I snapped my fingers—or tried to. But as I lifted my hand, there was a terrible, vertiginous moment in which my stomach dropped and the room spun and I felt myself diminish. I shuddered and closed my eyes. Yeine, however, touched my hand, and a moment later I felt better. Not good. Just not awful anymore.
“No, he can’t,” she said, sternly. “Or rather, he can, but if he does so in your presence, he will harm you. Power cannot be given, Shill; isn’t that what you finally understood? People can only take it—and then only what is already theirs by right. Only what they can claim, and hold, with their own hands. Anything more is dangerous to them and others. Anything less, however…” She squeezed my hand, and I looked up to see her smile. “Well, that’s where you come in, my big girl. Nahadoth and Itempas will be so proud.”
I grinned back, dizzyingly happy. I was myself at last, which was all the Three had ever really wanted me to be.
“Every man in Darr has the right to be free,” Eino said. He was on his feet now. A persistent little moon orbited his head; he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. This in no way diminished the grave determination in his face.
“Not at the expense of Darr’s women,” said Mikna. He rounded on her, and she lifted her chin, even though he was a god now and she was just a mortal. I felt that this was very brave of her.
“… No,” he agreed after a moment, to her obvious surprise. “But our strength should not diminish yours. It makes us all powerful, together.” He inclined his head to her.
Mikna seemed to consider this, and then after a moment she nodded back in silent acknowledgement.
“Then tell everybody this,” I said. It seemed so obvious all of a sudden. “You see it now, Eino; help all of the Darre see it, too. Show them who they were, and who they could become!” Then I would grow as they grew, and everything would be better!
“And yet,” Ia said, dampening my glee, because Ia, “Shill has done precisely what she claims should not be done; she has given power beyond imagining to mortals who cannot possibly be ready for it.” He stood on the edge of the room with his arms folded, beyond the clustering of folk around Yeine. For the first time I realized how lonely he seemed, over there by himself.
“Yes.” Yeine grew grave as well. “A plethora of new gods who haven’t a clue of what they are, or why this has happened; there will be trouble from it, I am certain. From many quarters, since our family was not ready for so many new additions, so soon.” She sighed. “And yet it is something I expected, as I said. Just… not now.”
“Mortals becoming gods.” Fahno, at the table with us, rubbed her eyes. “You expected this, Lady? Before you, no one had ever done it. And the confluence of circumstances required to make it happen—”
“Established a precedent,” Yeine said. “Made a path. Opened a door. It is the nature of this universe that once a thing becomes possible, it will happen somewhere, for however brief a time. Life spawns from lifelessness, gods from godlings; why should there not be a bridge in between, from the mortal to the immortal?” She abruptly looked pleased. “A new cycle of life. Fascinating.”
Ia grimaced. Maybe he was not fascinated. “It almost killed her, though.” He was looking at me.
“True.” Yeine watched me as well. “And what that means is that you cannot just empower any mortal, Shill, nor can you do it frequently. Certain conditions and circumstances must obviously be met, first, to facilitate the change; what those are, you will have to discover. So from here on, do try to exercise some discretion, why don’t you?”
I inhaled, delighted, because this was part of me, too. “I’m going to get really good at it.” And as I got better—“Oh, wow. I’ll be strong, one day.”
“One day, yes.” Yeine looked thoughtful. “Mortal life has always been, well, mortal. This universe that Nahadoth and Itempas and I have built is not eternal. There may be others, but when this one ends, mortalkind ends with it. But perhaps it need not end with death.”
We all fell silent at that, in wonder, in fear. I couldn’t imagine such a time ever coming to pass. But I understood this instinctively: because I existed, the end of mortal life—the rebirth of mortal life, into immortality—was possible. And if it was possible…
“I’ll work to make that happen,” I said, and even just this thought made me feel happy and right and full of light again.
Then I thought of something and glanced at Ia, and bit my lip. “But, um, maybe you could help me, Sibling, until then? I mean—you stopped me, when I would’ve spun myself away to nothing.”