Yeine!
Sieh.
He sighed, looking annoyed, and shifted to sit cross-legged. For a moment I thought hed just sit there and sulk, but finally he said, I just dont think its fair, thats all. Naha got to taste you, but I didnt.
That did make me uncomfortable. Even in my barbarian land, women do not take children as lovers.
The annoyance grew in his expression. I told you before, I dont want that from you. Im talking about this. He sat up on his knees abruptly and leaned toward me. I flinched away, and he stopped, waiting. It occurred to me that I loved him, trusted him with my very soul. Shouldnt I trust him with a kiss? So after a deep breath, I relaxed. Sieh waited until I gave him a minute nod, and a moment longer than thatmaking sure. Then he leaned in and kissed me again.
And this time it was different, because I could taste himnot Sieh the sweaty, slightly dirty child, but the Sieh beneath the human mask. It is difficult to describe. A sudden burst of something refreshing, like ripe melon, or maybe a waterfall. A torrent, a current; it rushed into me and through me and back into him so swiftly that I barely had time to draw breath. Salt. Lightning. That hurt enough that I almost pulled away, but distantly I felt Siehs hands tighten painfully on my arms. Before I could yelp, cold wind shot through me, soothing both the jolt and my bruises.
Then Sieh pulled back. I stared at him, but his eyes were still shut. Uttering a deep, satisfied sigh, he shifted to sit beside me again, lifting my arm and pulling it round himself proprietarily.
What was that? I asked, when I had recovered somewhat.
Me, he said. Of course.
What do I taste like?
Sieh sighed, snuggling against my shoulder, his arms looping around my waist. Soft, misty places full of sharp edges and hidden colors.
I could not help it; I giggled. I felt light-headed, like Id drunk too much of Relads liqueur. Thats not a taste!
Of course it is. You tasted Naha, didnt you? He tastes like falling to the bottom of the universe.
That stopped my giggling, because it was true. We sat awhile longer, not speaking, not thinkingor at least I was not. It was, after the constant worry and scheming of the past two weeks, a moment of pure bliss. Perhaps that was why, when I did think again, it was of a different kind of peace.
What will happen to me? I asked. After.
He was a clever child; he knew what I meant at once.
Youll drift for a time, he said very softly. Souls do that when theyre first freed from flesh. Eventually they gravitate toward places that resonate with certain aspects of their nature. Places that are safe for souls lacking flesh, unlike this realm.
The heavens and the hells.
He shrugged, just a little, so that it would not jostle either of us. Thats what mortals call them.
Is that not what they are?
I dont know. What does it matter? I frowned, and he sighed. Im not mortal, Yeine, I dont obsess over this the way your kind does. Theyre just places for life to rest, when its not being alive. There are many of them because Enefa knew your kind needed variety. He sighed. That was why Enefas soul kept drifting, we think. All the places she made, the ones that resonated best with her, vanished when she died.
I shivered, and thought I felt something else shiver deep within me.
Will will both our souls find a place, she and I? Or will hers drift again?
I dont know. The pain in his voice was quiet, inflectionless. Another person would have missed it.
I rubbed his back gently. If I can, I said, if I have any control over it Ill take her with me.
She may not want to go. The only places left now are the ones her brothers created. Those dont fit her much.
Then she can stay inside me, if thats better. Im no heaven, but weve put up with each other this long. Were going to have to talk, though. All these visions and dreams must go. Theyre really quite distracting.
Sieh lifted his head and stared at me. I kept a straight face for as long as I could, which was not long. Of course he managed it longer than me. He had centuries more of practice.
We dissolved into laughter there on the floor, wrapped around each other, and thus ended the last day of my life.
* * *
I went back to my apartment alone, about an hour before dusk. When I got inside, Naha was still sitting in the big chair as if he hadnt moved all day, although there was an empty food tray on the nightstand. He started as I walked in; I suspected he had been napping, or at least daydreaming.
Go where you like for the remainder of the day, I told him. Id like to be alone awhile.
He did not argue as he got to his feet. There was a dress on my beda long, formal gown, beautifully made, except that it was a drab gray in color. There were matching shoes and accessories sitting beside it.
Servants brought those, Nahadoth said. Youre to wear them tonight.
Thank you.
He moved past me on his way out, not looking at me. At the rooms threshold I heard him stop for a moment. Perhaps he turned back. Perhaps he opened his mouth to speak. But he said nothing, and a moment later I heard the apartments door open and close.
I bathed and got dressed, then sat down in front of the windows to wait.
26
The Ball
I SEE MY LAND BELOW ME.
On the mountain pass, the watchtowers have already been overrun. The Darren troops there are dead. They fought hard, using the passs narrowness to make up for their small numbers, but in the end there were simply too many of the enemy. The Darre lasted long enough to light the signal fires and send a message: The enemy is coming.
The forests are Darrs second line of defense. Many an enemy has faltered here, poisoned by snakes or weakened by disease or worn down by the endless, strangling vines. My people have always taken advantage of this, seeding the forests with wisewomen who know how to hide and strike and fade back into the brush, like leopards.
But times have changed, and this time the enemy has brought a special weapona scrivener. Once this would have been unheard of in High North; magic is an Amn thing, deemed cowardly by most barbarian standards. Even for those nations willing to try cowardice, the Amn keep their scriveners too expensive to hire. But of course, that is not a problem for an Arameri.
(Stupid, stupid me. I have money. I could have sent a scrivener to fight on Darrs behalf. But in the end, I am still a barbarian; I did not think of it, and now it is too late.)
The scrivener, some contemporary of Viraines, draws sigils on paper and pastes these to a few trees, and steps back. A column of white-hot fire sears through the forest in an unnaturally straight line. It goes for miles and miles, all the way to the stone walls of Arrebaia, which it smashes against. Clever; if they had set the whole forest afire, it would have burned for months. This is just a narrow path. When it has burned enough, the scrivener sets down more godwords, and the fire goes out. Aside from crumbling, charred trees and the unrecognizable corpses of animals, the way is clear. The enemy can reach Arrebaia within a day.
There is a stir at the edge of the forest. Someone stumbles out, blinded and half-choked by smoke. A wisewoman? No, this is a mana boy, not even old enough to sire daughters. What is he doing out here? We have never allowed boys to fight. And the knowledge comes: my people are desperate. Even children must fight, if we are to survive.
The enemy soldiers swarm over him like ants. They do not kill him. They chain him in a supply cart and carry him along as they march. When they reach Arrebaia, they mean to put him on display to strike at our heartsoh, and how it will. Our men have always been our treasures. They may slit his throat on the steps of Sar-enna-nem, just to rub salt in the wound.
I should have sent a scrivener.
* * *
The ballroom of Sky: a vast, high-ceilinged chamber whose walls were even more vividly mother-of-pearl than the rest of the palace, and tinted a faint rose hue. After the unrelenting white of the rest of Sky, that touch of color seemed almost shockingly vivid. Chandeliers
like the starry sky turned overhead; music drifted through the air, complicated Amn stuff, from the sextet of musicians on a nearby dais. The floors, to my surprise, were something other than Skystuff: clear and golden, like dark polished amber. It could not possibly have been amber since there were no seams, and that would have required a chunk of amber the size of a small hill. But that was what it looked like.
And people, filling this glorious space. I was stunned to see the enormous number present, all of them granted special dispensation to stay in Sky for this one night. There must have been a thousand people in the room: preening highbloods and the most officious of the Salons officials, kings and queens of lands far more important than mine, famous artists and courtesans, everybody who was anybody. I had spent the past few days wholly absorbed in my own troubles, so I had not noticed carriages coming and going all day, as they must have been to bring so many to Sky. My own fault.
I would have happily gone into the room and merged with the crowd as best I could. They all wore white, which was traditional for formal events in Sky. Only I wore a color. But I wouldnt have been able to disappear in any case, because when I entered the room and stopped at the top of the stairs, a servant nearbyclad in a strange white formal livery that Id never seen beforecleared his throat and bellowed, loudly enough to make me wince, The Lady Yeine Arameri, chosen heir of Dekarta, benevolent guardian of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms! Our guest of honor!
This obliged me to stop at the top of the steps, as every eye in the room turned to me.
I had never stood before such a horde in my life. Panic filled me for a moment, along with the utter conviction that they knew. How could they not? There was polite, restrained applause. I saw smiles on many faces, but no true friendliness. Interest, yesthe kind of interest one holds for a prize heifer that is soon to be slaughtered for the plates of the privileged. What will she taste like? I imagined in their gleaming, avid regard. If only we could have a bite.
My mouth went dry. My knees locked, which was the only thing that stopped me from turning on my uncomfortably high heels and running out of the room. That, and one other realization: that my parents had met at an Arameri ball. Perhaps in this very room. My mother had stood on the same steps and faced her own roomful of people who hated and feared her behind their smiles.
She would have smiled back at them.
So I fixed my eyes on a point just above the crowd. I smiled, and lifted my hand in a polite and regal wave, and hated them back. It made the fear recede, so that I could then descend the steps without tripping or worrying whether I looked graceful.
Halfway down I looked across the ballroom and saw Dekarta on a dais opposite the door. Somehow they had hauled his huge stone chair-not-throne from the audience chamber. He watched me from within its hard embrace with his colorless eyes.
I inclined my head. He blinked. Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow.
The crowd opened and closed around me like lips.
I made my way through sycophants who attempted to curry favor by making small talk, and more honest folk who merely gave me cool or sardonic nods. Eventually I reached an area where the crowd thinned, which happened to be near a refreshment table. I got a glass of wine from the attendant, drained it, got another, and then spotted arched glass doors to one side. Praying they would open and were not merely decorative, I went to them and found that they led outside, to a wide patio where a few guests had already congregated to take in the magically warmed night air. Some whispered to one another as I went past, but most were too engrossed in secrets or seduction or any of the usual activities that take place in the shadowy corners of such events. I stopped at the railing only because it was there, and spent a while willing my hand to stop shaking so I could drink my wine.
A hand came around me from behind, covering my own and helping me steady the glass. I knew who it was even before I felt that familiar cool stillness against my back.
They mean for this night to break you, said the Nightlord. His breath stirred my hair, tickled my ear, and set my skin tingling with half a dozen delicious memories. I closed my eyes, grateful for the simplicity of desire.
Theyre succeeding, I said.
No. Kinneth made you stronger than that. He took the glass from my hand and lifted it out of my sight, as if he meant to drink it himself. Then he returned the glass to me. What had been white winesome incredibly light vintage that had hardly any color and tasted of flowerswas now a red so dark that it seemed black in the balcony light. Even when I raised the glass to the sky, the stars were only a faint glimmer through a lens of deepest burgundy. I sipped experimentally, and shivered as the taste moved over my tongue. Sweet, but with a hint of almost metallic bitterness, and a salty aftertaste like tears.
And we have made you stronger, said Nahadoth. He spoke into my hair; one of his arms slid around me from behind, pulling me against him. I could not help relaxing against him.
I turned in the half circle of his arm and stopped in surprise. The man who gazed down at me did not look like Nahadoth, not in any guise Id ever seen. He looked human, Amn, and his hair was a rather dull blond nearly as short as mine. His face was handsome enough, but it was neither the face he wore to please me nor the face that Scimina had shaped. It was just a face. And he wore white. That, more than anything else, shocked me silent.
Nahadothbecause it was him, I felt that, no matter what he looked likelooked amused. The Lord of Night is not welcome at any celebration of Itempass servants.
I just didnt think I touched his sleeve. It was just clothsomething finely made, part of a jacket that looked vaguely military. I stroked it and was disappointed when it did not curl around my fingers in welcome.
I made the substance of the universe. Did you think white thread would be a challenge?
That startled me into a laugh, which startled me silent in the next instant. I had never heard him joke before. What did it mean?
He lifted a hand to my cheek, sobering. It struck me that though he was pretending to be human, he was nothing like his daytime self. Nothing about him was human beyond his appearancenot his movements, not the speed with which he shifted from one expression to another, especially not his eyes. A human mask simply wasnt enough to conceal his true nature. It was so obvious to my eyes that I marveled the other people out on the balcony werent screaming and running, terrified to find the Nightlord so close.
My children think I am going mad, he said, stroking my face ever so gently. Kurue tells me I risk all our hopes over you. Shes right.
I frowned in confusion. My life is still yours. Ill abide by our agreement, even though Ive lost the contest. You acted in good faith.
He sighed, to my surprise leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. Even now you speak of your life as a commodity, sold for our good faith. What we have done to you is obscene.
I had no idea what to say to that; I was too stunned. It occurred to me, in a flash of insight, that this was what Kurue fearedNahadoths fickle, impassioned sense of honor. He had gone to war to vent his grief over Enefa; he had kept himself and his children enslaved out of sheer stubbornness rather than forgive Itempas. He could have dealt with his brother differently, in ways that wouldnt have risked the whole universe and destroyed so many lives. But that was the problem: when the Nightlord cared for something, his decisions became irrational, his actions extreme.
And he was beginning, against all reason, to care for me.
Flattering. Frightening. I could not guess what he might do in such a circumstance. But, more important, I realized what this meant in the short term. In only a few hours, I would die, and he would be left to mourn yet again.
How strange that this thought made my own heart ache, too.
I cupped the Nightlords face between my hands and sighed, closing my eyes so that I could feel the person beneath the mask. Im sorry, I said. And I was. I had never meant to cause him pain.
He did not move, and neither did I. It felt good, leaning against his solidity, restin
g in his arms. It was an illusion, but for the first time in a long while, I felt safe.
I dont know how long we stood there, but we both heard it when the music changed. I straightened and looked around; the handful of guests who had been on the patio with us had gone inside. That meant it was midnighttime for the main dance of the evening, the highlight of the ball.
Do you want to go in? Nahadoth asked.
No, of course not. Im fine out here.
They dance to honor Itempas.
I looked at him, confused. Why should I care about that?
His smile made me feel warm inside. Have you turned from the faith of your ancestors so completely?
My ancestors worshipped you.
And Enefa, and Itempas, and our children. The Darre were one of the few races who honored us all.
I sighed. Its been a long time since those days. Too much 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.