But I had wanted to try. Gods, how I'd wanted to try.
Shiny sat there, gazing at me. No recriminations, no attempts to change my mind. That was not his way. I had known from the moment I began this that it wouldn't take much. Not in words, anyhow.
Then he got up, came around the table, and crouched in front of me. I turned, moving slowly and oh so carefully to face him. Control. That was his way, wasn't it? I tried for it and held myself still. I fought the urge to touch his face and learn how badly he now thought of me.
"Did they threaten you?" he asked.
I froze.
He waited, then when I did not answer, sighed. He got to his feet.
"That isn't why," I blurted. Suddenly it was powerfully important that he know I was not acting out of fear for my own life. "I didn't… I would rather have let them-"
"No." He touched my cheek then, once and briefly. It hurt. Like breaking my arm all over again. Worse. That was all it took to shatter my careful control. I began to tremble, so much that I could barely get the words out.
"We can fight them," I blurted. "The Lady, she doesn't really want to do this. We can run or-"
"No, Oree," he said again. "We can't."
At this, I fell silent. It was not the inability to think this time, just the utter certainty of his words. They left me with nothing to say.
He rose. "You should live, too, Oree," he said.
Then he went to the door. His boots were there, neatly placed beside mine. He pulled them on, his movements neither swift nor slow. Efficient. He put on the lambskin coat I'd bought for him at the beginning of the winter, because he kept forgetting he could get sick, and I hadn't felt like nursing him through pneumonia.
I inhaled to say something. Let the breath out. Sat there, trembling.
He walked out of the house.
I had known he would go like that, too, with nothing but the clothes on his back. He wasn't human enough to care about possessions or money. I heard his heavy tread move down the steps, then down the dusty street. They faded into the distance, lost in the sounds of night.
I went upstairs. The bathroom was spotless as usual. I took off my robe and had a long soak, as hot as I could bear the water. I steamed even after I dried off.
It did not hit me until I picked up a sponge to clean the tub. Now that Shiny was gone, I would have to do that myself from now on.
I finished the tub, then sat down in it and wept for the rest of the night.
***
So now you know it all.
You needed to know it, and I needed to tell it. I've spent the past six months trying not to think about all that's happened, which wasn't the wisest thing to do. It was easier, though. Better to go to bed and simply sleep, rather than lie there all night feeling lonely. Better to concentrate on the tap-tap of my stick as I walk, rather than think of how, once, I could have navigated by the faint outline of some godling's footprints. I've lost so much.
But I've gained some things, too. Like you, my little surprise.
On some level I knew it was a risk. Gods don't breed as easily as us, but they made him more mortal than any god has ever been. I don't know what it means that they left him this ability when they took so much else. I suppose they just forgot.
Then again, I can't help remembering that evening, at my kitchen table, when the Lady Yeine touched me. She is the Mistress of Dawn, the goddess of life; surely she sensed you, or at least your imminence, while we sat there. That makes me wonder: did she notice you and let you live? Or did she…?
She's a strange one, the Lady.
Even more strangely, she listened to me.
I've now heard the news from too many merchants and gossips to discount: there are gods everywhere. Singing in rain forests, dancing atop mountains, staking out beaches and flirting with the clam-boys. Most large cities have a resident godling these days, or two or three. Strafe is trying to attract one right now; the town elders say it's good for business. I hope they succeed.
Soon the world will be a far more magical place. Just right, I think, for you.
And-
No.
No, I know better than to think it.
No.
And yet.
I lie here in my lonely bed, watching for the sunrise. I feel it coming-the light warms its way along the blankets and my skin. The days are getting shorter with the coming of winter. I'm guessing you'll be born around the solstice.
Are you still listening? Can you hear me in there?
I think you can. I think you were made that second time, when Shiny became his true self for me, just a little. Just enough. I think he knew it, too, like the Lady knew it, and maybe even the Nightlord. This isn't the sort of thing he would do by accident. He'd seen that I missed my old life. This was his way of helping me focus on the new one. And also… his way of making up for past mistakes.
Gods. Men. Damn him; he should've asked me. I could die giving birth to you, after all. Probably not, but it's the principle of the thing.
Well.
I hope you're listening, because sometimes gods-and demons-do that. I think that you're awake, aware, and that you understand everything I've said.
Because I think I saw you, yesterday morning when I woke up. I think my eyes worked again, just for a moment, and you were the light I saw.
I think that if I wait 'til dawn and watch closely, I'll see you again this morning.
And I think that if I wait long enough and listen carefully, one day I'll hear footsteps on the road outside. Maybe a knock at the door. He'll have learned basic courtesy by then from someone. We can hope for that, can't we? Either way, he'll come inside. He'll wipe his feet, at least. He'll hang his coat.
And then you and I, together, will welcome him home.
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The Broken Kingdoms it-2 Page 32
