“He is a monster,” said the woman. Said the godling, I realized, even as I turned and looked up—and up—to take in all of her mortal shape. She was like seven feet tall! And wider than me and Ia put together! Her fists were great big, and her bones were great big, and her headkerchief was great big; everything was great big!
I inhaled, grinning, and stood to face her. “I want to get that big.” Her eyebrows lifted a little, I think in amusement.
“A monster even among our kind, like all the elontid,” she continued. “Nahadoth, for all her chaos, is something. Ia alone among us is the abyss: no god can stare into him long without losing themselves, in terror. So he lives here in the mortal realm, among beings who cannot grasp the horror of him. He never comes to our realm, where the facade would not last. He needs no enulai to keep him in check, for who would foul his only home?”
Ia, face so composed that I thought at once it was another kind of lie, finally stood and turned to her. “Zhakkarn,” he said, calmly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
She turned aside to reveal Mikna, walking up behind her. “I asked Lady Zhakkarn to come,” Mikna said. I bristled at once, but she held up a hand. “Please, Lady Shill. We’ve begun on the wrong foot, and for that I apologize. I ask, however, that you hear me out.”
I folded my arms. “I don’t want to. I don’t like you.”
“She didn’t ask you to like her,” Ia snapped. “I don’t like you, but I listen to you, don’t I?”
Because grown-up godlings listened, even if they did not always agree. I sighed very hard but unfolded my arms. I did not try to smile, though, because I was so mad that my bottom lip poked out instead.
“Stop sulking,” Ia said.
I stamped my foot at him. “Stop yelling at me!”
“I didn’t—” Ia’s teeth clamped shut with an audible click, and he looked away.
“You should have spent more time around Sieh, Sibling,” Zhakkarn said to him. Her voice was big, too, though most of it did not show its bigness. You could feel it, though, underneath the softness of her words. Inside her was a great big bloodthirsty roar. “He would have taught you patience.”
“Thank you, Zhakkarn, but I didn’t because I have little interest in children. Or rather, no interest.” He pushed his glasses up and put his hands behind his back.
Mikna grimaced. “I too have little experience with children, I’m afraid. But Shill—I do work with godlings, which is why I asked Lady Zhakkarn to join me in greeting you. She has… rather more experience of mortals than I do of godlings.” An odd, uncomfortable look passed over her face; beside her, Zhakkarn was still and calm as the cloudless sky, though of course we could all hear that huge awful roar. Ia sighed faintly. “I hoped that she might help to bridge the gap between us, if she was willing, and fortunately she is.”
“I told you I didn’t want you,” I said, getting a little mad again. I didn’t like that she sounded all reasonable. I didn’t feel like being polite. “Tell me what you want or go away.”
Nobody said anything, though Mikna raised an eyebrow—and Zhakkarn looked at me. Just that. But all at once I changed my mind about being rude to Mikna.
“What I want,” Mikna said after a moment, “is to show you something. Will you come with us?”
I was more polite this time, because Zhakkarn. “Um, where?”
“To the Proving Ground,” said Zhakkarn.
I frowned. “What’s that? Why?”
Mikna said, “Because, as I realized after you left, you are a girl of proving age—or you would be, if you were human and actually the age that you resemble.” She paused. “You’ve been trying to understand Eino, haven’t you? Eino is Darre. If you want to understand him better, you need to understand his people.”
I blinked. Oh. Ohhhh. “Um.” But she was right. I’d only met a handful of mortals so far, and I could see already that all their little strangenesses—what language they spoke and how they dressed and what they looked like and what they called themselves—were important to them. To Eino. So…“OK.”
With that, Zhakkarn took us somewhere else. I thought at first she would take Ia and me and Mikna, but when we appeared in a big dusty courtyard surrounded by high walls and a circle of wooden railings, Ia was nowhere to be seen. “Ia is male,” Mikna said, when she saw me looking around. “This place isn’t for them.”
“He’s not really a boy,” I said, folding my arms.
“He is as much male as you are female,” said Mikna. Which made me bristle, until… oh. Well, OK. “And there is… history, between him and Lady Zhakkarn, as you probably gathered. It’s probably for the best.”