The Broken Kingdoms
Page 101
“Adopted…” I’d had no idea such a thing was even possible. “But… well… You don’t seem to like these people very much.”
He did chuckle this time, and again I had an odd sense about him, of someone wise beyond his years. Of something dark and strange.
“Once upon a time,” he said, “there was a god imprisoned here. He was a terrible, beautiful, angry god, and by night when he roamed these white halls, everyone feared him. But by day, the god slept. And the body, the living mortal flesh that was his ball and chain, got to have a life of its own.”
I inhaled, understanding, just not believing. He was speaking of the Nightlord, of course—but the body that lived by day was…?
Near the window, Hado folded his arms. I saw this easily, despite the window’s darkness, because he was darker still.
“It wasn’t much of a life, mind you,” he said. “All the people who feared the god did not fear the man. They quickly learned they could do things to the man that the god would not tolerate. So the man lived his life in increments, born with every dawn, dying with every sunset. Hating every moment of it. For two. Thousand. Years.”
He glanced back at me. I gaped at him.
“Until suddenly, one day, the man became free.” Hado spread his arms. “He spent the first night of his existence gazing at the stars and weeping. But the next morning, he realized something. Though he could finally die, as he had dreamt of doing for centuries, he did not want to. He had been given a life at last, a whole life all his own. Dreams of his own. It would have been… wrong… to waste that.”
I licked my lips and swallowed. “I…” I stopped. I had been about to say I understand, but that wasn’t true. No mortal, and probably no god, could comprehend Hado’s life. Children of Nahadoth, Shiny had called Lil and Dateh. Here was another of the Nightlord’s children, stranger than all the rest.
“I can see that,” I said. “But”—I gestured around at the walls of Sky—“is this life? Wouldn’t something more normal—”
“I’ve spent my whole life serving power. And I’ve suffered for it—more than you can possibly imagine. Now I’m free. Should I go build a house in the country and grow vegetables? Find a lover I can endure, raise a litter of brats? Become a commoner like you, penniless and helpless?” I forgot myself and scowled. He chuckled. “Power is what I know. I would make a good family head, don’t you think? Once I’m a fullblood.”
He sounded sincere; that was the truly frightening thing.
“I think Lord Arameri would be a fool to let you anywhere near him,” I said slowly.
Hado shook his head in amusement. “I’ll go find Lord Itempas for you.”
How jarring, to hear Shiny called that. I nodded absently as Hado headed for the door. Then, when he was at the door, a thought occurred to me. “What would you do?” I asked. “If you were me. What would you choose? Life in chains or death?”
“I would be grateful to have that much of a choice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Of course it is. But if you must know, I would choose life. So long as it was a choice, I would live.”
I frowned, mulling this over. Hado hesitated a moment, then spoke again. “You’ve spent time among the gods, Eru Shoth. Haven’t you noticed? They live forever, but many of them are even more lonely and miserable than we are. Why do you think they bother with us? We teach them life’s value. So I would live, if only to spite them.” He let out a single mirthless laugh, then sighed and offered me a sardonic bow. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon,” I said. After he was gone, I sat thinking for a long time.
I ate something, more out of habit than necessity, and then eventually I took a nap. When I woke up, Shiny was there.
I heard him breathing as I sat up, bleary and stiff. Still weary from my ordeals, I’d fallen asleep at the table beside the remains of my meal, cradling my head on my good arm. I bumped the sling-bound arm against the table as I lifted my head, but this elicited only a mild twinge. The sigil had nearly finished its work.
“Hello,” I said. “Thank you for letting me sleep.” He said nothing, but that didn’t bother me. “What happened to you?”
He shrugged. He was sitting across from me, near enough that I could hear his movements. “I was questioned at the White Hall; then we came here.”
Obviously. I did not say it, because one took what one could get with him. “Where did you go after they brought you here?” Silently I made a wager with myself that he would say nowhere.
He did chuckle this time, and again I had an odd sense about him, of someone wise beyond his years. Of something dark and strange.
“Once upon a time,” he said, “there was a god imprisoned here. He was a terrible, beautiful, angry god, and by night when he roamed these white halls, everyone feared him. But by day, the god slept. And the body, the living mortal flesh that was his ball and chain, got to have a life of its own.”
I inhaled, understanding, just not believing. He was speaking of the Nightlord, of course—but the body that lived by day was…?
Near the window, Hado folded his arms. I saw this easily, despite the window’s darkness, because he was darker still.
“It wasn’t much of a life, mind you,” he said. “All the people who feared the god did not fear the man. They quickly learned they could do things to the man that the god would not tolerate. So the man lived his life in increments, born with every dawn, dying with every sunset. Hating every moment of it. For two. Thousand. Years.”
He glanced back at me. I gaped at him.
“Until suddenly, one day, the man became free.” Hado spread his arms. “He spent the first night of his existence gazing at the stars and weeping. But the next morning, he realized something. Though he could finally die, as he had dreamt of doing for centuries, he did not want to. He had been given a life at last, a whole life all his own. Dreams of his own. It would have been… wrong… to waste that.”
I licked my lips and swallowed. “I…” I stopped. I had been about to say I understand, but that wasn’t true. No mortal, and probably no god, could comprehend Hado’s life. Children of Nahadoth, Shiny had called Lil and Dateh. Here was another of the Nightlord’s children, stranger than all the rest.
“I can see that,” I said. “But”—I gestured around at the walls of Sky—“is this life? Wouldn’t something more normal—”
“I’ve spent my whole life serving power. And I’ve suffered for it—more than you can possibly imagine. Now I’m free. Should I go build a house in the country and grow vegetables? Find a lover I can endure, raise a litter of brats? Become a commoner like you, penniless and helpless?” I forgot myself and scowled. He chuckled. “Power is what I know. I would make a good family head, don’t you think? Once I’m a fullblood.”
He sounded sincere; that was the truly frightening thing.
“I think Lord Arameri would be a fool to let you anywhere near him,” I said slowly.
Hado shook his head in amusement. “I’ll go find Lord Itempas for you.”
How jarring, to hear Shiny called that. I nodded absently as Hado headed for the door. Then, when he was at the door, a thought occurred to me. “What would you do?” I asked. “If you were me. What would you choose? Life in chains or death?”
“I would be grateful to have that much of a choice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Of course it is. But if you must know, I would choose life. So long as it was a choice, I would live.”
I frowned, mulling this over. Hado hesitated a moment, then spoke again. “You’ve spent time among the gods, Eru Shoth. Haven’t you noticed? They live forever, but many of them are even more lonely and miserable than we are. Why do you think they bother with us? We teach them life’s value. So I would live, if only to spite them.” He let out a single mirthless laugh, then sighed and offered me a sardonic bow. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon,” I said. After he was gone, I sat thinking for a long time.
I ate something, more out of habit than necessity, and then eventually I took a nap. When I woke up, Shiny was there.
I heard him breathing as I sat up, bleary and stiff. Still weary from my ordeals, I’d fallen asleep at the table beside the remains of my meal, cradling my head on my good arm. I bumped the sling-bound arm against the table as I lifted my head, but this elicited only a mild twinge. The sigil had nearly finished its work.
“Hello,” I said. “Thank you for letting me sleep.” He said nothing, but that didn’t bother me. “What happened to you?”
He shrugged. He was sitting across from me, near enough that I could hear his movements. “I was questioned at the White Hall; then we came here.”
Obviously. I did not say it, because one took what one could get with him. “Where did you go after they brought you here?” Silently I made a wager with myself that he would say nowhere.
