The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms
Page 38
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Oh, yes. I blinked in surprise, and he smiled. Kinneth was like Dekarta, one of the few Arameri who actually took our role as Itempass chosen seriously. She was death on unbelievers. Death on anyone, really, who threatened the peaceor her power. He shook his head, his smile nostalgic now. You think Sciminas bad? Scimina has no vision. Your mother was purpose incarnate.
He was enjoying himself again, reading the discomfort on my face like a sigil. Perhaps I was still young enough to see her through the worshipful eyes of childhood, but the ways Id heard my mother described since coming to Sky simply did not fit my memories. I remembered a gentle, warm woman, full of wry humor. She could be ruthless, oh yesas befitted the wife of any ruler, especially under the circumstances in Darr at the time. But to hear her compared favorably against Scimina and praised by Dekarta that was not the same woman who had raised me. That was another woman, with my mothers name and background but an entirely different soul.
Viraine specialized in magics that could affect the soul. Did you do something to my mother? I wanted to ask. But that would have been far, far too simple an explanation.
Youre wasting your time, you know, Viraine said. He spoke softly, and his smile had faded during my long silence. Your mother is dead. Youre still alive. You should spend more time trying to stay that way, and less time trying to join her.
Was that what I was doing?
Good day, Scrivener Viraine, I said, and left.
* * *
I got lost then, figuratively and literally.
Sky is not generally an easy place in which to get lost. The corridors all look the same, true. The lifts get confused sometimes, carrying riders where they want to be rather than where they intend to go. (Im told this was especially a problem for lovesick couriers.) Still, the halls are normally thick with servants who are happy to aid anyone wearing a highblood mark.
I did not ask for help. I knew this was foolish, but some part of me did not want direction. Viraines words had cut deep, and as I walked through the corridors I worried at the wounds with my thoughts.
It was true that I had neglected the inheritance contest in favor of learning more about my mother. Learning the truth would not bring the dead back to life, but it could certainly get me killed. Perhaps Viraine was right, and my behavior reflected some suicidal tendency. It had been less than a turn of the seasons since my mothers death. In Darr I would have had time and family to help me mourn properly, but my grandfathers invitation had cut that short. Here in Sky I hid my griefbut that did not mean I felt it any less.
In this frame of mind I stopped and found myself at the palace library.
Tvril had shown me this on my first day in Sky. Under ordinary circumstances I would have been awed; the library occupied a space larger than the temple of Sar-enna-nem, back in my land. Skys library contained more books, scrolls, tablets, and spheres than I had seen in my entire life. But I had been in need of a more peculiar kind of knowledge since my arrival in Sky, and the accumulated lore of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms could not help me with that.
Still for some reason, I now felt drawn to the place.
I wandered through the librarys entrance hall and was greeted only by the sounds of my own faintly echoing footsteps. The ceiling was thrice the height of a man, braced by enormous round pillars and a maze of floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Both cases and pillars were covered by shelf upon shelf of books and scrolls, some accessible only by the ladders that I saw in each corner. Here and there were tables and chairs, where one might lounge and read for hours.
Yet there seemed to be no one else around, which surprised me. Were the Arameri so inured to luxury that they took even this treasure trove for granted? I stopped to examine a wall of tomes as thick as my head, then I realized I couldnt read a single one. Senmitethe Amn languagehad become the common tongue since the Arameris ascension, but most nations were still allowed their own languages so long as they taught Senmite, too. These looked like Teman. I checked the next wall; Kenti. Somewhere in the place there was probably a Darren shelf, but I had no idea of where to begin finding it.
Are you lost?
I jumped, and turned to see a short, plump old Amn woman a few feet away, peering around the curve of a pillar. I hadnt noticed her at all. By the sour look on her face, shed probably thought herself alone in the library, too.
I I realized I had no idea what to say. I hadnt come in for any purpose. To stall, I said, Is there a shelf here in Darren? Or at least, where are the Senmite books?
Wordlessly, the old woman pointed right behind me. I turned and saw three shelves of Darren books. The Senmite starts around the corner.
Feeling supremely foolish, I nodded thanks and studied the Darren shelf. For several minutes I stared at them before realizing that half were poetry, and the other half collections of tales Id heard all my life. Nothing useful.
He was enjoying himself again, reading the discomfort on my face like a sigil. Perhaps I was still young enough to see her through the worshipful eyes of childhood, but the ways Id heard my mother described since coming to Sky simply did not fit my memories. I remembered a gentle, warm woman, full of wry humor. She could be ruthless, oh yesas befitted the wife of any ruler, especially under the circumstances in Darr at the time. But to hear her compared favorably against Scimina and praised by Dekarta that was not the same woman who had raised me. That was another woman, with my mothers name and background but an entirely different soul.
Viraine specialized in magics that could affect the soul. Did you do something to my mother? I wanted to ask. But that would have been far, far too simple an explanation.
Youre wasting your time, you know, Viraine said. He spoke softly, and his smile had faded during my long silence. Your mother is dead. Youre still alive. You should spend more time trying to stay that way, and less time trying to join her.
Was that what I was doing?
Good day, Scrivener Viraine, I said, and left.
* * *
I got lost then, figuratively and literally.
Sky is not generally an easy place in which to get lost. The corridors all look the same, true. The lifts get confused sometimes, carrying riders where they want to be rather than where they intend to go. (Im told this was especially a problem for lovesick couriers.) Still, the halls are normally thick with servants who are happy to aid anyone wearing a highblood mark.
I did not ask for help. I knew this was foolish, but some part of me did not want direction. Viraines words had cut deep, and as I walked through the corridors I worried at the wounds with my thoughts.
It was true that I had neglected the inheritance contest in favor of learning more about my mother. Learning the truth would not bring the dead back to life, but it could certainly get me killed. Perhaps Viraine was right, and my behavior reflected some suicidal tendency. It had been less than a turn of the seasons since my mothers death. In Darr I would have had time and family to help me mourn properly, but my grandfathers invitation had cut that short. Here in Sky I hid my griefbut that did not mean I felt it any less.
In this frame of mind I stopped and found myself at the palace library.
Tvril had shown me this on my first day in Sky. Under ordinary circumstances I would have been awed; the library occupied a space larger than the temple of Sar-enna-nem, back in my land. Skys library contained more books, scrolls, tablets, and spheres than I had seen in my entire life. But I had been in need of a more peculiar kind of knowledge since my arrival in Sky, and the accumulated lore of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms could not help me with that.
Still for some reason, I now felt drawn to the place.
I wandered through the librarys entrance hall and was greeted only by the sounds of my own faintly echoing footsteps. The ceiling was thrice the height of a man, braced by enormous round pillars and a maze of floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Both cases and pillars were covered by shelf upon shelf of books and scrolls, some accessible only by the ladders that I saw in each corner. Here and there were tables and chairs, where one might lounge and read for hours.
Yet there seemed to be no one else around, which surprised me. Were the Arameri so inured to luxury that they took even this treasure trove for granted? I stopped to examine a wall of tomes as thick as my head, then I realized I couldnt read a single one. Senmitethe Amn languagehad become the common tongue since the Arameris ascension, but most nations were still allowed their own languages so long as they taught Senmite, too. These looked like Teman. I checked the next wall; Kenti. Somewhere in the place there was probably a Darren shelf, but I had no idea of where to begin finding it.
Are you lost?
I jumped, and turned to see a short, plump old Amn woman a few feet away, peering around the curve of a pillar. I hadnt noticed her at all. By the sour look on her face, shed probably thought herself alone in the library, too.
I I realized I had no idea what to say. I hadnt come in for any purpose. To stall, I said, Is there a shelf here in Darren? Or at least, where are the Senmite books?
Wordlessly, the old woman pointed right behind me. I turned and saw three shelves of Darren books. The Senmite starts around the corner.
Feeling supremely foolish, I nodded thanks and studied the Darren shelf. For several minutes I stared at them before realizing that half were poetry, and the other half collections of tales Id heard all my life. Nothing useful.
