The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms
Page 68
It is esui, I think, that draws me to Nahadoth. Perhaps it is also what draws him to me.
But I digress.
* * *
but then it would be a simple matter for some other highblood to command my message out of him.
Do you honestly think I would bother getting involved with your schemes? After living between Relad and Scimina for two decades? Viraine rolled his eyes. I dont care which of you ends up succeeding Dekarta.
The next family head could make your life easier. Or harder. I said it in a neutral tone; let him hear promises or threats as he pleased. I would think the whole world cares who ends up on that stone seat.
Even Dekarta answers to a higher power, Viraine said. While I wondered what in the gods names that meant in the context of our discussion, he gazed into the hole beyond the metal grate, his eyes reflecting the pale light. Then his expression changed to something that immediately made me wary. Come, he said. He gestured at the grate. Look.
I frowned. Why?
Im curious about something.
What?
He said nothing, waiting. Finally I sighed and went to the grates edge.
At first I saw nothing. Then there was another of those hollow groans, and someone shuffled into view, and it took everything I had not to run away and throw up.
Take a human being. Twist and stretch his limbs like clay. Add new limbs, designed for gods know what purpose. Bring some of his innards out of his body, yet leave them working. Seal up his mouth andSkyfather. God of all gods.
And the worst was this: I could still see intelligence and awareness in the distorted eyes. They had not even allowed him the escape of insanity.
I could not conceal my reaction entirely. There was a fine sheen of sweat on my brow and upper lip when I looked up to meet Viraines intent gaze.
Well? I asked. I had to swallow before I could speak. Is your curiosity satisfied?
The way he was looking at me would have disturbed me even if we hadnt stood above the tortured, mutilated evidence of his power. There was a kind of lust in his eyes that had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do withwhat? I could not guess, but it reminded me, unpleasantly, of the human form Nahadoth. He made my fingers itch for a knife the same way.
Yes, he said softly. There was no smile on his face, but I could see a high, triumphant gleam in his eyes. I wanted to know whether you had any chance, any at all, before I assisted you.
And your verdict is? But I knew already.
He gestured into the pit. Kinneth could have looked at that thing without batting an eyelash. She could have done the deed herself and enjoyed it
You lie!
or pretended to enjoy it well enough that the difference wouldnt have mattered. She had what it took to defeat Dekarta. You dont.
Maybe not, I snapped. But at least I still have a soul. What did you trade yours for?
To my surprise, Viraines glee seemed to fade. He looked down into the pit, the gray light making his eyes seem colorless and older than Dekartas.
Not enough, he said, and walked away. He moved past me into the corridor, heading for the lift.
I did not follow. Instead I went to the far wall of the chamber, sat down against it, and waited. After what seemed an eternity of gray silencebroken only by the faint, occasional suffering sounds of the poor soul in the pitI felt a familiar shudder ripple through the palaces substance. I waited awhile, counting the minutes until I judged that sunsets light had faded enough from the evening sky. Then I got up and went to the corridor, my back to the oubliette. The gray light painted my shadow along the floor in a thin, attenuated line. I made certain my face was in that shadow before I spoke. Nahadoth.
The walls dimmed before I turned. Yet the room was brighter than it should have been, because of the light from the oubliette. For some reason, his darkness had no effect on it.
He watched me, inscrutable, his face even more inhumanly perfect in the colorless light.
Here, I said, and moved past him to the oubliette. The prisoner within was looking up at me, perhaps sensing my intent. It did not bother me to look at him this time as I pointed into the pit.
Heal him, I said.
I expected a furious response. Or amusement, or triumph; there really was no way to predict the Nightlords reaction to my first command. What I did not expect, however, was what he said.
I cant.
I frowned at him; he gazed into the oubliette dispassionately. What do you mean?
Dekarta gave the command that caused this.
And because of his master sigil, I could countermand no orders that Dekarta gave. I closed my eyes and sent a brief prayer for forgiveness towell. Whichever god cared to listen.
Very well, then, I said, and my voice sounded very small in the open chamber. I took a deep breath. Kill him.
But I digress.
* * *
but then it would be a simple matter for some other highblood to command my message out of him.
Do you honestly think I would bother getting involved with your schemes? After living between Relad and Scimina for two decades? Viraine rolled his eyes. I dont care which of you ends up succeeding Dekarta.
The next family head could make your life easier. Or harder. I said it in a neutral tone; let him hear promises or threats as he pleased. I would think the whole world cares who ends up on that stone seat.
Even Dekarta answers to a higher power, Viraine said. While I wondered what in the gods names that meant in the context of our discussion, he gazed into the hole beyond the metal grate, his eyes reflecting the pale light. Then his expression changed to something that immediately made me wary. Come, he said. He gestured at the grate. Look.
I frowned. Why?
Im curious about something.
What?
He said nothing, waiting. Finally I sighed and went to the grates edge.
At first I saw nothing. Then there was another of those hollow groans, and someone shuffled into view, and it took everything I had not to run away and throw up.
Take a human being. Twist and stretch his limbs like clay. Add new limbs, designed for gods know what purpose. Bring some of his innards out of his body, yet leave them working. Seal up his mouth andSkyfather. God of all gods.
And the worst was this: I could still see intelligence and awareness in the distorted eyes. They had not even allowed him the escape of insanity.
I could not conceal my reaction entirely. There was a fine sheen of sweat on my brow and upper lip when I looked up to meet Viraines intent gaze.
Well? I asked. I had to swallow before I could speak. Is your curiosity satisfied?
The way he was looking at me would have disturbed me even if we hadnt stood above the tortured, mutilated evidence of his power. There was a kind of lust in his eyes that had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do withwhat? I could not guess, but it reminded me, unpleasantly, of the human form Nahadoth. He made my fingers itch for a knife the same way.
Yes, he said softly. There was no smile on his face, but I could see a high, triumphant gleam in his eyes. I wanted to know whether you had any chance, any at all, before I assisted you.
And your verdict is? But I knew already.
He gestured into the pit. Kinneth could have looked at that thing without batting an eyelash. She could have done the deed herself and enjoyed it
You lie!
or pretended to enjoy it well enough that the difference wouldnt have mattered. She had what it took to defeat Dekarta. You dont.
Maybe not, I snapped. But at least I still have a soul. What did you trade yours for?
To my surprise, Viraines glee seemed to fade. He looked down into the pit, the gray light making his eyes seem colorless and older than Dekartas.
Not enough, he said, and walked away. He moved past me into the corridor, heading for the lift.
I did not follow. Instead I went to the far wall of the chamber, sat down against it, and waited. After what seemed an eternity of gray silencebroken only by the faint, occasional suffering sounds of the poor soul in the pitI felt a familiar shudder ripple through the palaces substance. I waited awhile, counting the minutes until I judged that sunsets light had faded enough from the evening sky. Then I got up and went to the corridor, my back to the oubliette. The gray light painted my shadow along the floor in a thin, attenuated line. I made certain my face was in that shadow before I spoke. Nahadoth.
The walls dimmed before I turned. Yet the room was brighter than it should have been, because of the light from the oubliette. For some reason, his darkness had no effect on it.
He watched me, inscrutable, his face even more inhumanly perfect in the colorless light.
Here, I said, and moved past him to the oubliette. The prisoner within was looking up at me, perhaps sensing my intent. It did not bother me to look at him this time as I pointed into the pit.
Heal him, I said.
I expected a furious response. Or amusement, or triumph; there really was no way to predict the Nightlords reaction to my first command. What I did not expect, however, was what he said.
I cant.
I frowned at him; he gazed into the oubliette dispassionately. What do you mean?
Dekarta gave the command that caused this.
And because of his master sigil, I could countermand no orders that Dekarta gave. I closed my eyes and sent a brief prayer for forgiveness towell. Whichever god cared to listen.
Very well, then, I said, and my voice sounded very small in the open chamber. I took a deep breath. Kill him.
