The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms - By N. K. Jemisin Page 0,103

the way others see you?

The hands went still, then withdrew. Enefa asked me that once.

Im sorry

No. There was sorrow in his voice. It never faded, for him. How terrible to be a god of change and endure grief unending.

When I am free, he said, I will choose who shapes me.

But I frowned. That isnt freedom.

At the dawn of reality I was myself. There was nothing and no one else to influence meonly the Maelstrom that had given birth to me, and it did not care. I tore open my flesh and spilled out the substance of what became your realm: matter and energy and my own cold, black blood. I devoured my mind and reveled in the novelty of pain.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I swallowed hard and tried to will them away, but abruptly the hands returned, lifting my chin. Fingers stroked my eyes shut, brushing the tears away.

When I am free I will choose, he said again, whispering, very close. You must do the same.

But I will never be

He kissed me silent. There was longing in that kiss, tangy and bittersweet. Was that my own longing, or his? Then I understood, finally: it didnt matter.

But oh gods, oh goddess, it was so good. He tasted like cool dew. He made me thirsty. Just before I began to want more, he pulled back. I fought not to feel disappointment, for fear of what it would do to us both.

Go and rest, Yeine, he said. Leave your mothers schemes to play themselves out. You have your own trials to face.

And then I was in my apartment, sitting on the floor in a square of moonlight. The walls were dark, but I could see easily because the moon, bright though just a sliver, was low in the sky. Well past midnight, probably only an hour or two before dawn. This was becoming a habit for me.

Sieh sat in the big chair near my bed. Seeing me, he uncurled from it and moved onto the floor beside me. In the moonlight his pupils were huge and round, like those of an anxious cat.

I said nothing, and after a moment he reached up and pulled me down so that my head rested in his lap. I closed my eyes, drawing comfort from the feel of his hand on my hair. After a time, he began to sing me a lullaby that I had heard in a dream. Relaxed and warm, I slept.

23

Selfishness

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, the Nightlord had said.

Something better for the world, I had replied.

But also

* * *

In the morning I went to the Salon early, before the Consortium session began, hoping to find Ras Onchi. Before I could, I saw Wohi Ubm, the other High North noblewoman, arriving on the Salons wide, colonnaded steps.

Oh, she said after an awkward introduction and my inquiry. I knew then, the instant I saw the pitying look in her eyes. You havent heard. Ras died in her sleep just these two nights past. She sighed. I still cant believe it. But, well; she was old.

I went back to Sky.

* * *

I walked through the corridors awhile, thinking about death.

Servants nodded as they passed me and I nodded back. Courtiersmy fellow highbloodseither ignored me or stared in open curiosity. Word must have spread that I was finished as an heir candidate, publicly defeated by Scimina. Not all of the stares were kind. I inclined my head to them anyhow. Their pettiness was not mine.

On one of the lower levels I surprised Tvril on a shadowed balcony, dangling a clipboard from one finger and watching a passing cloud. When I touched him, he started guiltily (fortunately catching the clipboard), which I took to mean he had been thinking about me.

The ball will begin at dusk tomorrow night, he said. I had moved to stand at the railing beside him, absorbing the view and the comfort of his presence in silence. It will continue until dawn the next morning. Thats tradition, before a succession ceremony. Tomorrow is a new moona night that was once sacred to the followers of Nahadoth. So they celebrate through it.

Petty of them, I thought. Or petty of Itempas.

Immediately after the ball, the Stone of Earth will be sent through the palaces central shaft to the ritual chamber, in the solarium spire.

Ah. I heard you warning the servants about this last week.

Tvril turned the clipboard in his fingers gently, not looking at me. Yes. A fleeting exposure supposedly does no harm, but He