The Kingdom of Gods
Page 129
And as I remembered these things, I felt the knot of anger in me begin to loosen at last.
With a soft, amused chuckle, Yeine disentangled herself fighrom me and sat up. I watched her do this wistfully. “Be a good boy and rest now. And don’t stay up all night thinking. Tomorrow will be interesting. I don’t want you to miss any of it.”
At this I frowned, pushing myself up on one elbow. She ran fingers through her short hair as if to brush it back into place. A hundred years and still so much the mortal: a proper god would simply have willed her hair perfect. And she did not bother to hide the smug look on her face as I peered at her now.
“You’re up to some mischief,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Indeed I am. Will you bless me?” She got to her feet and stood smirking with one hand on her hip. “Remath Arameri is as interesting as her children, is all I’ll say for now.”
“Remath Arameri is evil, and I would kill her if Shahar did not love her so.” As soon as I said this, however, Yeine raised an eyebrow, and I grimaced as I realized how much I had revealed — not just to her, but also to myself. For if I loved Shahar enough to tolerate her horror of a mother, then I loved Shahar enough to forgive her.
“Silly boy,” Yeine said with a sigh. “You never do things the easy way, do you?”
I tried to make a joke of it, though the smile was hard to muster. “Not if the hard way is more fun.”
She shook her head. “You almost died today.”
“Not really.” I flinched as she leveled A Look at me. “Everything turned out all right!”
“No, it didn’t. Or rather, it shouldn’t have. But you still have a god’s luck, however much the rest of you has changed.” She sobered suddenly. “A good mother desires not only her children’s safety, but also their happiness, Sieh.”
“Er …” I could not help tensing a little, wondering what she was going on about. She was not as strange as Naha, but she thought in spirals, and sometimes — locked in a mortal’s linear mind as I was — I could not follow her. “That’s good, I suppose. …”
Yeine nodded, her face still as unfathomable thoughts churned behind it. Then she gave me another Look, and I blinked in surprise, for this one held a ferocity that I hadn’t seen from her in a mortal lifetime.
“I will see to it that you know happiness, Sieh,” she said. “We will do this.”
Not she and Naha. I knew what she meant the way I knew the Three merited capital-letter status. And though the Three had never joined in the time since her ascension, she was still one of them. Part of a greater whole — and when all three of them wanted the same thing, each member spoke with the whole’s voice.
I bowed my head, honored. But then I frowned as I realized what else she was saying. “Before I die, you mean.”
She shook her head, just herself again, then leaned over to put a hand on my chest. I felt the minute vibration of her flesh for just an instant before my dulled senses lost the full awareness of her, but I was glad for thoulat taste. She had no heart, my beautiful Yeine, but she didn’t need one. The pulse and breath and life and death of the whole universe was a more than sufficient substitute.
“We all die,” she said softly. “Sooner or later, all of us. Even gods.” And then, before her words could bring back the melancholy that I’d almost shed, she winked. “But being my son should get you some privileges.”
With that she vanished, leaving behind only the cooling tingle of warmth where her fingers had rested on my chest and the renewed, clean rags of my nest. When I lay down, I was glad to find she’d left her scent, too, all mist and hidden colors and a mother’s love. And a whiff — no more than that — of a woman’s passion.
It was enough. I slept well that night, comforted.
But not before I’d disobediently lain awake for an hour or so, wondering what Yeine was up to. I could not help feeling excited. Every child loves a surprise.
“Thank you all for coming,” said Remath. Her eyes touched on each of us in turn: me, Shahar, Dekarta, and, oddly, Wrath and Morad, alone of Remath’s full court. The latter two knelt behind Shahar and Deka, conceding right of prominence to the full-bloods. Ramina was present, too, standing behind and to the left of Remath’s throne. I leaned against the wall nearby, my arms folded as I pretended boredom.
It was late afternoon. We’d expected Remath’s summons earlier in the day — in the morning, when she took her usual audience, or after that. But no one had come to fetch us, so Shahar and Deka had done whatever it was Arameri fullbloods did all day, and meanwhile I had slept until noon, mostly because I could. Morad, bless her, had sent brave servants to beard me in my lair with food and clothing, then bring me to Remath.
With a soft, amused chuckle, Yeine disentangled herself fighrom me and sat up. I watched her do this wistfully. “Be a good boy and rest now. And don’t stay up all night thinking. Tomorrow will be interesting. I don’t want you to miss any of it.”
At this I frowned, pushing myself up on one elbow. She ran fingers through her short hair as if to brush it back into place. A hundred years and still so much the mortal: a proper god would simply have willed her hair perfect. And she did not bother to hide the smug look on her face as I peered at her now.
“You’re up to some mischief,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Indeed I am. Will you bless me?” She got to her feet and stood smirking with one hand on her hip. “Remath Arameri is as interesting as her children, is all I’ll say for now.”
“Remath Arameri is evil, and I would kill her if Shahar did not love her so.” As soon as I said this, however, Yeine raised an eyebrow, and I grimaced as I realized how much I had revealed — not just to her, but also to myself. For if I loved Shahar enough to tolerate her horror of a mother, then I loved Shahar enough to forgive her.
“Silly boy,” Yeine said with a sigh. “You never do things the easy way, do you?”
I tried to make a joke of it, though the smile was hard to muster. “Not if the hard way is more fun.”
She shook her head. “You almost died today.”
“Not really.” I flinched as she leveled A Look at me. “Everything turned out all right!”
“No, it didn’t. Or rather, it shouldn’t have. But you still have a god’s luck, however much the rest of you has changed.” She sobered suddenly. “A good mother desires not only her children’s safety, but also their happiness, Sieh.”
“Er …” I could not help tensing a little, wondering what she was going on about. She was not as strange as Naha, but she thought in spirals, and sometimes — locked in a mortal’s linear mind as I was — I could not follow her. “That’s good, I suppose. …”
Yeine nodded, her face still as unfathomable thoughts churned behind it. Then she gave me another Look, and I blinked in surprise, for this one held a ferocity that I hadn’t seen from her in a mortal lifetime.
“I will see to it that you know happiness, Sieh,” she said. “We will do this.”
Not she and Naha. I knew what she meant the way I knew the Three merited capital-letter status. And though the Three had never joined in the time since her ascension, she was still one of them. Part of a greater whole — and when all three of them wanted the same thing, each member spoke with the whole’s voice.
I bowed my head, honored. But then I frowned as I realized what else she was saying. “Before I die, you mean.”
She shook her head, just herself again, then leaned over to put a hand on my chest. I felt the minute vibration of her flesh for just an instant before my dulled senses lost the full awareness of her, but I was glad for thoulat taste. She had no heart, my beautiful Yeine, but she didn’t need one. The pulse and breath and life and death of the whole universe was a more than sufficient substitute.
“We all die,” she said softly. “Sooner or later, all of us. Even gods.” And then, before her words could bring back the melancholy that I’d almost shed, she winked. “But being my son should get you some privileges.”
With that she vanished, leaving behind only the cooling tingle of warmth where her fingers had rested on my chest and the renewed, clean rags of my nest. When I lay down, I was glad to find she’d left her scent, too, all mist and hidden colors and a mother’s love. And a whiff — no more than that — of a woman’s passion.
It was enough. I slept well that night, comforted.
But not before I’d disobediently lain awake for an hour or so, wondering what Yeine was up to. I could not help feeling excited. Every child loves a surprise.
“Thank you all for coming,” said Remath. Her eyes touched on each of us in turn: me, Shahar, Dekarta, and, oddly, Wrath and Morad, alone of Remath’s full court. The latter two knelt behind Shahar and Deka, conceding right of prominence to the full-bloods. Ramina was present, too, standing behind and to the left of Remath’s throne. I leaned against the wall nearby, my arms folded as I pretended boredom.
It was late afternoon. We’d expected Remath’s summons earlier in the day — in the morning, when she took her usual audience, or after that. But no one had come to fetch us, so Shahar and Deka had done whatever it was Arameri fullbloods did all day, and meanwhile I had slept until noon, mostly because I could. Morad, bless her, had sent brave servants to beard me in my lair with food and clothing, then bring me to Remath.
