The Inheritance Trilogy

by N. K. Jemisin

  “But if you’re clever,” I added, “you’ll get to keep most of yours.”

  Dekarta shook his head slowly. “Not me. I’m dying. And my heirs—they had the strength to rule as you say, but…” He glanced over at Relad, who lay open-eyed on the floor with a knife stuck in his throat. He had bled even more than I.

  “Uncle—” Scimina began, but Nahadoth jerked her leash to silence her. Dekarta glanced once in her direction, then away.

  “You have another heir, Dekarta,” I said. “He’s clever and competent, and I believe he’s strong enough—though he will not thank me for recommending him.”

  I smiled to myself, seeing without eyes through the layers of Sky. Within, the palace was not so very different. Bark and branches had replaced the pearly Skystuff in places, and some of the dead spaces had been filled with living wood. But even this simple change was enough to terrify the denizens of Sky, highblood and low alike. At the heart of the chaos was T’vril, marshaling the palace’s servants and organizing an evacuation.

  Yes, he would do nicely.

  Dekarta’s eyes widened, but he knew an order when he heard one. He nodded, and in return, I touched him and willed his hip whole and his heart stable. That would keep him alive a few days longer—long enough to see the transition through.

  “I… I don’t understand,” said the human Naha, as the godly version and I got to our feet. He looked deeply shaken. “Why have you done this? What do I do now?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Live,” I said. “Why else do you think I put you here?”

  There was much more to be done, but those were the parts that mattered. You would have enjoyed all of it, I think—righting the imbalances triggered by your death, discovering existence anew. But perhaps there are interesting discoveries to be had where you’ve gone, too.

  It surprises me to admit it, but I shall miss you, Enefa. My soul is not used to solitude.

  Then again, I will never be truly alone, thanks to you.

  Sometime after we left Sky and Itempas and the mortal world behind, Sieh took my hand. “Come with us,” he said.

  “Where?”

  Nahadoth touched my face then, very gently, and I was awed and humbled by the tenderness in his gaze. Had I earned such warmth from him? I hadn’t—but I would. I vowed this to myself, and lifted my face for his kiss.

  “You have much to learn,” he murmured against my lips when we parted. “I have so many wonders to show you.”

  I could not help grinning like a human girl. “Take me away, then,” I said. “Let’s get started.”

  So we passed beyond the universe, and now there is nothing more to tell.

  Of this tale, anyhow.

  APPENDIX

  1

  A Glossary of Terms

  Altarskirt rose: A rare, specially bred variety of white rose, highly prized.

  Amn: Most populous and powerful of the Senmite races.

  Arameri: Ruling family of the Amn; advisors to the Nobles’ Consortium and the Order of Itempas.

  Arrebaia: Capital city of Darr.

  Blood sigil: The mark of a recognized Arameri family member.

  Bright, the: The time of Itempas’s solitary rule after the Gods’ War. General term for goodness, order, law, rightness.

  Darkling: Those races that adopted the exclusive worship of Itempas only after the Gods’ War, under duress. Includes most High Northern and island peoples.

  Darr: A High North nation.

  Dekarta Arameri: Head of the Arameri family.

  Demon: Children of forbidden unions between gods/godlings and mortals. Extinct.

  Enefa: One of the Three. The Betrayer. Deceased.

  Enefadeh: Those who remember Enefa.

  Gods: Immortal children of the Maelstrom. The Three.

  Godling: Immortal children of the Three. Sometimes also referred to as gods.

  Gods’ Realm: Beyond the universe.

  Gods’ War: An apocalyptic conflict in which Bright Itempas claimed rulership of the heavens after defeating his two siblings.

  Heavens, Hells: Abodes for souls beyond the mortal realm.

  Heretic: A worshipper of any god but Itempas. Outlawed.

  High North: Northernmost continent. A backwater.

  Hundred Thousand Kingdoms: Collective term for the world since its unification under Arameri rule.

  Irt: An island nation.

  Islands, the: Vast archipelago east of High North and Senm.

  Itempan: General term for a worshipper of Itempas. Also used to refer to members of the Order of Itempas.

  Itempas: One of the Three. The Bright Lord; master of heavens and earth; the Skyfather.

  Ken: Largest of the island nations, home to the Ken and Min peoples.

  Kinneth Arameri: Only daughter of Dekarta Arameri.

  Kurue: A godling, also called the Wise.

  Lift: A magical means of transportation within Sky; a lesser version of the Vertical Gates.

  Maelstrom: The creator of the Three. Unknowable.

  Magic: The innate ability of gods and godlings to alter the material and immaterial world. Mortals may approximate this ability through the use of the gods’ language.

  Menchey: A High North nation.

  Mortal realm: The universe, created by the Three.

  Nahadoth: One of the Three. The Nightlord.

  Narshes: A High North race whose homeland was conquered by the Tok several centuries ago.

  Nobles’ Consortium: Ruling political body of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms.

  Order of Itempas: The priesthood dedicated to Bright Itempas. In addition to spiritual guidance, also responsible for law and order, education, and the eradication of heresy. Also known as the Itempan Order.

  Relad Arameri: Nephew of Dekarta Arameri, twin brother of Scimina.

  Salon: Headquarters for the Nobles’ Consortium.

  Sar-enna-nem: Seat of the Darren ennu and the Warriors’ Council.

  Scimina Arameri: Niece of Dekarta Arameri, twin sister of Relad.

  Scrivener: A scholar of the gods’ written language.

  Senm: Southernmost and largest continent of the world.

  Senmite: The Amn language, used as a common tongue for all the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms.

  Shahar Arameri: High Priestess of Itempas at the time of the Gods’ War. Her descendants are the Arameri family.

  Sieh: A godling, also called the Trickster. Eldest of all the godlings.

  Sigil: An ideograph of the gods’ language, used by scriveners to imitate the magic of the gods.

  Sky: Largest city on the Senm continent. Also, the palace of the Arameri family.

  Stone of Earth: An Arameri family heirloom.

  Tema: A Senmite kingdom.

  Time of the Three: Before the Gods’ War.

  Tokland: A High North nation.

  T’vril Arameri: A grandnephew of Dekarta.

  Uthr: An island nation.

  Vertical Gate: A magical means of transportation between Sky (the city) and Sky (the palace).

  Viraine Arameri: First Scrivener of the Arameri.

  Walking Death: A virulent plague that appears in frequent epidemics. Affects only those of low social status.

  Yeine Darr: A granddaughter of Dekarta and daughter of Kinneth.

  Ygreth: Wife of Dekarta, mother of Kinneth. Deceased.

  Zhakkarn of the Blood: A godling.

  APPENDIX

  2

  A Clarification of Terms1

  In the name of Itempas Skyfather, most Bright and peaceful.

  The Conspirators, as they are properly called,2 are like all gods in that they possess complete mastery over the material world3 as well as most things spiritual. Though not omnipotent—only the Three, when united, were so gifted—their individual power is so great relative to that of mortals that the difference is academic. However, the Bright Lord in His wisdom has seen fit to greatly limit the power of the Conspirators as a punishment, thus enabling their use as tools for the bett
erment of mortalkind.

  Their disparate natures impose further limitations, different for each individual. We refer to this as affinity, since gods’ language appears to have no term for it. Affinities can be either material or conceptual, or some combination thereof.4 An example of which is the Conspirator called Zhakkarn, who holds dominion over all things combat-related including weaponry (material), strategy (conceptual), and the martial arts (both). In actual battle she has the unique ability to replicate herself thousands of times over, becoming a literal one-woman army.5 However, she has also been observed to avoid any gathering of mortals for peaceful purposes, such as holiday celebrations. Indeed, being near religious paraphernalia symbolizing peace, such as the white jade ring worn by our order’s highest devotees, causes her acute discomfort.

  As the Conspirators are in fact prisoners of war, and we of the family are in fact their jailors, understanding the concept of affinity is essential as it represents our only means of imposing discipline.

  Additionally, we must understand the restrictions imposed upon them by Our Lord. The primary and common means by which the Conspirators have been limited is corporeality. It has been observed that a god’s natural state is immaterial,6 thus permitting the god to draw upon immaterial resources (e.g., the motion of heavenly bodies, the growth of living things) for sustenance and normal function. The Conspirators, however, are not permitted to enter the aetheric state and are instead required to maintain a physical locality at all times. This restricts their range of operability to the limits of their human senses, and it restricts their power to that which may be contained by this material form.7 This restriction also requires them to ingest food and drink in the mortal fashion in order to maintain strength. Experiments8 have shown that when deprived of sustenance or otherwise physically traumatized, the Conspirators’ magical abilities diminish greatly or entirely until they have returned to health. Due to the Stone of Earth’s role in their imprisonment, however, they perpetually retain the ability to regenerate aged or damaged flesh and revive from apparent death, even when their bodies are virtually destroyed. Therefore it is a misnomer to say that they have “mortal forms”; their physical bodies are only superficially mortal.

  In the next chapter, we will discuss the specific peculiarities of each of the Conspirators, and the means by which each might be better controlled.

  APPENDIX

  3

  Historical Record;

  Arameri Family Notes volume 1,

  from the collection of Dekarta Arameri.

  (Translated by Scrivener Aram Vernm, year 724 of the Bright, may He shine upon us forever. WARNING: contains heretical references, marked “HR”; used with permission of the Litaria.)

  You will know me as Aetr, daughter of Shahar—she who is now dead. This is an accounting of her death, for the records and for the easing of my heart.

  We did not know there was trouble. My mother was a woman who kept her own counsel at the best of times; this was a necessity for any priestess, most of all our brightest light. But High Priestess Shahar—I will call her that and not Mother, for she was more the former than the latter to me—was always strange.

  The elder brothers and sisters tell me she met the Dayfather (HR) once, as a child. She was born among the tribeless, those outcasts who pay no heed to any god or any law. Her mother took up with a man who viewed both mother and child as his property and treated them accordingly. After one torment too many Shahar fled to an old temple of the Three (HR), where she prayed for enlightenment. The Dayfather (HR) appeared to her and gave her enlightenment in the form of a knife. She used it on her stepfather while he slept, removing that darkness from her life once and for all.

  I say this not to slander her memory, but to illuminate: that was the kind of light Shahar valued. Harsh, glaring, hiding nothing. I make no wonder Our Lord treasured her so, because she was much like Him—quick to decide who merited her love, and who did not (HR).

  I think this is why He appeared to her again on that terrible day when everything began to weaken and die. He simply showed up in the middle of the Sunrise Greeting and gave her something sealed in a white crystal sphere. We did not know at the time that this was the last flesh of Lady Enefa (HR), now gone to twilight Herself. We knew only that the power of that crystal kept the weakening at bay, though only within the walls of our temple. Beyond it, the streets were littered with gasping people; the fields with sagging crops; the pastures with downed livestock.

  We saved as many as we could. Sun’s Flame, I wish it could have been more.

  And we prayed. That was Shahar’s command, and we were frightened enough that we obeyed even though it meant three days on our knees, weeping, begging, hoping against all hope that Our Lord prevailed in the conflict tearing apart the world. We took it in shifts, all of us, full ordinates and acolytes and Order-Keepers and common folk. We pushed aside the exhausted bodies of our comrades when they sagged from weariness, so that we could pray in their place. In between, when we dared look outside, we saw nightmares. Giggling black things, like cats but also monstrous children, flowed through the streets a-hunting. Red columns of fire, wide as mountains, fell in the distance; we saw the entire city of Dix immolated. We saw the shining bodies of the gods’ children falling from the sky, screaming and vanishing into aether before they hit the ground.

  Through this all, my mother remained in her tower room, gazing unflinchingly at the nightmare sky. When I went to check on her—many of our number had begun killing themselves in despair—I found her sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, the white sphere in her lap. She was growing old; that position must have hurt her. But she was waiting, she said, and when I asked her what for, she gave me her cold, white smile.

  “For the right moment to strike,” she said.

  I knew then that she meant to die. But what could I do? I am only a priestess, and she was my superior. Family meant nothing to her. It is the way of our order to marry and raise children in the ways of light, but my mother declared that Our Lord was the only husband she would accept. She got herself with child by some priest or another just to satisfy the elders. I and my twin brother were the result, and she never loved us. I say that without rancor; I have had thirty years to come to terms with it. But because of this, I knew my words would fall on deaf ears if I tried to talk her out of her chosen course.

  So instead I closed the door and went back to my prayers. The next morning there was an awful thunderclap of sound and force that seemed likely to blow apart the very stones of the Temple of Daylight Sky. When we picked ourselves up from this, amazed to find that we were still alive, my mother was dead.

  I was the one that found her. I, and the Dayfather (HR), who was there beside her body when I opened the door.

  I fell to my knees, of course, and mumbled something about being honored by His presence. But in truth? My eyes were only for my mother, who lay sprawled on the floor where I had last seen her. The white sphere was shattered beside her, and in her hands was something gray and glimmering. There was sorrow in Lord Itempas’s eyes when He touched my mother’s face to shut her eyes. I was glad to see that sorrow, because it meant my mother had achieved her fondest wish: pleasing her lord.

  “My true one,” He said. “All the others have betrayed me, save you.”

  Only later did I learn what He meant—that Lady Enefa (HR) and Lord Nahadoth (HR) had turned on Him, along with hundreds of their immortal children. Only later did Lord Itempas bring me His war prisoners, fallen gods in invisible chains, and tell me to use them to put the world to rights. It was too much for Bentr, my brother; we found him that night in the cistern chamber, his wrists slit in a barrel of wash water. There was only me to bear witness, and later to bear the burden, and right then to weep, because even if a god did honor my mother, what good did that do? She was still dead.

  And that is how the High Priestess of the Bright, Shahar Arameri, passed on.

  For you, Mother. I will live on, I will do as Our Lord
commands, I will remake the world. I will find some husband strong enough to help me shoulder the burden, and I will raise my children to be hard and cold and ruthless, like you. That is the legacy you wanted, isn’t it? In Our Lord’s name, it shall be yours.

  Gods help us all.

  Acknowledgments

  So many people to thank, so little space.

  Foremost thanks go to my father, who was my first editor and writing coach. I’m really sorry I made you read all that crap I wrote when I was fifteen, Dad. Hopefully this book will make up for it.

  Also equal thanks to the writing incubators that have nurtured me over the years: the Viable Paradise workshop, the Speculative Literature Foundation, the Carl Brandon Society, Critters.org, the BRAWLers of Boston, Black Beans, The Secret Cabal, and Altered Fluid. Never thought I’d get this far, and I wouldn’t have done it without all of you to kick me into action. (The bruises are fading nicely, thanks.)

  Then to Lucienne Diver, the hardest-working agent in all the land. You believed in me; thanks. Also to Devi Pillai, my editor, who totally floored me with the realization that editors could be fun, funny people, eviscerating manuscripts with a wink and a smile. Thanks for that, and for picking such a great title.

  And last but by no means least: thanks to my mother (hi, Mom!), my BFFs Deirdre and Katchan, and all the members of the old TU crew. To the staff and students of the universities I’ve worked at over the years; day jobs really shouldn’t be so much fun. Posthumous thanks to Octavia Butler, for going first and showing the rest of us how it’s done. And I always give thanks to God, for instilling the love of creation in me.

  I suppose I should also thank my roommate NukuNuku, who encouraged me with headbutts, swats to the face, fur in my keyboard, incessant distracting yowls, and… um… wait, why am I thanking her again? Never mind.

  THE

  BROKEN

  KINGDOMS