The Stone Sky (The Broken Earth, #3) - N. K. Jemisin Page 0,106

seat, rather than behind it. There are chairs, one fused to some kind of big slanted table. For drawing, maybe. The bed, in the attached room, is the strangest thing: a big wide hemisphere of brightly colored cushion without sheets or pillows. When Nassun tentatively lies down on it, though, she finds that it flattens and conforms to her body in ways that are stunningly comfortable. It’s warm, too—actively heating up beneath her until the aches of sleeping in a cold stairwell go away. Fascinated despite herself, Nassun examines the bed and is shocked to realize that it is full of magic, and has covered her in same. Threads of silver roam over her body, determining her discomfort by touching her nerves and then repairing her bruises and scrapes; other threads whip the particles of the bed until friction warms them; yet more threads search her skin for infinitesimal dry flakes and flecks of dust, and scrub them away. It’s like what she does when she uses the silver to heal or cut things, but automatic, somehow. She can’t imagine who would make a bed that could do magic. She can’t imagine why. She can’t fathom how anyone could have convinced all this silver to do such nice things, but that’s what’s happening. No wonder the people who built the obelisks needed so much silver, if they used it in lieu of wearing blankets, or taking baths, or letting themselves heal over time.

Schaffa has soiled himself, Nassun finds. It makes her feel ashamed to have to pull his clothes off and clean him, using stretchy cloths she finds in the bathroom, but it would be worse to leave him in his own filth. His eyes are open again, though he does not move while she works. They’ve opened during the day, and they close at night, but though Nassun talks to Schaffa (pleads for him to wake up, asks him to help her, tells him that she needs him), he does not respond.

She gets him into the bed, leaving a pad of cloths under his bare bottom. She trickles water from their canteens into his mouth, and when that runs out, she cautiously tries to get more from the strange water pump in the kitchen. There are no levers or handles on it, but when she puts her canteen beneath the spigot, water comes out. She’s a diligent girl. First she uses the powder in her runny-sack to make a cup of safe from the water, checking for contaminants. The safe dissolves but stays cloudy and white, so she drinks that herself and then brings more water to Schaffa. He drinks readily, which probably means he was really thirsty. She gives him raisins that she first soaks in water, and he chews and swallows, although slowly and without much vigor. She hasn’t done a good job of taking care of him.

She will do better, she decides, and heads outside to the garden to pick food for them both.

Syenite told me the date. Six years. It’s been six years? No wonder she’s so angry. Told me to go jump in a hole, since it’s been so long. She doesn’t want to see me again. Such a steelheart. Told her I was sorry. My fault, all of it.

My fault. My Moon. Turned the spare key today. (Lines of sight, lines of force, three by three by three? Cubical arrangement, like a good little crystal lattice.) The key unlocks the Gate. Dangerous to bring so many obelisks to Yumenes, though; Guardians everywhere. Wouldn’t have time before they got me. Better to make a spare key out of orogenes, and who can I use? Who is strong enough. Syen isn’t, almost but not quite. Innon isn’t. Coru is but I can’t find him. He’s just a baby anyway, not right. Babies. Lots of babies. Node maintainers? Node maintainers!

No. They’ve suffered enough. Use the Fulcrum seniors instead.

Or the node maintainers.

Why should I do it here? Plugs the hole. Do it there, tho … Get Yumenes. Get the Fulcrum. Get a lot of the Guardians.

Stop nagging me, woman. Go tell Innon to fuck you, or something. You’re always so cranky when you haven’t gotten laid. I’ll jump in the hole tomorrow.

It becomes a routine.

She takes care of Schaffa in the mornings, then goes out in the afternoon to explore the city and find things they need. There’s no need to bathe Schaffa, or to clean up his waste again; astonishingly, the bed takes care of that,