The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(458)

But it was all wrong! He was worse! I had made him worse and IT WAS ALL WRONG.

“You’re not nothing!” I shouted it, not with my voice this time but everything else, and the planet shook. I set my feet and crouched and yelled at the ground without a voice, because I didn’t want to hurt anybody but I was hurting, too, like nothing I had ever felt before, and I had to stop it! I had to make Eino know! “You’re not! You’re not! You’re not nothing and I won’t ever let you be nothing!”

“Shill!” Fahno cried, but I didn’t hear her. I didn’t want to hear her. I didn’t want the mortal realm to be like this. It shouldn’t be like this! I understood now: Eino was like me, not the right shape for the role his parents needed him to fill. He was not the decorative, obedient thing that everyone in Darr wanted him to be, and it was hurting him that he couldn’t be. Nobody should try to make children be what they aren’t. Everyone should just be what they were supposed to be! Everything was wrong and terrible! ALL EXISTENCE WAS WRONG AND TERRIBLE AND IT SHOULD BE BETTER!

I screamed this at the ground, at existence, and tried to make it be, but I was not one of the Three or even a particularly strong godling. Nothing got any better.

And then soft, perfumed hands took hold of me, and big colored sleeves folded round me, and Eino’s hard chest pressed against my face. “Hush, Shill,” he said. “Hush, you silly creature. It’s all right.”

It was… it was not all right. But I felt better anyway. So I stopped screaming, and I pressed my face into his chest and realized only then that I’d been crying, and when he hugged me I felt like everything would be all right, even if that was probably a lie, too.

“I’m sorry,” I said into his chest. “I didn’t mean to treat you like nothing, too.”

“Did you?” His hand stroked my hair; it felt nice. He would be a good father if he ever did make babies.

I swallowed hard, hitched, and then took a deep breath so I could talk. “I said what I wanted from you and I didn’t even ask you.”

“Ah. Well, I’m used to that.” He sighed. Then he said, not to me, “Relax. It was just a little tantrum, and it’s over already.”

“I’d hardly call that ‘little,’ ” said Ia, who I hadn’t even realized had come. “And it isn’t a tantrum, strictly. Fahno-enulai, is anyone hurt?”

“No,” said Fahno. I could tell she was trying to be calm; why? Because I had scared her. I felt worse, realizing it, but Eino stroked my back and I felt better. “She was quite careful to avoid doing anything that harmed mortals, I noticed.”

“Ah. Then there’s hope for her yet.”

I pulled my teary face away from Eino and glared at him. “Don’t be mean, Sibling.”

Ia, who stood among the three women looking pale and strange and so out of place, lifted an eyebrow. But then he pushed up his glasses and glanced at Fahno. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’d like to take my sibling away for a talk. I’ll return her by nightfall. Hopefully you and your fellow enulai will have worked out your… jurisdictional issues by then.”

Fahno grimaced. “I appreciate your delicate phrasing, Ia.” She looked at me. “Forgive me, Shill. We shouldn’t have fought in front of you. And…” She hesitated, then faced her grandson. “I hope that you too will forgive me, Eino. I just want to help you. I know you don’t believe that.”

Eino only sighed. I pushed away from Eino and stood up to glare at all of them. “You shouldn’t have hurt Eino in front of me. But…” I bit my lip. “I did it, too. And the thing is, Eino’s really strong. He can fight for himself.” I turned to him. “If you do, I’ll help you.”

Eino was staring at me, half amused and half still sadhurt. “I don’t think I’m ready to declare war on my family and friends, Shill.” His smile faded, and he faced Fahno again. “I know you mean well, Beba. Believe me, this would be easier if you hated me.”

With that, a deeply uncomfortable silence fell. Arolu resumed urging Eino to come with him, and this time Eino obeyed. Fahno shook her head in their wake, in between glaring at both Mikna and Lumyn. Lumyn all but ignored her, gazing longingly after Eino. Mikna, at least, looked abashed—and then she turned a thoughtful gaze on me.

With an annoyed glare round the room, Ia stepped forward and summoned me away with a flick of his eyes.

We appeared in a place that was almost-nothing: a big wide grassy hill, overlooking a big flat stretch of more grass and flowers and stuff. There was nothing in the sky but blue, and nothing walking on the grass but bugs and tiny mice and a snake or two, except snakes do not walk. It was quiet and it made me feel quiet inside, so I sat and drew up my knees and wrapped my arms around them and put my head down.