Free The Kingdom of Gods by N. K. Jemisin Page B

the past eight years.”
    Oh, no. “Eight years ago …”
    “Eight years ago,” she said in that same clipped, edged tone, “you and I and Deka took an oath of friendship. Immediately upon which you unleashed a flare of magic so powerful that it destroyed the Nowhere Stair and much of the underpalace —and then you vanished, leaving Deka and me buried in the rubble with more bones broken than whole.”
    I stared at her, horrified. She narrowed her eyes, searching my face, and a flicker of consternation diluted her anger. “You didn’t know.”
    “No.”
    “How could you not know?”
    I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything after we joined hands, Shahar. But … you and Deka were wise to ask for my friendship; it should have made you safe from me for all time. I don’t understand what happened.”
    She nodded slowly. “They pulled us out of the debris and patched us up, good as new. But I had to tell Mother about you. She was furious that we’d concealed something so important. And the heir’s life had been threatened, which meant someone had to be held accountable.” She folded her arms, holding her shoulders ever-so-slightly stiff. “Deka had fewer injuries than I. Our fullblood relatives started to hint that Deka — only Deka, never me — might have done something to antagonize you. They didn’t come right out and accuse him of plotting to use a godling as a murder weapon, but …”
    I closed my eyes, understanding at last why she had cursed my name. I had stolen her innocence first and then her brother. She would never trust me again.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it was wholly inadequate.
    She shrugged again. “Not your fault. I see now that what happened was an accident.”
    She turned away then, pacing across her room to the doorthat adjoined her suite to the one that had been Dekarta’s. Opening it, she turned back to look at me, expectant.
    I stayed by the window, seeing the signs clearly now. Her face was impassive, cool, but she had not completely mastered herself yet. Fury smoldered in her, banked for now, but slow burning. She was patient. Focused. I would think this a good thing, if I hadn’t seen it before.
    “You don’t blame me,” I said, “though I’ll wager you did, until tonight. But you still blame
someone
. Who?”
    I expected her to dissemble. “My mother,” she said.
    “You said she was pressured into sending Deka away.”
    Shahar shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She said nothing for a moment more, then lowered her eyes. “Deka … I haven’t heard from him since he left. He returns my letters unopened.”
    Even with my senses as muddled as they were, I could feel the raw wound in her soul where a twin brother had been. A wound like that demanded redress.
    She sighed. “Come on.”
    I took a step toward her and stopped, startled as I realized something. Arameri heads and heirs had loathed one another since the Bright’s dawning. Unavoidable, given circumstances: two souls with the strength to rule the world were rarely good at sharing or even cohabitating, for that matter. That was why the family’s heads had been as ruthless about controlling their heirs as they were about controlling the world.
    My eyes flicked to Shahar’s odd, incomplete blood sigil. None of the controlling words were there. She was free to act against her mother, even plot to kill her, if she wanted.
    She saw my look and smiled. “My old friend,” she said. “You were right about me, you know, all those years ago. Some things are my nature. Inescapable.”
    I crossed the room to stand beside her on the threshold. I was surprised to find myself uncertain as I considered her. I should have felt vindicated to hear her plans of vengeance. I should have said, and meant it,
You’ll do worse before you’re done
.
    But I had tasted her childish soul, and there had been something in it that did not fit the cold avenger she seemed to have become. She had loved her brother,