The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms - By N. K. Jemisin Page 0,14
the ground, it would ordinarily be thin and cold, hard to breathe. Magic keeps the palace comfortable.
I sat down carefully on one of the stools, eyeing the bench beside me. The items there were laid out neatly: various fine paintbrushes, a dish of ink, and a small block of polished stone, incised on its face with a strange, complicated character of spikes and curlicues. The character was so fundamentally alien, so jarring to the eye, that I could not look at it long. The urge to look away was part of what it was, because it was gods language; a sigil.
Viraine sat opposite me while Sieh, unbidden, claimed a seat across the bench and rested his chin on his folded arms.
For another thing, Viraine continued, there are certain magics that even the Enefadeh cannot perform. Gods are peculiar beings, incredibly powerful within their sphere of influence, so to speak, but limited beyond that. Nahadoth is powerless by day. Sieh cannot be quiet and well-behaved unless hes up to something. He eyed Sieh, who gave us both an innocent smile. In many ways, we mortals are more versatile, for lack of a better term. More complete. For example, none of them can create or extend life. The simple act of having childrensomething any unlucky barmaid or careless soldier can dois a power that has been lost to the gods for millennia.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Siehs smile fade.
Extend life? I had heard rumors about what some scriveners did with their powersterrible, foul rumors. It occurred to me suddenly that my grandfather was very, very old.
Viraine nodded, his eyes twinkling at the disapproval in my tone. It is the great quest of our profession. Someday we might even achieve immortality He read the horror in my face and smiled. Though that goal is not without controversy.
My grandmother had always said the Amn were unnatural people. I looked away. Tvril said you were going to mark me.
He grinned, openly amused now. Laughing at the prudish savage. Mmm-hmm.
What does this mark do?
Keeps the Enefadeh from killing you, among other things. Youve seen what they can be like.
I licked my lips. Ah. Yes. I didnt know they were I gestured vaguely, unsure how to say what I meant without offending Sieh.
Running around loose? Sieh asked brightly. There was a wicked look in his eye; he was enjoying my discomfiture.
I winced. Yes.
Mortal form is their prison, Viraine said, ignoring Sieh. And every soul in Sky, their jailer. They are bound by Bright Itempas to serve the descendants of Shahar Arameri, His greatest priestess. But since Shahars descendants now number in the thousands He gestured toward the windows, as if the whole world was one clan. Or perhaps he simply meant Sky, the only world that mattered to him. Our ancestors chose to impose a more orderly structure on the situation. The mark confirms for the Enefadeh that youre Arameri; without it they will not obey you. It also specifies your rank within the family. How close you are to the main line of descent, I mean, which in turn dictates how much power you have to command them.
He picked up a brush, though he did not dip it in the ink; instead he reached up to my face, pushing my hair back from my forehead. My heart clenched as he examined me. Clearly Viraine was some sort of expert; could he truly not see Zhakkas mark? For an instant I thought he had, because his eyes flicked down to hold mine for half a breath. But apparently the gods had done their work well, because after a moment Viraine let my hair go and began to stir the ink.
Tvril said the mark was permanent, I said, mostly to quell my nervousness. The black liquid looked like simple writing ink, though the sigil-marked block was clearly no ordinary inkstone.
Unless Dekarta orders it removed, yes. Like a tattoo, though painless. Youll get used to it.
I was not fond of a permanent mark, though I knew better than to protest. To distract myself I asked, Why do you call them Enefadeh?
The look that crossed Viraines face was fleeting, but I recognized it by instinct: calculation. I had just revealed some stunning bit of ignorance to him, and he meant to use it.
Casually, Viraine jabbed a thumb at Sieh, who was surreptitiously eyeing the items on Viraines worktable. Its what they call themselves. We just find the label convenient.