The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(111)

I consoled myself with the fact that at least the poor soul in the oubliette was dead now.

Dekarta paused then, glaring behind me at the Enefadeh. “Nahadoth, you may take your customary position. The rest of you—I did not command your presence.”

To my surprise, Viraine answered. “It would serve well to have them here, my Lord. The Skyfather might be pleased to see his children, even these traitors.”

“No father is pleased to see children who have turned on him.” Dekarta’s gaze drifted to me. I wondered if it was me he saw, or just Kinneth’s eyes in my face.

“I want them here,” I said.

There was no visible reaction from him beyond a tightening of his already-thin lips. “Such good friends they are, to come and watch you die.”

“It would be harder to face this without their support, Grandfather. Tell me, did you allow Ygreth any company when you murdered her?”

He drew himself straight, which was rare for him. For the first time I saw a shadow of the man he had been, tall and haughty as any Amn, and formidable as my mother; it startled me to see the resemblance at last. He was too thin for the height now, though; it only emphasized his unhealthy gauntness. “I will not explain my actions to you, Granddaughter.”

I nodded. From the corner of my eye I saw the others watching. Relad looked anxious; Scimina, annoyed. Viraine—I could not read him, but he watched me with an intensity that puzzled me. I could not spare thought for it, however. This was perhaps my last chance to find out why my mother had died. I still believed Viraine had done the deed, yet that still made no sense; he’d loved her. But if he had been acting on Dekarta’s orders…

“You don’t need to explain,” I replied. “I can guess. When you were young, you were like these two—” I gestured to Relad and Scimina. “Self-absorbed, hedonistic, cruel. But not as heartless as they, were you? You married Ygreth, and you must have cared for her, or your mother wouldn’t have designated her your sacrifice when the time came. But you loved power more, and so you made the trade. You became clan head. And your daughter became your mortal enemy.”

Dekarta’s lips twitched. I could not tell if this was a sign of emotion, or the palsy that seemed to afflict him now and again. “Kinneth loved me.”

“Yes, she did.” Because that was the kind of woman my mother had been. She could hate and love at once; she could use one to conceal and fuel the other. She had been, as Nahadoth said, a true Arameri. Only her goals had been different.

“She loved you,” I said, “and I think you killed her.”

This time I was certain that pain crossed the old man’s face. It gave me a moment’s satisfaction, though no more than that. The war was lost; this skirmish meant nothing in the grand scale of things. I would die. And while my death would fulfill the desires of so many—my parents, the Enefadeh, myself—I could not face it in such clinical terms. My heart was full of fear.

In spite of myself I turned and looked at the Enefadeh, ranged behind me. Kurue would not meet my eyes, but Zhakkarn did, and she gave me a respectful nod. Sieh: he uttered a soft feline croon that was no less anguished for its inhumanity. I felt tears sting my eyes. Foolishness. Even if I weren’t destined to die today, I would be only a hiccup in his endless life. And I was the one who was dying, yet I would miss him terribly.

Finally I looked at Nahadoth, who had hunkered down on one knee behind me, framed by the gray cloud-chains. Of course they would force him to kneel, here in Itempas’s place. But it was me he watched, and not the brightening eastern sky. I had expected his expression to be impassive, but it was not. Shame and sorrow and a rage that had shattered planets were in his eyes, along with other emotions too unnerving to name.

Could I trust what I saw? Did I dare? After all, he would soon be powerful again. What did it cost him to pretend love now and thus motivate me to follow through with their plan?

I lowered my eyes, pained. I had been in Sky so long that I no longer trusted even myself.

“I did not kill your mother,” Dekarta said.

I started and turned to him. He’d spoken so softly that for a moment I thought I’d misheard. “What?”

“I didn’t kill her. I would never have killed her. If she had not hated me I would have begged her to return to Sky, even bring you along.” To my shock, I saw wetness on Dekarta’s cheeks; he was crying. And glaring at me through his tears. “I would even have tried to love you, for her sake.”

“Uncle,” said Scimina; her tone bordered on the insolent, practically vibrating with impatience. “While I can appreciate your kindness toward our cousin—”