Shades in Shadow by N. K. Jemisin Read Free Book Online

They stand in silence awhile, looking at each other for the second time.
    “You’ve found yourself,” Nahadoth says.
    “Mmm-hmm. Even got a name now.” Two, actually, one of them bestowed upon him by his fellow godlings. He hates it: Beloved . But at least he has the other name. It is precious. With it, everything is easier to endure.
    Nahadoth nods. “I’m glad to see you well.”
    “And I you.” He gazes at the god as hungrily as he gazes at the night sky—not that there’s a real difference. He can never get enough of such terrible beauty. But there are courtesies to be exchanged, commiserations. “So. About Sieh.”
    “He is dead.” The words are careless, and the god’s voice is inflectionless. It is a lie. Nahadoth’s head tilts up, toward the mirror of the starry sky. “I think.”
    “You think ?”
    “There is…something.” The god’s eyes have narrowed, as though he is squinting across an unimaginable distance in an effort to see something he can barely make out. “A suspicion, on the other side of nothingness.”
    Sieh was a horrible father and a wretched friend and a barely competent employee, completely unworthy of being missed or mourned. But. “What do you suspect?”
    That luminous head shakes. “I will not discuss it. The most minute possibilities are affected by observation.” As if to emphasize this, Nahadoth then pins him with a glance. “What are your intentions now?”
    How amusing to see the living embodiment of darkness and chaos change the subject. But this conversation with Nahadoth is interesting enough that Nahadoth’s shadow decides to play along. “Now? I intend to live, as Yeine bade me.”
    As if speaking her name summons her, there is a flicker and Yeine appears, too. For the god whose name is a precious, secret thing, this makes him happier than he will ever let either of them see.
    “About time,” she says. She’s smiling.
    He shrugs. The shrug is another lie. He’s gotten it honestly. “Well, I’m not very good at having parents. You can’t expect me to listen to everything you say.” This makes her laugh, and he feels warm inside.
    “Itempas’s daughter will not last,” Nahadoth says suddenly, as if he can’t help but cast a shadow over any moment of brightness.
    It would be worse to have never met her. “She’ll die when she dies. When that happens, I’ll move on.” He has promised her this. “She might get tired of me before that, anyway.” That will hurt, too, if it happens. But he has to try, even if he knows she’ll hurt him. That’s the whole point.
    Yeine steps closer to Nahadoth. They don’t touch in flesh, but the drifting smoke of him twitches toward her, and she lifts a hand to twirl it ’round one finger. This isn’t really an idle gesture; there’s power in it. Her other fingers begin to move, weaving the smoke she’s spun, and she grins. “I don’t think you’ll be rid of her that easily.”
    Damn meddling. He narrows his eyes. “What are you doing?”
    “She cannot be made immortal,” Nahadoth says, watching Yeine’s fingers form ever-more-complex one-handed cats’ cradles out of his substance. “We learned that long ago, with our other mortal children.”
    “But the skein of her life can be spun a bit longer,” Yeine suggests, lifting her other hand now, doing something he can’t see with her thumbs. “Stretched to its natural limit, so to speak. Do you think she’ll mind?”
    “Perhaps you should ask her.” Of course they will not. Gods.
    “She knows how to end herself, should she feel the need.” This is a boon that only he out of all of them understands fully, having endured life without that escape option. Yeine’s brow furrows in concentration. “It helps that she has so much of Itempas in her. She is steadiness, stability…Ah. There.” She drops her hands, the weave vanishing before he can fathom more than a few strands of it. “This is not just for you, mind.”
    Because Glee is valuable in