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"I suppose you have."

That voice.

Rissa knew that voice. Amused, detached, soft, cruel, and so very beautiful. It called to her like her own name. "And what are you going to do with me now?"

She tightened her grip on the knife. "Who are you?"

But she knew who the stranger was. She just wanted her to say it.

The thing chuckled and brushed her hand aside, spinning gracefully to face her.

The thing had her dark curls, her mouth, her straight nose, skin of a dark blue marked with silver vines, and dark eyes sprinkled with stars.

"You know who I am, daughter." Her mother, the stranger she hadn't seen since the day she'd been left at Titus's doorstep with a note and a name, grinned, showing sharp fangs. "Your nightmare."

She tightened her grip on the blade. "Did you send the assassins?"

Her mother tilted her head. "Why would I?"

That wasn't an answer, but Rissa didn't care to push for one. "What are you doing here?"

"What can I say?"She shrugged. "Curiosity. There aren't many nightmares in these lands, and I know their taste. You smelled different. I thought it might be you."

"Why would you care?"

"I don't," her mother replied smoothly, not bothering to lie.

Rissa held on to the knife with a death grip, fighting against the desire to release it.

"Well, your curiosity is satisfied, I'm sure. You can go."

Her mother smiled. "I certainly could. I would like to extend you my hospitality this night, however."

Rissa cackled. Hospitality. Her mother wanted to play nice now, after over a hundred years. "You must be joking."

The nightmare shrugged. "It's raining hard. You might enjoy some comfort until the sky is appeased."

"You sent assassins after us."

Her mother sighed. "I sent nothing. This isn't the courts. Assassins do as they please in these lands. You'll be safe in the haven. And dry."

Dry sounded good, drenched as she was, but the thought of accepting anything from this woman made bile rise up her throat.

Rissa's eyes returned to the hammocks. At the end of the day, her preference mattered little. Khal might have died today because of her, and he deserved a night out of this torrent, at the very least.

"Do I have your word I and my companions will be safe through the night?" she worded her request carefully.

"You do, daughter."

"Don't call me that." She didn't want this woman to call her anything. "My name is Serissa. You should remember. You picked it."

The nightmare nodded. "Yes, after the cherry tree. It symbolizes birth and death, beauty and violence. Your legacy."

"You know nothing about me, let alone my legacy."

The nightmare laughed again. Rissa hated how sweet she sounded. "I know everything that matters about who you are, daughter. The stars, your blood, the bones, the tea leaves. Every single seer I came to told me the exact same thing."

"And what's that? That you're a terrible excuse for a mother?"