The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms - By N. K. Jemisin Page 0,120

has changed.

You have changed.

I could say nothing to that; it was true.

On impulse, I stepped away from him and took his hands, pulling him into dancing position. To the gods, I said. All of them.

It was so gratifying to surprise him. I have never danced to honor myself.

Well, there you are. I shrugged, and waited for the start of a new chorus before pulling him to step with me. A first time for everything.

Nahadoth looked amused, but he moved easily in time with me despite the complicated steps. Every noble child learned such dances, but I had never really liked them. Amn dances reminded me of the Amn themselvescold, rigid, more concerned with appearance than enjoyment. Yet here, on a dark balcony under a moonless sky, partnered by a god, I found myself smiling as we wheeled back and forth. It was easy to remember the steps with him exerting gentle guiding pressure against my hands and back. Easy to appreciate the grace of the timing with a partner who glided like the wind. I closed my eyes, leaning into the turns, sighing in pleasure as the music swelled to match my mood.

When the music stopped, I leaned against him and wished the night would never end. Not just because of what awaited me come dawn.

Will you be with me tomorrow? I asked, meaning the true Nahadoth, not his daytime self.

I am permitted to remain myself by daylight for the duration of the ceremony.

So that Itempas can ask you to return to him.

His breath tickled my hair, a soft, cold laugh. And this time I shall, but not the way he expects.

I nodded, listening to the slow, strange pulse of his heart. It sounded distant, echoing, as if I heard it across miles. What will you do if you win? Kill him?

His moment of silence warned me before the actual answer came. I dont know.

You still love him.

He did not answer, though he stroked my back once. I didnt fool myself. It was not me he meant to reassure.

Its all right, I said. I understand.

No, he said. No mortal could understand.

I said nothing more, and he said nothing more, and thus did the long night pass.

I had endured too many nights with little sleep. I mustve fallen asleep standing there, because suddenly I was blinking and lifting my head, and the sky was a different colora hazy gradient of soupy black through gray. The new moon hovered just above the horizon, a darker blotch against the lightening sky.

Nahadoths fingers squeezed again gently, and I realized hed woken me. He was gazing toward the balcony doors. Viraine stood there, and Scimina, and Relad. Their white garments seemed to glow, casting their faces into shadow.

Time, said Viraine.

I searched inside myself and was pleased to find stillness rather than fear.

Yes, I said. Lets go.

Inside, the ball was still in full swing, though there were fewer people dancing now than I had last seen. Dekartas throne stood empty on the other side of the throng. Perhaps he had left early to prepare.

Once we entered Skys quiet, preternaturally bright halls, Nahadoth let his guise slip; his hair lengthened and his clothing changed color between one step and another. Pale-skinned again; too many of my relatives around, I supposed. We rode a lift upward, emerging on what I now recognized as Skys topmost floor. As we exited, I saw the doors to the solarium standing open, the manicured forest beyond shadowed and quiet. The only light came from the palaces central spire, which jutted up from the solariums heart, glowing like the moon. A fainter path ran from our feet into the trees, directly toward the spires base.

But I was distracted by the figures who stood on either side of the door.

Kurue I recognized at once; I had not forgotten the beauty of her gold-silver-platinum wings. Zhakkarn, too, was magnificent in silver armor traced with molten sigils, her helm shining in the light. I had last seen that armor in a dream.

The third figure, between them, was at once less impressive and more strange: a sleek, black-furred cat like the leopards of my homeland, though significantly larger. And no forest had given birth to this leopard, whose fur rippled like waves in an unseen wind, iridescent to matte to a familiar, impossibly deep blackness. So he did look like his father, after all.

I could not help smiling. Thank you, I mouthed. The cat bared its teeth back in what could never have been misinterpreted as a