A Day of Fallen Night (The Roots of Chaos #0.1)

by Samantha Shannon

Her name was Dumai, from an ancient word for a dream that ends too soon.

‘Mother, be still. We are your daughters,’ she said softly. ‘We remember. We remain.’

Daughters, the voice said. From the moment when they stirred in our wombs, they possessed us. We made them, knowing they would leave us, but their flesh was ours, at first, and we can never let them go.

‘May she keep your blade sharp and your heart full of fire,’ the Priory answered, ‘and may your name strike terror into that which must remain unnamed.’

‘We do great and terrible things for our daughters.’

Do not be afeared. The Mother’s words filled her mind. You are the very sun made flesh.

If women are flowers, we are not roses, but day’s eyes – blooming not once, but over and over, each time the light touches us.’

You are more than I could ever have dreamed.

‘I have waited all my life for you, Noziken pa Dumai.’

That night, long ago, Unora of Afa had swallowed a star, so her daughter could give birth to one.

‘You are a sun to people like Canthe. It is your nature to warm all you see, and the sun does not ask forgiveness for shining.’

‘History may record the end of my line as a tragedy,’ the Grand Empress said, ‘but a house that crushes its own daughters beneath its foundations – that is no house at all.