The Inheritance Trilogy

by N. K. Jemisin

  When she got to her feet, I did, too, and we faced each other. Her tiny size always surprised me. I thought she should have been like her brothers, tall and terrible, showing some hint of her magnificence in her shape. But that was what I got for thinking like an Amn.

  “Why did it begin?” I asked. And because I was used to how gods thought and that question could have triggered a conversation about anything from the universe to the Gods’ War and everything in between, I added, “Sieh. How did we make him mortal? Why did we have such power over him, with him? Was it because…” It was difficult for me to admit, but I’d had the scriveners test me, and they had confirmed my suspicions. I was a demon, though the god-killing potency of my blood was negligible, and I had no magic, no specialness. Mother would have been so disappointed.

  “It had nothing to do with you,” Yeine said softly. I blinked. She looked away, sliding her hands into her pockets—a gesture that tore at my heart, because Sieh had done it so often. He’d even looked like her, a little. By design? Knowing him, yes.

  “But what—”

  “I lied,” she said, “about us staying wholly out of the mortal realm. There will be times in the future when we’ll have no choice but to return. It will be our task to assist the godlings, you see, when the time of metamorphosis comes upon them. When they become gods in their own right.”

  I jerked in surprise. “Become… what? Like Kahl?”

  “No. Kahl sought to force nature. He wasn’t ready for it. Sieh was.” She let out a long sigh. “I didn’t begin to understand until Tempa said that whatever Sieh had become, he was meant to become. His bond with you, losing his magic—perhaps these are the signs we’ll know to watch for next time. Or perhaps those were unique to Sieh. He was the oldest of our children, after all, and the first to reach this stage.” She looked at me and shrugged. “I would have liked to see the god he became. Though I still would have lost him then, even if he’d lived.”

  I digested this in wonder and felt a little fear at the implications. Godlings could grow into gods? Did that mean gods, then, could grow into things like the Maelstrom? If they could somehow live long enough, would mortals become godlings?

  Too many things to think about. “What do you mean, you would have lost him if he’d lived?”

  “This realm can abide only three gods. If Sieh had survived and become whatever he was meant to be, his fathers and I would have had to send him away.”

  Death or exile. Which would I have preferred? Neither. I want him back, and Deka, too. “But where could he have gone?”

  “Elsewhere.” She smiled at my look, with a hint of Sieh’s mischief. “Did you think this universe was all there was? There’s room out there for so much more.” Her smile faded then, just a little. “He would have enjoyed the chance to explore it, too, as long as he didn’t have to do it alone.”

  The Goddess of Earth looked at me then, and suddenly I understood. Sieh, Deka, and I; Nahadoth, Yeine, and Itempas. Nature is cycles, patterns, repetition. Whether by chance or some unknowable design, Deka and I had begun Sieh’s transition to adulthood—and perhaps, when the chrysalis of his mortal life had finally split to reveal the new being, he would not have transformed alone.

  Would I have wanted to go with him and Deka, to rule some other cosmos?

  Just dreams now, like broken stone.

  Yeine dusted off her pants, stretched her arms above her head, and sighed. “Time to go.”

  I nodded. “We will continue to serve you, Lady, whether you’re here or not. What prayers shall we say for you at the dawn and twilight hour?”

  She threw me an odd look, as if checking to see if I was joking. I wasn’t. This seemed to surprise and unnerve her; she laughed, though it sounded a bit forced.

  “Say whatever you want,” she said finally. “Someone might be listening, but it won’t be me. I have better things to do.”

  She vanished.

  Eventually I wandered back into the palace, and to the Temple, where the assembly was breaking up at last. Merchants and nobles and scriveners drifted down the hall in knots, still arguing with each other. They ignored me completely as I came to the Temple entrance.

  “Thanks for leaving,” said Lady Nemmer as she emerged looking thoroughly disgruntled. “We got exactly one thing done, aside from setting a date for a future useless meeting.”

  I smiled at her annoyance; she scowled back, the room growing oddly shadowed. But she wasn’t really angry, so I asked, “And the thing you got done was?”

  “We chose a name.” She waved a hand, irritable. “A pretentious and needlessly poetic one, but the mortals outnumbered Kitr and I, so we couldn’t vote it down. Aeternat. It’s one of our words. It means—”

  I cut her off. “I don’t need to know, Lady Nemmer. Please convey to whoever’s speaking for this Aeternat that they should inform me when they’re ready for the transfer of military command and funds.”

  She looked at me in real surprise, then finally nodded. We turned at the sound of someone calling my name from down the corridor: Datennay. He’d sat in on the Aeternat’s session. I would have to quickly dissuade him from doing that, now that he was my husband. Beyond him was Ramina, who watched me with a solemn sorrow in his expression that I understood completely. He caught my eye over the heads of a gaggle of shouting priests and smiled, however, inclining his head in approval. It warmed me. I would need to have his true sigil removed sometime soon.

  And I would need to send a note to Morad, I reminded myself. She’d quit her position and gone home to southern Senm, to no one’s surprise. I still hoped to entice her back eventually; competent stewards were hard to find. I would not press Morad, however. She deserved the time and space to mourn in her own way.

  While Datennay approached, I inclined my head to Nemmer in farewell. “Welcome to ruling the world, Lady Nemmer. I wish you enjoyment of it.”

  She spoke a godword so foul that one of the nearby lanterns turned to melted metal-and-oil sludge and crashed to the floor. As I walked away, I heard her cursing again—in some mortal tongue this time, more softly, as she bent to clean up the mess.

  Datennay met me halfway down the hall. He hesitated before offering me his hand. Once, I had discouraged him from displaying affection in public. Now, however, I took his hand firmly, and he blinked in surprise, flashing a smile.

  “These people are all mad,” I said. “Take me away from here.”

  As we walked away, something pulsed hot between my breasts, and I remembered I had forgotten to tell Lady Yeine about the necklace we’d found on Sieh’s body. The cord had been broken, half the smaller beads lost to whatever had snapped it, but the central bead—the peculiar yellow one—was fine. It was surprisingly heavy, and sometimes, if I was not imagining things, it became oddly warm to the touch. I had put the thing on a chain around my own neck, because I felt better wearing it. Less alone.

  Lady Yeine would not mind if I kept it, I decided. Then I stroked the little sphere as if to comfort it, and walked on.

  CODA

  SHAHAR ARAMERI DIED IN BED at the age of seventy, leaving two daughters and a son—half-Teman fullbloods unmarked by any sigil—to carry on the family. The Arameri still owned many businesses and properties, and they remained one of the most powerful clans on the Senm continent. They just had less. Shahar’s children immediately began scheming to get more upon her death, but that is a matter for other tales.

  The godling Ahad, called Beloved by his fellow godlings, watched over Glee Shoth for the entire year that she slept after her legendary battle with Kahl. When she finally awoke, he took her away from Echo and the new city developing around its lake. They settled in a small northwestern Senm town, where they spent some years looking after an elderly, blind Maro woman until her death. There they remained for another hundred years or so, never marrying, raising no children, but always together. She lived a long time for a mortal, and gave him a proper name of his own before she died. He tells no one that name, it is said, g
uarding it like something precious and rare.

  Those mortals who worshipped the Goddess of Earth claimed ownership of the corpse of the World Tree. By the time of Shahar’s death, they had excavated and preserved enough of its trunk to house a small city, which began to call itself World. They lived in the Tree and on it, said their prayers at the skeleton of its roots, dedicated their sons and daughters to its broken branches. Fires, and fire-godlings, were not allowed in this city. They lit their chambers at night with pieces of Sky.

  The Aeternat… well. It was not eternal. But that, too, is a matter for other tales.

  So many tales, really. They are sure to be exciting. A shame that I will get to hear none of them.

  I? Oh, yes.

  When Shahar exhaled her last breath I awakened, midwifed into existence by her mortality. My first act was to turn in space and time and kiss Deka awake, beside me. Then I called to my En, and it shot across realities and blazed into joyous, welcoming life somewhere far, far beyond the realms of the Three. It would be the seed-star of a new realm. Our realm. It sent out great arcing plumes of fire, silly little ball of gas, and I petted it silent and promised it worlds to warm just as soon as I’d taken care of other business.

  Then we found Shahar, and gathered her up, and took her with us. She was, to say the least, surprised. But not displeased. We are together now, the three of us, for the rest of forever. I will never be alone again.

  My name is not Sieh, and I am no longer a trickster. I will think of a new name and calling, eventually—or some one of you, my children, will name me. Make of me, of us, whatever you wish. We are yours until time ends, and perhaps a little beyond.

  And we will all create such wonderful new things, you and we, out here beyond the many skies.

  the east of the islands; site of the first Arameri palace. Destroyed by Nahadoth.

  Mnasat: The third ranking of godlings; godlings born of godlings. Generally weaker than godlings born of the Three.

  Mortal realm: The universe, created by the Three.

  Nahadoth: One of the Three. The Nightlord.

  Nemmer: A niwwah godling who lives in Shadow. The Lady of Secrets.

  Nimaro Reservation: A protectorate of the Arameri, estabslished after the Maroland’s destruction.

  Niwwah: The first ranking of godlings, born of the Three; the Balancers. More stable but sometimes less powerful than the elontid.

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

  Nsana: A niwwah godling; the Dreammaster.

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

  Order-Keepers: Acolytes (priests-in-training) of the Order of Itempas, responsible for maintenance of public order.

  Pilgrim: Worshippers of the Gray Lady who journey to Shadow to pray at the World Tree.

  Previt: One of the higher rankings for priests in the Order of Itempas.

  Promenade, the: Northernmost edge of Gateway Park in East Shadow.

  Pymexe: (masculine;feminine is pymoxe) Heir to one of the three ruling positions in the Teman Triadice. Not hereditary; Triadic heirs are chosen at an early age, after a rigorous selection process involving official examinations and interviews.

  Ramina Arameri: A fullblood; half brother of Remath Arameri.

  Remath Arameri: Current head of the Arameri family; mother of Shahar and Dekarta.

  Salon: Headquarters for the Nobles’ Consortium.

  Script: A series of sigils, used by scriveners to produce complex or sequential magical effects.

  Scrivener: A scholar of the gods’ written language.

  Semisigil: A modern version of the Arameri blood sigil, modified to remove anachronistic scripts.

  Senm: Southernmost and largest continent of the world.

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

  Shadow: The city beneath Sky.

  Shahar Arameri: Current heir of the Arameri Family. Also high priestess of Itempas at the time of the Gods’ War. Matriarch of 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: The palace of the Arameri family.

  Sky-in-Shadow: Official name for the palace of the Arameri and the city beneath it.

  Teman Protectorate, the: A Senmite kingdom.

  Time of the Three: Before the Gods’ War.

  True sigil: An Arameri blood sigil in the traditional style.

  T’vril Arameri: A former head of the Arameri family.

  Usein Darr: A Darren warrior; heir to the Baron Darr.

  Wesha: West Shadow.

  White Hall: The Order of Itempas’s houses of worship, education, and justice.

  World Tree, the: An evergreen tree estimated to be 125,000 feet in height, created by the Gray Lady. Sacred to worshippers of the Lady.

  Wrath Arameri: Captain of the White Guard in Sky.

  Yeine: One of the Three. The current Goddess of Earth, Mistress of Twilight and Dawn.

  Acknowledgments

  Going to keep it short this time. This is the longest novel I’ve ever written, after all, and I’m plum tuckered out.

  I need to thank you.

  Seriously. That’s not just pretentious “I’d like to thank all the little people” bullshit. A writer is a writer whether she’s read or not, but no writer can have a career in this business unless she satisfies her readers. And really, even that’s not enough, not in these days of the long tail and a quarter-million new titles published per year in the United States alone. A writer needs readers who will find other readers, and grab them by the arm, and say to them, Read this book right now. She needs readers who will post reviews on retailer sites and argue with other readers over their ratings; readers who will select her work for their monthly book club meetings and discuss it over tea and cake; readers who will tweet about the book’s surprises; readers who’ll put the book on a literature syllabus. She even needs people who’ll rant that they hate the book—because those kinds of strong reactions make people curious.

  The opposite of liking is not disliking, after all. The opposite of liking is apathy.

  All new writers have Something to Prove—me more than most, maybe. But because so many of you have been anything but apathetic, I know I’ve done a good job. So thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  THE

  AWAKENED

  KINGDOM

  A SEQUEL NOVELLA TO THE

  INHERITANCE TRILOGY

  I am born! Hello!

  Many things happen.

  The end!

  Hello again! How are you? I am fine. I have learned more about Proper Ways from Papa Tempa. Papa said that what I did before was not the Proper Way to tell a story, so I will do it over. I do not like the way he says I should tell it, though. That is BORING. I want to make you feel like I feel! So I will talk like I thinked when stuff was happening, and I will start from the very beginning, when my thinking was not so good because I was extra new.

  I am glad you are with me. You are new, too, and now we can be new together! We have much to learn, everyone says, but I have learned a great deal already! I will share it with you. See, here is what I learned today: how to speak to others without making them angry and how to run if I do make them angry and how not to blur myself into another so that both of us are lost and how to come close to MAELSTROM without dissolution and how to name all the names of all the pieces of EXISTENCE. I learned that besides Maelstrom and existence there is also NOTHINGNESS and it goes on for a long long way. Forever! It is not safe to go there, says Naha. She took me to the edge of the gods’ realm and showed me. It is very scary, but then so is Naha.

  Do you know Naha? And Papa Tempa and Mama Yeine? You should know th
em! They encompass all the fullness of existence that the soul can grasp. I will take you to meet them. They will like you, you’ll see!

  Hello! Mama Yeine says I do not have to say hello every time I see someone I already know.

  Also, Papa Tempa tells me I am doing a wrong thing again. I am supposed to respect TIME, because that is a thing he has made for the place where mortals live, and you come from there. You might forget this if I tell it to you now, so I will tell it to you later and you will remember it when you reach now. That will happen in the gods’ realm, when you go there, which is where you are now, so don’t forget!

  I do not know why you are confused. I explained it fine. OK! Now I will tell my story.

  Imagine that you have just been born.

  It is very confusing. (Not like time. Time is easy.) There is a lot of pain and messiness and then suddenly everything is new and different and cold and bright! And then something says Be and there you are. And while you lie there screaming there are hands that touch you, and warmth that folds around you, and there are voices, and they are familiar because you have heard them since long before your birth. So you are comforted.

  But you scream again because the world blurs and that is when suddenly you discover words like agoraphobia and vertigo and you and other. You do not want to learn these words, but you have no choice! You know world, too, which you sort of knew before, except it once meant something entirely different. Once world was warm and dark and close. Now world is different, and you must start all over again learning how it works. This is not fair, but world—the world—is often unfair.

  And then a really bad thing happens.

  You were wanted! Mama and Papa and Naha wanted you lots. You know this, and you know there is a space carved into existence which is shaped like a godling, and that godling is supposed to be you! The hole was left when Biggest Sibling went away. By that I mean, he died. His name was Sieh. Now imagine you are supposed to be Sieh! Well, not really. Sieh is dead. But you were made to fill the hole he left behind—to be the Trickster and the wind, mischief and cruelty, the cat and the boy and the cranky old man. Imagine the Three have shaped you so, so carefully to match the hole. You will be different from Sieh-that-was, but you will be important in the same way. You will be powerful in the same way. The planets will follow you and the mortals will tell tales of you and you will steal all the suns, but only keep the ones that want to be your friend. Without a Trickster the universe will not end, but it will be a much duller place.