The Inheritance Trilogy

by N.K. Jemisin

“If you want me to die—” he began. “Shut up,” I whispered. “Shut up, gods damn you. I hate you.” “If you hate me—” “Shut up!” He fell silent, and I cursed and threw the dagger to the floor between us. The sound of leather on daystone made an echoing crack from the chamber’s walls. I had begun to cry. I raked my hands through my hair. “Just shut up, all right? Gods, you’re so insufferable! You can’t make me choose something like that! I’ll hate you if I damn well please!” “All right.” His voice was soft, soothing. Against my will, I remembered times—rare but precious—when we had sat together in his placid realm, watching time dance. I had always been conscious of the fact that he and I would never be friends. Lovers was out of the question. But father and son? That much we could do. “All right, Sieh,” he said now, so gently. He did not change. “Hate me if you like.” The urge to love him was so powerful that I shook with it. I turned and stormed over to the stair entrance, trotting down the steps. When I looked up, just before my head passed beyond the floor’s threshold, I saw Itempas watching me. He had not picked up the knife. He had, however, changed: his face was wet with tears. I ran. I ran. I ran.

Weeping