The Broken Kingdoms: Book Two of the Inheritance Trilogy

by N. K. Jemisin

  “That isn’t something you need to know, Lady Oree.” Dateh’s tone was gently chiding.

  I set my jaw. “You seem to want me to join you willingly.”

  He fell silent for a moment, contemplating. That was gratifying, because my statement had been a gamble. I had no idea why he wanted me, beyond the fact that we were both demons. Perhaps he thought I could eventually develop magic as powerful as his, or perhaps demons had some symbolic value to the New Lights. Whatever the reason, I knew leverage when I saw it.

  At last he said, “My wife believes you can be rehabilitated, made to see reason.” He glanced at my drawing on the floor. “I, however, am beginning to wonder whether you’re too dangerous to be worth the effort.”

  I nibbled my bottom lip. “I won’t try that again.”

  “We are both Itempans here, Lady Oree. You’ll try it if you think it will work. And if there is insufficient disincentive.” He folded his arms, thoughtful. “Hmm. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with him….”

  “What?”

  “Your Maroneh friend.”

  “My—” I started. “You mean Shiny.” So he hadn’t escaped. Damnation.

  “Yes, whatever his name is.” For once, Dateh sounded annoyed. “I thought he was a godling, too, given his intriguing ability to return from death. But I’ve had him in the Empty for days now, and he’s shown no sign of resistance, magical or otherwise. He just keeps dying.”

  The small hairs along my skin prickled. I opened my mouth to say, That’s our god you’re torturing, you bastard, but then I stopped. What would Dateh do, if he knew he had the Bright Lord of Order as his prisoner? Would he even believe it? Or would he question Shiny—and be shocked to learn, as I had been, that Shiny loved the Nightlord and would disapprove of any action that threatened him? What would these madmen do then?

  “Maybe he’s… like us,” I said instead. “A d-demon.” It was hard to say the words.

  “No. I did test him. There are distinct properties that can be observed in the blood…. Aside from his peculiar ability, he’s mortal in every way that I can determine.” He sighed and did not see my start as I realized that was why they’d taken my blood. “The Order has discovered any number of minor magical variants over the centuries. I suppose he’s just another of those.” Dateh paused, long enough for the silence to unnerve me further. “This man lived with you in the city, I’m told. I can’t kill him, but I think you’ve guessed the ways in which I can make his brief periods of life unpleasant. You are valuable to me; he is not. Do we understand each other?”

  I swallowed. “Yes, Lord Dateh. I understand you perfectly.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have him placed with you later today, then. I should warn you, though; after this much time in the Empty, he may require… assistance.” I clenched my fists on my knees while he knocked on the door to be let out.

  But as he did so, something changed.

  It was just a momentary flicker, so fast that I thought I imagined it. For that instant, Dateh’s body looked wholly different. Wrong. I saw his nearer arm, curiously doubled as he rested it on the doorsill. Two arms, not one. Two hands gripping the smooth wood.

  I blinked in surprise and suddenly the image was gone. Then the door opened, and so was Dateh.

  I slept. I didn’t mean to, but I was exhausted after my effort to use magic. When I opened my still-twinging eyes, the light of sunset was thin and fading on my skin. Someone had been in the room during that time, which meant I’d slept hard; I was usually quick to wake at any untoward noise. My visitors had been busy. I found the furniture put back in place and a tray of food on the table. The candles were gone when I checked, replaced by a single small lantern of a design that I found odd—until I realized it held nothing more than a slow-burning moistened wick. No reservoir of oil that I could use for painting. Other items in the room had been removed or replaced, too, ostensibly because they could have been used for their pigment. The food was a bowl of some sort of porridge, as bland and textureless as they could’ve made it and kept it palatable. And the air smelled of floor cleanser. I felt a moment’s grief for my drawing, poor as it had been.

  I ate and then went to the window, wondering if I would ever escape from this place. I guessed that I had been imprisoned for five days, maybe six. Soon it would be Gebre, the spring equinox. All over the world, White Halls would deck themselves in festive ribbons and encanda, lanterns given a special fuel to make their flame burn white instead of red or gold. The Halls would throw open their doors to all comers, celebrating the approach of summer’s long days—and even now, with so many doubting their faith, those Halls would be full. Yet at the same time, in every city, there would be ceremonies dedicated to the Nightlord, too, and to the Lady. That was something new and still strange to me.

  An hour passed before the door of my cell opened again. Three men entered, carrying something heavy—two somethings, I realized, as they grunted and jostled the table and chairs out of the way. The first object they put down squeaked faintly, and I realized it was another cot, like the one I slept on.

  The second object they put down was Shiny, dumped on the cot. He groaned once and then lay still.

  “A present from the Nypri,” said one of the men, and another laughed. They left, and I hurried to Shiny’s side.

  His flesh was as cold as a corpse’s. I had never felt him that cold; he never stayed dead long enough to completely lose body temperature. Yet when I fumbled for his pulse, it was racing. His breath came in harsh, quick pants. They had cleaned him up; he was wearing the sleeveless white smock and pants of a new initiate. But what had they bathed him in, ice water?

  “Shiny?” All thoughts of his real name fled my mind as I wrestled him onto his back, then tugged a blanket over him. I touched his face and he jerked away, making a quick animal sound. “It’s Oree. Oree.”

  “Oree.” His voice was hoarse, as mine had been, perhaps for the same reason. But he settled after that, no longer moving away from my touch.

  He was mortal, Dateh had said, but I knew the truth. Beneath the mortal veneer, he was the god of light, and he had spent five days trapped in a lightless hell. Hurrying across the room, I found the lantern, which thankfully I had not yet blown out. Would such a tiny light help him? I brought it closer, putting it on the shelf above Shiny’s bed. His eyes were shut tight, and all his muscles quivered like wires ready to snap. He was only a little warmer.

  Seeing no better option, I slipped under the covers with him and tried to warm him with my body. This was not easy, as the cot was narrow and Shiny took up all but a few inches of it. Finally I had to climb on top of him, resting my head on his chest. I wasn’t fond of the overly intimate position, but there was nothing else to be done.

  I was completely caught by surprise when Shiny suddenly wrapped himself around me and turned us over, holding me solidly in place with an arm around the waist, a hand cupping my head against his shoulder, and his leg thrown over mine. I was not quite pinned but I couldn’t move much, either. Not that I tried; I was too stunned for that, wondering what had prompted this sudden gesture of affection. If that it was.

  He seemed reassured by the fact that I didn’t fight him. The quivering tension gradually drained out of his body, his breath against my ear slowing to something more normal. After a while, we both grew warm, and despite spending the whole day asleep, I could not quite help it; I slept again.

  When I awoke, I guessed that it was late. Near midnight, give or take a few hours. I was still sleepy but had a growing need to urinate, which was a problem because I was still neatly tucked into the complicated tangle of Shiny’s body. His long, slow breaths told me he was asleep, and deeply, which he probably needed after his ordeal.

  Working carefully and slowly, I extricated myself from his grip and then eased my way to a sitting position, from which I managed to clamber over him to reach the floor at last. By this point, the need had grown urgent, so I stood to hurry.

  A hand ca
ught my wrist, and I yelped.

  “Where are you going?” Shiny rasped.

  Taking a deep breath to slow my heart, I said, “The bathroom,” and waited for him to let me go.

  He didn’t move. I shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Finally I said, “If you don’t let go, the floor is going to be very wet in a minute.”

  “I’m trying,” he said, very softly. I had no idea what that meant. Then I realized his hand on my wrist was loosening and tightening and loosening again, as if he could not quite will it to open.

  Confused, I reached out to touch his face. His brow was furrowed. He drew in another deep breath through gritted teeth, then jerkily, deliberately, released my wrist.

  I puzzled over this for a moment, but nature warned me not to dawdle. I felt his eyes on me for the whole hurried walk across the room.

  It was better when I came out; the room held less tension. When I went over to him, I reached for his face and found his bowed shoulders, head hanging between them, heaving like he’d just run a long and exhausting race.

  I sat down beside him. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

  “No.”

  I sighed. “I think I deserve an explanation, if only so I can plan my bathroom breaks accordingly.”

  Predictably, he said nothing.

  Whatever lingering reverence I’d felt for him vanished. I was tired. For months I had endured his moods and his silence, his temper, his insults. Because of him, I had lost my life in Shadow. In my churlish moments, I could even blame him for my captivity. Dateh had found me because I’d killed the Order-Keepers, which wouldn’t have happened if Shiny hadn’t made them angry.

  “Fine,” I said, getting up to return to my own cot.

  But when I stepped forward, his hand caught my wrist again, tighter this time. “You will stay,” he said.

  I tried to yank my arm free. “Let go of me!”

  “Stay,” he snapped. “I command you to stay.”

  I twisted my arm, breaking his hold, and stepped back quickly, finding the table and maneuvering so that it was between me and him. “You can’t command me,” I said, trembling with fury. “You’re not a god anymore, remember? You’re just a pathetic mortal as helpless as the rest of us.”

  “You dare—” Shiny rose to his feet.

  “Of course I dare!” I gripped the table edge, hard enough to make my fingertips sting. “What’s wrong with you? You think just because you say something, I’ll obey? Will you kill me if I don’t? You think that makes you right? My gods, no wonder the Nightlord hates you, if that’s how you think!”

  Silence fell. I had run out of rage. I waited for his, ready to throw it back at him, but he said nothing. And after a long, pent moment, I heard him sit down again.

  “Please stay,” he said at last.

  “What?” But I had heard him.

  For a moment, I almost walked away, anyway. I was that tired of him. But he said nothing more, and in the silence, my anger faded enough that I realized what that quiet plea must have cost. It was not the way of the Bright to ask for what one wanted.

  So I went to him. But when he touched my hand, I pulled back. “A trade,” I said. “You’ve taken enough from me. Give something back.”

  He let out a long sigh and touched my hand again. I was surprised to find it trembling.

  “Later, Oree,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. Completely confused, I reached up to touch his not-Maroneh hair with my free hand; his head was still bowed. “Later, I will tell you… everything. Not now. Please, just stay.”

  I didn’t make a decision, not in any conscious way. I was still angry. But this time, when he tugged my hand, I let him draw me forward. I sat beside him again, and when he lay down, I let him pull me down as well, positioning me on my side and spooning himself behind me. He kept his arms loose so that I could get up if I needed to. He put his face into my hair, and I chose not to pull away.

  I did not sleep for the rest of that night. I’m not certain he did, either.

  * * *

  “There may be a way for us to get free of this place,” Shiny said the next day.

  It was noon. One of the Lights’ initiates had just left, after bringing us lunch and staying to see that we ate it all. He took away the leftovers and searched out my hiding places, too, to make sure there was no stored food under the mattress or rug. No chitchat this time, and no efforts to convert either of us. No one took me away for chores or lessons. I felt oddly neglected.

  “How?” I asked, then guessed. “Your magic. It comes when you protect me.”

  “Yes.”

  I licked my lips. “But I’m in danger now—have been since the Lights took me.” There wasn’t the slightest glimmer of magic in him.

  “It may be a matter of degree. Or perhaps a physical threat is required.”

  I sighed, wanting to hope. “That’s more ‘may be’ and ‘perhaps’ than I like to hear. I don’t suppose anyone thought to give you instructions on how… you… work now?”

  “No.”

  “What do you propose, then? I pick a fight with Serymn, and when she fights back, you blow up the House and kill us all?”

  There was a moment’s pause. I think my levity annoyed him.

  “In essence, yes. Though there would be little logic in me killing you, so I’ll moderate the amount of force I use.”

  “I appreciate your consideration, Shiny, really I do.”

  So the rest of the day passed with aching slowness, as I waited and tried not to hope. Shiny, for all his promises to explain the previous day’s bizarre behavior, said nothing more about it. I gathered he was still recovering from his ordeal in the Empty; he’d slept through dawn, which he’d never done before, though he’d glowed as usual. That, plus my company, seemed to restore him. He had been his old taciturn self since he’d woken.

  Still, I felt his eyes on me more often than usual that day, and once he touched me. It was when I’d gotten up to pace, fruitlessly hoping to vent restless energy. I brushed past Shiny, and he reached out to touch my arm in passing. I would have dismissed it as a mistake or my imagination if not for the previous evening. It was as if he needed contact now and again, for some reason that made no sense to me. Though when had anything about Shiny made sense?

  I didn’t ask questions, preoccupied as I was with my own concerns—like Dateh’s revelation that I was a demon. I did not feel much like a monster. That didn’t make me eager to discuss it with Shiny, who had slaughtered my ancestors and banned his children from ever again creating more beings like me.

  So I was content to let him keep his secrets for the time being.

  Toward evening, I was almost relieved when there came a brisk knock at the door, followed by the arrival of another initiate. As I rose to follow the girl, Shiny simply stood and came to my side. I heard her splutter for a moment, caught off guard, but finally she sighed and took us both.

  Thus we arrived in the private dining hall, where Serymn waited with Dateh. No one else this time, beyond the servants who were already busy setting out the meal and a few guards. If Serymn was bothered by Shiny’s presence, she said nothing to that effect.

  “Welcome, Lady Oree,” she said as we sat down. I turned my face toward the faint glimmer of her Arameri blood sigil in an effort to be polite, though I was beginning to hate being called Lady Oree. I knew what they meant by it now. The demons of old had been the Three’s offspring, too, and perhaps as deserving of respect as the godlings—and not human. Something I was not ready to think, about myself.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Serymn,” I said. “And Lord Dateh.” I could not see him, but his presence was as palpable against my skin as cool moonlight.

  “Lady Oree,” Dateh said. Then, so subtly that I almost didn’t catch it, his tone changed as he addressed Shiny. “And a good afternoon to your companion. Are you perhaps willing to introduce yourself today?”

  Shiny said nothing, and Dateh let out a sigh of barely contained
exasperation. I had to fight the urge to laugh, because as amusing as it was to hear Shiny drive someone else mad for a change, I was surprised at how quickly Dateh’s temper broke. For whatever reason, Dateh seemed to have taken an instant dislike to him.

  “He doesn’t talk to me, either,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Not much, anyway.”

  “Hmm,” said Dateh. I waited for him to ask more questions about Shiny, but he fell silent, too, radiating hostility.

  “Interesting,” said Serymn, which annoyed me now because it was exactly what I’d been thinking. “In any case, Lady Oree, I trust your day went well?”

  “I was bored, actually,” I said. “I’d’ve preferred to be on another of those work crews. Then I could’ve at least gotten out of my room.”

  “I can imagine!” said Serymn. “You seem the type of woman to prefer a more spontaneous, energetic approach to life.”

  “Well… yes.”

  She nodded, the sigil bobbing in the dark. “You may find this difficult to accept, Lady Oree, but your trials have been a necessary step in cementing you to our cause. As you found today, having no other options makes even menial labor desirable. Sever one attachment and others become more viable. It’s a harsh method, but one that has been used by both the Order and the Arameri family over the centuries, to great effect.”

  I refrained from saying what I really thought of that effect, and covered my anger by taking a sip from my wineglass. “I thought you people were opposed to the Order’s methods.”

  “Oh, no—only their recent change in doctrine. In most other ways, the Order’s methods have been proven by time, so we adopt them gladly. We are still devoted to the ways of the Bright Father, after all.”

  I should have known what that would set off.

  “In what way,” Shiny asked suddenly, startling me in midswallow, “does attacking Itempas’s children serve Him?”

  Silence fell around the table. Mine was astonishment; so was Serymn’s. Dateh’s… That I could not read. But he put down his fork.

  “It is our feeling,” he said, his words ever so slightly clipped, “that they do not belong in the mortal realm and that they defy the Father’s will by coming here. We know, after all, that they vanished from this plane after the Gods’ War, when Itempas took exclusive control of the heavens. Now that His control appears to have, hmm, slipped, the godlings—like rebellious children—take advantage. Since we have the ability to correct the matter…” I heard the fabric of his robes shift; a shrug. “We do as He would expect of His followers.”