Madding sighed. “Nahadoth wanted to kill him, Oree. A lot of my siblings did, too, after what he’d done. But the Three created this universe; if any one of them dies, it all ends. So he was sent here, where he can do the least damage. And maybe…” He paused, and again I heard that hint of longing in his voice. Hope, not quite stifled. “Maybe, somehow, he can… get better. See the error of his ways. I don’t know.”
“He said he was trying to apologize. Up on the roof. To… to…” I shuddered. We did not forget his name, but we didn’t say it, either, not if we could help it. “The Nightlord.”
Madding blinked in surprise. “Did he? That’s more than I ever thought he’d do.” He sobered. “But I doubt that will do any good. He killed my mother, Oree. Murdered her with poison, mutilated her body. Then spent the next few millennia killing or imprisoning any of us who dared to protest. It takes a little more than an apology to atone for that.”
I reached up to touch Madding’s face, reading his expression with my fingers. This helped me catch what I had missed. “You’re still angry about it.”
His brow furrowed. “Of course I am. I loved her! But”—he sighed heavily, leaning down to press his forehead against mine—“I loved him, too, once.”
I cupped his face in my hands, wishing I knew how to comfort him. This was family business, though, between father and son. It was Shiny’s problem to solve, if we ever found him.
There was one thing I could do, though.
“I’ll stay,” I said.
He started, pulling back to stare at me. Of course he knew what I meant. After a long moment, he said, “Are you sure?”
I almost laughed. I was shaky inside, not just from leftover panic. “No. But I don’t think I ever will be. I just… I know what’s most important to me.” I did laugh then, as I realized that Shiny had helped me decide, with that horrid kiss and the challenge in his words. I did, too, love Madding. And I wanted to be with him, even though it meant the end of the life I’d worked so hard to build and the end of my independence. Love meant compromise, after all—something I suspected Shiny did not understand.
Madding’s face was solemn as he nodded, accepting my decision. I liked that he did not smile. I think he knew what the decision cost me.
Instead, after a moment, he sighed and glanced at Kitr, who had carefully paid more attention to the street than to us for the past few minutes.
“I’m calling everyone in,” he said. “I don’t like this. No mere scrivener should be able to hide from us.” He glanced back, in the direction of the splashes of blood. “And I can’t sense Father anywhere. I especially don’t like that.”
“Nor can I,” said Kitr. “There are some of us with the power to hide him, but why would they? Unless…” She glanced at me, assessing and dismissing in a single sweep of her eyes. “You think this has something to do with Role? Your mortal there did find the body, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“Wait. There’s something…” This came from the other side of the street. I followed the voice and saw the sigil-etched outline of Madding’s scrivener. She stood looking up at the buildings nearby, holding a sheet of paper in her hands. A series of individual sigils had been drawn at the corners, with three rows of godwords in the middle. As I watched, one of the godwords and a sigil in the upper right corner began to glow more brightly. The scrivener, who apparently knew what this meant, gasped and took several steps back. I could not see her face, for she had no godwords written there, but terror filled her voice. “Oh, gods, I knew it! Look out! All of you, look—”
And suddenly hells filled the street.
No, not hells. Holes.
With a sound like tearing paper, they opened all around us, perfect circles of darkness. Some lay along the ground, some on the walls; some must’ve hung unsupported in midair. One of them opened right beneath the scrivener’s feet, practically the instant the last word left her lips. She didn’t have time to cry out before she fell into it and vanished. Another caught Kitr, who had turned to run to Madding’s side. It opened before her between one step and another, and she was gone. The racing dog cursed in Mekatish and darted around the first hole that opened at his feet, but then another opened above him. I saw his short fur stand on end, pulled upward, and then with a yelp he was sucked in as well.
Before I could react, Madding suddenly shoved me away from him, into the doorway of the house. Stumbling over the doorway’s raised step, I turned back, opening my mouth to speak—then saw the hole opening at his back. I felt the pull, its force powerful enough to jerk me forward a step even after I stopped.