I swallowed. “Yes, Lord Dateh. I understand you perfectly.”
“Excellent. I’ll have him placed with you later today, then. I should warn you, though; after this much time in the Empty, he may require… assistance.” I clenched my fists on my knees while he knocked on the door to be let out.
But as he did so, something changed.
It was just a momentary flicker, so fast that I thought I imagined it. For that instant, Dateh’s body looked wholly different. Wrong. I saw his nearer arm, curiously doubled as he rested it on the doorsill. Two arms, not one. Two hands gripping the smooth wood.
I blinked in surprise and suddenly the image was gone. Then the door opened, and so was Dateh.
I slept. I didn’t mean to, but I was exhausted after my effort to use magic. When I opened my still-twinging eyes, the light of sunset was thin and fading on my skin. Someone had been in the room during that time, which meant I’d slept hard; I was usually quick to wake at any untoward noise. My visitors had been busy. I found the furniture put back in place and a tray of food on the table. The candles were gone when I checked, replaced by a single small lantern of a design that I found odd—until I realized it held nothing more than a slow-burning moistened wick. No reservoir of oil that I could use for painting. Other items in the room had been removed or replaced, too, ostensibly because they could have been used for their pigment. The food was a bowl of some sort of porridge, as bland and textureless as they could’ve made it and kept it palatable. And the air smelled of floor cleanser. I felt a moment’s grief for my drawing, poor as it had been.
I ate and then went to the window, wondering if I would ever escape from this place. I guessed that I had been imprisoned for five days, maybe six. Soon it would be Gebre, the spring equinox. All over the world, White Halls would deck themselves in festive ribbons and encanda, lanterns given a special fuel to make their flame burn white instead of red or gold. The Halls would throw open their doors to all comers, celebrating the approach of summer’s long days—and even now, with so many doubting their faith, those Halls would be full. Yet at the same time, in every city, there would be ceremonies dedicated to the Nightlord, too, and to the Lady. That was something new and still strange to me.
An hour passed before the door of my cell opened again. Three men entered, carrying something heavy—two somethings, I realized, as they grunted and jostled the table and chairs out of the way. The first object they put down squeaked faintly, and I realized it was another cot, like the one I slept on.
The second object they put down was Shiny, dumped on the cot. He groaned once and then lay still.
“A present from the Nypri,” said one of the men, and another laughed. They left, and I hurried to Shiny’s side.
His flesh was as cold as a corpse’s. I had never felt him that cold; he never stayed dead long enough to completely lose body temperature. Yet when I fumbled for his pulse, it was racing. His breath came in harsh, quick pants. They had cleaned him up; he was wearing the sleeveless white smock and pants of a new initiate. But what had they bathed him in, ice water?
“Shiny?” All thoughts of his real name fled my mind as I wrestled him onto his back, then tugged a blanket over him. I touched his face and he jerked away, making a quick animal sound. “It’s Oree. Oree.”
“Oree.” His voice was hoarse, as mine had been, perhaps for the same reason. But he settled after that, no longer moving away from my touch.
He was mortal, Dateh had said, but I knew the truth. Beneath the mortal veneer, he was the god of light, and he had spent five days trapped in a lightless hell. Hurrying across the room, I found the lantern, which thankfully I had not yet blown out. Would such a tiny light help him? I brought it closer, putting it on the shelf above Shiny’s bed. His eyes were shut tight, and all his muscles quivered like wires ready to snap. He was only a little warmer.
Seeing no better option, I slipped under the covers with him and tried to warm him with my body. This was not easy, as the cot was narrow and Shiny took up all but a few inches of it. Finally I had to climb on top of him, resting my head on his chest. I wasn’t fond of the overly intimate position, but there was nothing else to be done.
I was completely caught by surprise when Shiny suddenly wrapped himself around me and turned us over, holding me solidly in place with an arm around the waist, a hand cupping my head against his shoulder, and his leg thrown over mine. I was not quite pinned but I couldn’t move much, either. Not that I tried; I was too stunned for that, wondering what had prompted this sudden gesture of affection. If that it was.
He seemed reassured by the fact that I didn’t fight him. The quivering tension gradually drained out of his body, his breath against my ear slowing to something more normal. After a while, we both grew warm, and despite spending the whole day asleep, I could not quite help it; I slept again.
When I awoke, I guessed that it was late. Near midnight, give or take a few hours. I was still sleepy but had a growing need to urinate, which was a problem because I was still neatly tucked into the complicated tangle of Shiny’s body. His long, slow breaths told me he was asleep, and deeply, which he probably needed after his ordeal.
Working carefully and slowly, I extricated myself from his grip and then eased my way to a sitting position, from which I managed to clamber over him to reach the floor at last. By this point, the need had grown urgent, so I stood to hurry.
A hand caught my wrist, and I yelped.
“Where are you going?” Shiny rasped.
Taking a deep breath to slow my heart, I said, “The bathroom,” and waited for him to let me go.
He didn’t move. I shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Finally I said, “If you don’t let go, the floor is going to be very wet in a minute.”
“I’m trying,” he said, very softly. I had no idea what that meant. Then I realized his hand on my wrist was loosening and tightening and loosening again, as if he could not quite will it to open.
Confused, I reached out to touch his face. His brow was furrowed. He drew in another deep breath through gritted teeth, then jerkily, deliberately, released my wrist.
I puzzled over this for a moment, but nature warned me not to dawdle. I felt his eyes on me for the whole hurried walk across the room.
It was better when I came out; the room held less tension. When I went over to him, I reached for his face and found his bowed shoulders, head hanging between them, heaving like he’d just run a long and exhausting race.
I sat down beside him. “Want to tell me what that was about?”
“No.”
I sighed. “I think I deserve an explanation, if only so I can plan my bathroom breaks accordingly.”
Predictably, he said nothing.
Whatever lingering reverence I’d felt for him vanished. I was tired. For months I had endured his moods and his silence, his temper, his insults. Because of him, I had lost my life in Shadow. In my churlish moments, I could even blame him for my captivity. Dateh had found me because I’d killed the Order-Keepers, which wouldn’t have happened if Shiny hadn’t made them angry.
“Fine,” I said, getting up to return to my own cot.
But when I stepped forward, his hand caught my wrist again, tighter this time. “You will stay,” he said.
I tried to yank my arm free. “Let go of me!”
“Stay,” he snapped. “I command you to stay.”