The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(165)

I stopped at the door. I didn’t care, I told myself. My life was ruined and it was Shiny’s fault. He didn’t care. Why did it matter what he and Madding said to each other? Why did I still bother trying to understand him?

“—he could love you again,” Madding said. “Pretend that means nothing to you, Father, if you like. But I know—”

Father. I blinked. Father?

“—in spite of everything,” Madding said. “Believe that or not, as you will.” The words had an air of finality. The argument was over, one-sided as it had been.

I stepped back against the bedroom wall and out of the doorway, though that would do me little good if Madding came back into the room. But although I heard Madding’s footsteps leave whatever room they’d been in and stomp away, they headed downstairs, not back to his bedroom.

As I stood there against the wall, mulling over what I’d heard, Shiny left the room as well. He walked past Madding’s room, and I braced myself for him to notice that I was out of bed and perhaps come in and find me. His footsteps didn’t even slow. He headed upstairs.

Which one to follow? I wavered for a moment, then went after Madding. At least I knew he would talk to me.

I found him standing atop the largest of his pools, glowing bright enough to make the whole chamber visible as his magic reflected off walls and water. I stopped behind him, savoring the play of light across his facets, the shift and ripple of liquid aquamarine flesh as he moved, the patterned flicker of the walls. He had folded his hands together, head bowed as if to pray. Perhaps he was praying. Above the godlings were the gods, and above the gods was Maelstrom, the unknowable. Perhaps even it prayed to something. Didn’t we all need someone to turn to sometimes?

So I sat down and waited, not interrupting, and presently Madding lowered his hands and turned to me.

“I should have kept my voice down,” he said softly, amid the chime of crystal.

I smiled, drawing up my knees and wrapping my arms around them. “I find it hard not to yell at him, too.”

He sighed. “If you could have seen him before the war, Oree. He was glorious then. We all loved him—competed for his love, basked in his attention. And he loved us back in his quiet, steady way. He’s changed so much.”

His body gave off one last liquid shimmer and then settled back into his stocky, plain-featured human shell, which I had come to love just as much over the years. He was still naked, his hair still loose, still standing on water. His eyes carried memories and sorrow far too ancient for any mortal man. He would never look truly ordinary, no matter how hard he tried.

“So he’s your father.” I spoke slowly. I did not want to voice aloud the suspicion I’d begun to develop. I hardly wanted to believe it. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of godlings, and there’d been even more before the Gods’ War. Not all of them had been parented by the Three.

But most of them had been.

Madding smiled, reading my face. I’d never been able to hide anything from him. “There aren’t many of us left who haven’t disowned him.”

I licked my lips. “I thought he was a godling. Just a godling, I mean, not…” I gestured vaguely above my head, meaning the sky.

“He’s not just a godling.”

Confirmation, unexpectedly anticlimactic. “I thought the Three would be… different.”

“They are.”

“But Shiny…”

“He’s a special case. His current condition is temporary. Probably.”

Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. I knew I was not especially knowledgeable about the affairs of gods, despite my personal association with some of them. I knew as well as anyone that the priests taught what they wanted us to know, not necessarily what was true. And sometimes even when they told the truth, they got it wrong.

Madding came over, sitting down beside me. He gazed out over the pools, his manner subdued.

I needed to understand. “What did he do?” It was the question I had asked Sieh.

“Something terrible.” His smile had faded during my moment of stunned silence. His expression was closed, almost angry. “Something most of us will never forgive. He got away with it for a while, but now the debt has come due. He’ll be repaying it for a long time.”

Sometimes they got it very wrong. “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

He lifted a hand and drew a knuckle across my cheek, brushing a stray curl of hair aside.

“He really was lucky to find you,” he said. “I have to confess, I’ve been a bit jealous. There’s still a little of the old him left. I can see why you’d be drawn to him.”