The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms Page 87


Yes, said Nahadoth. His voice was as calm as before my lapse. Her desperation made her vulnerable. Of course we took advantage.

I almost grew angry, but caught myself in time.

Of course. So you persuaded her then to allow Enefas soul into her child. And I took a deep breath. Paused, marshaling my strength. My father knew?

I dont know.

If the Enefadeh did not know what my father thought of the matter, then no one here would know. I dared not go back to Darr to ask Beba.

So I chose to believe that Father knew and loved me anyway. That Mother, beyond her initial misgivings, had chosen to love me. That she had kept the ugly secrets of her family from me out of some misguided hope that I would have a simple, peaceful destiny in Darr at least until the gods came back to claim what was theirs.

I needed to stay calm, but I could not hold it all in. I closed my eyes and began to laugh. So many hopes had been rested on me.

Am I allowed none of my own? I whispered.

What would you want? Nahadoth asked.

What?

If you could be free. There was something in his voice that I did not understand. Wistfulness? Yes, and something more. Kindness? Fondness? No, that was impossible. What would you want for yourself?

The question made my heart ache. I hated him for asking it. It was his fault that my wishes would never come truehis fault, and my parents, and Dekartas, and even Enefas.

Im tired of being what everyone else has made me, I said. I want to be myself.

Dont be a child.

I looked up, startled and angry, though of course there was nothing to see. What?

You are what your creators and experiences have made you, like every other being in this universe. Accept that and be done; I tire of your whining.

If he had said it in his usual cold voice, I would have walked out in affront. But he truly did sound tired, and I remembered the price he had paid for my selfishness.

The air stirred nearby again, soft, almost a touch. When he spoke, he was closer. The future, however, is yours to makeeven now. Tell me what you want.

It was something I had never truly thought about, beyond vengeance. I wanted all the usual things that any young woman wanted. Friends. Family. Happiness for those I loved.

And also

I shivered, though the chamber was not cold. The very strangeness of this new thought made me suspicious. Was this some sign of Enefas influence?

Accept that and be done.

I I closed my mouth. Swallowed. Tried again. I want something different for the world. Ah, but the world would indeed be different after Nahadoth and Itempas were done with it. A pile of rubble, with humanity a red ruin underneath. Something better.

What?

I dont know. I clenched my fists, struggling to articulate what I felt, surprised by my own frustration. Right now, everyone is afraid. Closer, yes. I kept at it. We live at the gods mercy and shape our lives around your whims. Even when your quarrels dont involve us, we die. What would we be like if if you just went away?

More would die, said the Nightlord. Those who worship us would be frightened by our absence. Some would decide it was the fault of others, while those who embrace the new order would resent any who keep the old ways. The wars would last centuries.

I felt the truth of his words in the pit of my belly, and it left me queasy with horror. But then something touched mehands, cool and light. He rubbed my shoulders, as if to soothe me.

But eventually, the battles would end, he said. When a fire burns out, new things grow in its wake.

I felt no lust or rage from himprobably because, for the moment, he felt none from me. He was not like Itempas, unable to accept change, bending or breaking everything around him to his will. Nahadoth bent himself to the will of others. For a moment the thought made me sad.

Are you ever yourself? I asked. Truly yourself, not just the way others see you?

The hands went still, then withdrew. Enefa asked me that once.

Im sorry

No. There was sorrow in his voice. It never faded, for him. How terrible to be a god of change and endure grief unending.

When I am free, he said, I will choose who shapes me.

But I frowned. That isnt freedom.

At the dawn of reality I was myself. There was nothing and no one else to influence meonly the Maelstrom that had given birth to me, and it did not care. I tore open my flesh and spilled out the substance of what became your realm: matter and energy and my own cold, black blood. I devoured my mind and reveled in the novelty of pain.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I swallowed hard and tried to will them away, but abruptly the hands returned, lifting my chin. Fingers stroked my eyes shut, brushing the tears away.

When I am free I will choose, he said again, whispering, very close. You must do the same.

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