The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(121)

Itempas glared at me. He had not been driven to his knees by the weight of our power, but it was a near thing. He stood now with back bowed, trembling all over, the white flames of his aura gone and his face sheened with a very mortal sweat. “I… will never… love you,” he gritted through his teeth.

I blinked in surprise. “Why would I want your love? You’re a monster, Itempas, destroying everything you claim to care for. I see such loneliness in you, such suffering—but all of it is your own doing.”

He flinched, his eyes widening. I sighed, shook my head, and stepped close, lifting a hand to his cheek. He flinched again at my touch, though I stroked him until he quieted.

“But I am only one of your lovers,” I whispered. “Haven’t you missed the other?”

And as I had expected, Itempas looked at Nahadoth. Ah, the need in his eyes! If there had been any hope of it, I would have asked Nahadoth to share this moment with us. Just one kind word might have speeded Itempas’s healing. But it would be centuries before Nahadoth’s own wounds had healed enough for that.

I sighed. So be it. I would do what I could to make it easier for both of them, and try again when the ages had worked their magic. I had made a promise, after all.

“When you’re ready to be among us again,” I whispered to Itempas, “I, at least, will welcome you back.” Then I kissed him, and filled that kiss with all the promise I could muster. But some of the surprise that passed between us was mine, for his mouth was soft despite its hard lines. Underneath that I could taste hot spices and warm ocean breezes; he made my mouth water and my whole body ache. For the first time I understood why Nahadoth loved him—and by the way his mouth hung open when I pulled back, I think he felt the same.

I looked over at Nahadoth, who sighed with too-human weariness. “He doesn’t change, Yeine. He can’t.”

“He can if he wants to,” I said firmly.

“You are naive.”

Maybe I was. But that didn’t make me wrong.

I kept my eyes on Itempas, though I went to Naha and took his hand. Itempas watched us like a man dying of thirst, within sight of a waterfall. It would be hard for him, the time to come, but he was strong. He was one of us. And one day, he would be ours again.

Power folded around Itempas like the petals of a great flower, scintillating. When the light faded, he was human—his hair no longer shining, his eyes merely brown. Handsome, but not perfect. Just a man. He fell to the floor, unconscious from the shock.

With that done, I turned to Nahadoth.

“No,” he said, scowling.

“He deserves the same chance,” I said.

“I promised him release already.”

“Death, yes. I can give him more.” I stroked Nahadoth’s cheek, which flickered beneath my hand. His face changed every moment now, beautiful no matter how it looked—though the mortals probably would not have thought so, since some of his faces were not human. I was no longer human myself. I could accept all of Nahadoth’s faces, so he had no need of any one in particular.

He sighed and closed his eyes at my touch, which both gratified and troubled me. He had been too long alone. I would have to take care not to exploit this weakness of his now, or he would hate me for it later.

Still, this had to be done. I said, “He deserves freedom, same as you.”

He gave me a heavy sigh. But his sigh took the form of tiny black stars, surprisingly bright as they sparkled and multiplied and coalesced into a human form. For a moment a negative phantasm of the god stood before me. I willed it to life, and it became a man: Nahadoth’s daytime self. He looked around, then stared at the shining being who had been his other half for so long. They had never met in all that time, but his eyes widened with realization.

“My gods,” he breathed, too awed to realize the irony of his oath.

“Yeine—”

I turned to find Sieh beside me in his child form. He stood taut, his green eyes searching my face. “Yeine?”

I reached for him, then hesitated. He was not mine, despite my possessive feelings.

He reached up just as hesitantly, touching my arms and face in wonder. “You really… aren’t her?”

“No. Just Yeine.” I lowered my hand, letting him choose. I would respect his decision if he rejected me. But…“Was this what you wanted?”

“Wanted?” The look on his face would have gratified colder hearts than mine. He put his arms around me, and I pulled him close and held him tightly. “Ah, Yeine, you’re still such a mortal,” he whispered against my breast. But I felt him trembling.

Over Sieh’s head, I looked at my other children. Stepchildren, perhaps; yes, that was a safer way to think of them. Zhakkarn inclined her head to me, a soldier acknowledging a new commander. She would obey, which was not quite what I wanted, but it would do for now.