The Broken Kingdoms
Page 95
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“My name is Oree Shoth,” I said. I tugged back the hood so he could see I was Maroneh. “I killed three Order-Keepers. You’ve been looking for me. For us.” I gestured tiredly at Shiny. “We need to speak to Previt Rimarn Dih.”
They separated us and put me in a small room with a chair, a table, and a cup of water. I drank the water, begged the silent guard for more, and when he brought no more, I put my head down on the table and slept. The guard had obviously been given no instructions about this, so he let me sleep for some time. Then I was roughly shaken awake.
“Oree Shoth,” said a familiar voice. “This is unexpected. I’m told you asked to see me.”
Rimarn. I had never been so glad to hear his cold voice.
“Yes,” I said. My voice was hoarse, dry. I was hot all over and shaking a little. I probably looked like all the infinite hells combined. “There’s a cult. Not heretics—Itempans. They’re called the New Lights. One of their members is a scrivener. Dateh.” I tried to remember Dateh’s family name and could not. Had he ever told me? Unimportant. “They call him the Nypri. He’s a demon, a real one, like in the stories. Demon blood is poison to gods. He’s been capturing godlings and killing them. He’s the one who killed Role and… and others.” My strength ran out. I hadn’t had much of it to begin with, which was why I’d spoken as quickly as I could. My head drooped, the table beckoning. Perhaps they would let me sleep some more.
“That’s quite a tale,” Rimarn said after an astonished moment. “Quite a tale. You do seem… distressed, though that could simply be because your protector, the god Madding, has gone missing. We keep expecting his body to turn up, like the other two we found, but so far, nothing.”
He’d said it to hurt me, to see my reaction, but nothing could hurt more than the fact of Madding’s death. I sighed. “Ina, probably, and Oboro. I… heard they’d gone missing.” Perhaps the discovery of their bodies had triggered the Nightlord’s dramatic warning.
“You’ll have to tell me how you heard that, since we’d witheld that information from the public.” I heard Rimarn’s fingers tap against the tabletop. “I imagine you’ve had a difficult few weeks. Been hiding out among the beggars, have you?”
“No. Yes. Just today, I mean.” I dragged my head up, trying to orient on his face. People who could see took me more seriously when I seemed to look at them. I willed him to believe me. “Please. I don’t care if you go after them yourself. You probably shouldn’t; Dateh’s powerful, and his wife is an Arameri. A fullblood. They’ve probably got an army up there. The godlings. Just tell the godlings. Nemmer.”
“Nemmer?” At that, at last, he sounded surprised. Did he know Nemmer, or perhaps know of her? That would figure; the Order-Keepers had to be keeping track of the various gods of Shadow. I imagined they would keep an especially close eye on Nemmer given that her nature defied the pleasant, comfortable order of the Bright.
“Yes,” I said. “Madding was… they were. Working together. Trying to find their siblings.” I was so tired. “Please. Can I have some water?”
For a moment, I thought he would do nothing. Then to my surprise, Rimarn rose and went to the room’s door. I heard him speak to someone outside. After a moment, he returned to the table, pressing the refilled cup into my hand. Someone else came in with him and stood along the room’s far wall, but I had no idea who this was. Probably just another Order-Keeper.
I spilled half the water trying to lift it. After a moment, Rimarn took it from my hands and held it to my lips. I drank it all, licked the rim, and said, “Thank you.”
“How were you injured, Oree?”
“We jumped out of the Tree.”
“You…” He fell silent for a moment, then sighed. “Perhaps you should begin at the beginning.”
I contemplated the monumental task of talking more and shook my head.
“Then why should I believe you?”
I wanted to laugh, because I had no answer for him. Did he want proof that I’d leapt from the Tree and survived? Proof that the Lights were up to no good? What would sway him, me dying on the spot?
“Proof isn’t necessary, Previt Dih.” This was a new voice, and it was enough to startle me awake, because I recognized it. Oh, dear gods, how well I recognized it.
“Faith should be enough,” said Hado, the New Lights’ Master of Initiates. He smiled. “Shouldn’t it, Eru Shoth?”
They separated us and put me in a small room with a chair, a table, and a cup of water. I drank the water, begged the silent guard for more, and when he brought no more, I put my head down on the table and slept. The guard had obviously been given no instructions about this, so he let me sleep for some time. Then I was roughly shaken awake.
“Oree Shoth,” said a familiar voice. “This is unexpected. I’m told you asked to see me.”
Rimarn. I had never been so glad to hear his cold voice.
“Yes,” I said. My voice was hoarse, dry. I was hot all over and shaking a little. I probably looked like all the infinite hells combined. “There’s a cult. Not heretics—Itempans. They’re called the New Lights. One of their members is a scrivener. Dateh.” I tried to remember Dateh’s family name and could not. Had he ever told me? Unimportant. “They call him the Nypri. He’s a demon, a real one, like in the stories. Demon blood is poison to gods. He’s been capturing godlings and killing them. He’s the one who killed Role and… and others.” My strength ran out. I hadn’t had much of it to begin with, which was why I’d spoken as quickly as I could. My head drooped, the table beckoning. Perhaps they would let me sleep some more.
“That’s quite a tale,” Rimarn said after an astonished moment. “Quite a tale. You do seem… distressed, though that could simply be because your protector, the god Madding, has gone missing. We keep expecting his body to turn up, like the other two we found, but so far, nothing.”
He’d said it to hurt me, to see my reaction, but nothing could hurt more than the fact of Madding’s death. I sighed. “Ina, probably, and Oboro. I… heard they’d gone missing.” Perhaps the discovery of their bodies had triggered the Nightlord’s dramatic warning.
“You’ll have to tell me how you heard that, since we’d witheld that information from the public.” I heard Rimarn’s fingers tap against the tabletop. “I imagine you’ve had a difficult few weeks. Been hiding out among the beggars, have you?”
“No. Yes. Just today, I mean.” I dragged my head up, trying to orient on his face. People who could see took me more seriously when I seemed to look at them. I willed him to believe me. “Please. I don’t care if you go after them yourself. You probably shouldn’t; Dateh’s powerful, and his wife is an Arameri. A fullblood. They’ve probably got an army up there. The godlings. Just tell the godlings. Nemmer.”
“Nemmer?” At that, at last, he sounded surprised. Did he know Nemmer, or perhaps know of her? That would figure; the Order-Keepers had to be keeping track of the various gods of Shadow. I imagined they would keep an especially close eye on Nemmer given that her nature defied the pleasant, comfortable order of the Bright.
“Yes,” I said. “Madding was… they were. Working together. Trying to find their siblings.” I was so tired. “Please. Can I have some water?”
For a moment, I thought he would do nothing. Then to my surprise, Rimarn rose and went to the room’s door. I heard him speak to someone outside. After a moment, he returned to the table, pressing the refilled cup into my hand. Someone else came in with him and stood along the room’s far wall, but I had no idea who this was. Probably just another Order-Keeper.
I spilled half the water trying to lift it. After a moment, Rimarn took it from my hands and held it to my lips. I drank it all, licked the rim, and said, “Thank you.”
“How were you injured, Oree?”
“We jumped out of the Tree.”
“You…” He fell silent for a moment, then sighed. “Perhaps you should begin at the beginning.”
I contemplated the monumental task of talking more and shook my head.
“Then why should I believe you?”
I wanted to laugh, because I had no answer for him. Did he want proof that I’d leapt from the Tree and survived? Proof that the Lights were up to no good? What would sway him, me dying on the spot?
“Proof isn’t necessary, Previt Dih.” This was a new voice, and it was enough to startle me awake, because I recognized it. Oh, dear gods, how well I recognized it.
“Faith should be enough,” said Hado, the New Lights’ Master of Initiates. He smiled. “Shouldn’t it, Eru Shoth?”
