he said, very solemnly, so quietly that his words slipped into the air like steam, “you didn’t forget what you were. I think you remembered. And I hope no one ever again has the fucking audacity to tell you otherwise.”
The real gift was not the necklace. The gift was a home to come back to.
“Men want power because it makes them feel good. Women want power because it lets us do things.”
“Perhaps we will make each other whole Tisaanah, daughter of no worlds.”
“Men want power because it makes them feel good. Women want power because it lets us do things.”
”My name is Tisaanah. I am a free woman and yet still a slave. I am fragments of many things but a whole of only myself. I am a daughter of no worlds, and all worlds.
And I am not done yet.“
“Don’t let them ignore you Tisaanah. You’re better than they are. They should be terrified of you. Make them scared. Be angry.”
“I will open his throat & lick his blood from your fingers.”(ok slay I guess?)