He sounded a lot like Papa Tempa. Except, he sounded like Papa Tempa mad. I squirmed. “I tried to fix things.”
“Things. Not people.”
“I didn’t know how!”
“Then you should have called someone who did. Yeine would have been able to repair the damage easily; why did you not summon her?”
Oh. I. “I, um, didn’t think of that.”
“No, you didn’t. Instead you had a meltdown.” He took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t be here, Sibling. Go somewhere else and grow up a bit before you return.”
“But—” He was turning to go! He was so mad he didn’t even want to talk to me. I stood where he’d left me, with my hand upraised to try and get his attention, but he didn’t look back. After a moment he was gone down the street.
Everything was awful and I hadn’t even been on the planet five minutes.
Should I leave, like Ia had told me? I didn’t want to, but maybe he was right. Maybe I needed to learn how to handle mortals better if I was going to be here in a place full of them. But how was I to learn anything about mortals better if I didn’t meet some?
That was it! I would go and meet the boy who was mad at me, again. I would find out how to make him less mad.
So I ran in the direction he had gone. He wasn’t far; mortals are very slow! I caught up to him on a street that had a lot fewer people on it, but more walls and statues and an air of importance. The mortal boy was standing in the shadows against a wall, across the street from a big domed building that felt more important than everything else around.
“Hello,” I said when I stopped beside him. I said it very carefully this time, in a whisper!
He jumped and stared at me, first surprised and then—oh. He was still mad. Still really mad. “Go away, godling.”
I bit my lip. “But I want to show you I can be good and not hurt mortals! Please? I’m really sorry.”
His jaw flexed. “You should apologize to the people you injured and killed!”
“But I can’t! They got NEGATED.” That was the word for what I’d seen Ia do. “You’re the only one that remembers. It was scary, wasn’t it? I’m sorry I scared you, even if I didn’t hurt you.”
He stared at me again, then sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of the hand that held the paper-on-sticks I’d seen before. “By all the infinite hells. Fine; apology accepted. Now leave. I have important—” Abruptly he paused. Looked at me. His eyes narrowed. “Huh.”
“Huh?” I straightened; I could tell he was thinking better thoughts about me! “Huh!”
That seemed to stop him from thinking better thoughts. “Gods, you’re a strange thing.”
“I’m not strange.” I scowled. “I just don’t know what I’m doing; that’s different.”
He blinked, then chuckled. “Well, at least you’re honest.” He took a deep breath, considered a moment longer, then said, “If you truly want to apologize, do me a favor, godling. Then I’ll consider all debts paid between us.”
I perked up. “OK! What favor?”
He held forth the paper thing. “I need you to take this scroll and put it somewhere.”
I took it carefully. It was even more fragile than most mortal stuff. “Where?”
“Look at me.” I did, and he took a deep breath, then yelled at me with his mind. I saw a place inside the big dome-building. A circle near its center, where a group of important-feeling women sat on cushions and stools and talked about important-sounding stuff. Not far from them, sitting in a basket nearby, were lots of scrolls just like the one I held. “There. Do you see it?”
I grimaced. “Yes. You didn’t have to yell it, though. I was right here.”
He blinked, then smiled. “Forgive me; I’ve never spoken without words to a godling before. I just knew it could be done.”
“Well, you should not be rude when you do it.” But then he raised his eyebrows, and I remembered I had been much ruder, so I felt bad again. “… Sorry.”
“Gods. Maybe I’m a fool to involve you in this.”
“No!” I inhaled and held up the scroll. “I can put it there! I promise!”
“Without being seen. You will need to—” He frowned, as if trying to remember something. “Dissipate your presence, I think is the wording you godlings use. Yes? Become your true immaterial self, take this scroll there, and make it material when no one’s watching, so that it’s just another scroll in the pile. All right?”
“OK! And then I’ll come back and tell you—”