And somewhere inside me someone was screaming, but it was not me, although I was screaming, too. And neither of us could be heard over the screams of the new-made creature on the ground, whose suffering had only begun—
The arm wrenched its way out of Nahadoth with a sound that reminded me of cooked meat. That same juicy, popping sound when one tears off a joint. Nahadoth, on his hands and knees, shuddered all over as the extra arm flailed blindly and then found purchase on the ground beside him. I could see now that it was pale, but not the moon-white I was used to. This was a far more mundane, human white. This was his daytime self, tearing through the godly veneer that covered it at night, in a grisly parody of birth.
He did not scream, I noticed. Beyond that initial abortive sound, Nahadoth remained silent even though another body ripped its way out of his. Somehow that made it worse, because his pain was so obvious. A scream would have eased my horror, if not his agony.
Beside him, Viraine watched for a moment, then closed his eyes, sighing.
“This could take hours,” said Scimina. “It would go faster if this were true sunlight, of course, but only the Skyfather can command that. This is just a paltry imitation.” She threw Viraine a contemptuous look. “More than enough for my purposes, though, as you can see.”
I kept my jaw clenched tight. Across the circle, through the shaft of light and the haze created by Nahadoth’s steaming godflesh, I could see Kurue. She looked at me once, bitter, and then away. Zhakkarn kept her eyes on Nahadoth. It was a warrior’s way to acknowledge suffering, and thus respect it; she would not look away. Neither would I. But gods, gods.
It was Sieh who caught and held my gaze as he walked forward into the pool of light. It did not harm him; it was not his weakness. He knelt beside Nahadoth and gathered the disintegrating head to his chest, wrapped his arms around the heaving shoulders—all three of them. Through it all Sieh watched me, with a look that others probably interpreted as hatred. I knew otherwise.
Watch, those green eyes, so like mine yet so much older, said. See what we endure. And then set us free.
I will, I said back, with all my soul and Enefa’s, too. I will.
I did not know. No matter what else happened, Itempas loved Naha. I never thought that could turn to hate.
What in the infinite hells makes you think that was hate?
I glanced at Scimina and sighed.
“Are you trying to nauseate me into answering?” I asked. “Add a new mess to the floor? That’s all this farce is going to do.”
She leaned back from me, lifting an eyebrow. “No compassion for your ally?”
“The Nightlord is not my ally,” I snapped. “As everyone in this den of nightmares has repeatedly warned me, he is a monster. But since he’s no different from the rest of you who want me dead, I thought I might at least use his power to help my people.”
Scimina looked skeptical. “And what help did he provide? You made the effort in Menchey the next night.”
“None; dawn came too quickly. But…” I faltered here, remembering my grandmother’s arms and the smell of the humid Darren air that night. I did miss her, and Darr itself, and all the peace I had once known there. Before Sky. Before my mother’s death.
I lowered my eyes and let my very real pain show. Only that would appease Scimina.
“We spoke of my mother,” I said, softer. “And other things, personal things—none of which should have any importance to you.” With this I glared at her. “And even if you roast that creature all night, I will not share those things with you.”
Scimina gazed at me for a long moment, her smile gone, her eyes dissecting my face. Between and beyond us, Nahadoth finally made another sound through his teeth, an animal snarl. There were more hideous tearing sounds. I made myself not care by hating Scimina.
Finally she sighed and stepped away from me. “So be it,” she said. “It was a feeble attempt, Cousin; you must have realized it had almost no chance of succeeding. I’m going to contact Gemd and tell him to resume the attack. They’ll take control of your capital and crush any resistance, though I’ll tell them to hold off on slaughtering your people—more than necessary—for the time being.”
So there it was, laid plain: I would have to do her bidding, or she would unleash the Mencheyev to wipe my people out of existence. I scowled. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill them anyway?”
“None whatsoever. After this foolishness, I’m tempted to do it just for spite. But I’d rather the Darre survive, now that I think about it. I imagine their lives won’t be pleasant. Slavery rarely is—though we’ll call it something else, of course.” She glanced at Nahadoth, amused. “But they will be alive, Cousin, and where there is life, there is hope. Isn’t that worth something to you? Worth a whole world, perhaps?”