Broken Earth 2 - The Obelisk Gate by N. K. Jemisin

Author:N. K. Jemisin [Jemisin, N. K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

INTERLUDE

There is a thing you will not see happening, yet that is going to impact the rest of your life. Imagine it. Imagine me. You know what I am, you think, both with your thinking mind and the animal, instinctive part of you. You see a stone body clothed in flesh, and even though you never really believed I was human, you did think of me as a child. You still think it, though Alabaster has told you the truth—that I haven’t been a child since before your language existed. Perhaps I was never a child. Hearing this and believing it are two different things, however.

You should imagine me as what I truly am among my kind, then: old, and powerful, and greatly feared. A legend. A monster.

You should imagine—

Castrima as an egg. Motes surround this egg, lurking in the stone. Eggs are a rich prize for scavengers, and easy to devour if left unguarded. This one is being devoured, though the people of Castrima are barely aware of the act. (Ykka alone, I think, and even she only suspects.) Such a leisurely repast isn’t a thing most of your kind would notice. We are a very slow people. It will be deadly nevertheless, once the devouring is done.

Yet something has made the scavengers pause, teeth bared but not sinking in. There is another old and powerful one here: the one you call Antimony. She isn’t interested in guarding the egg, but she could, if she chose. She will, if they attempt to poach her Alabaster. The others are aware of this, and wary of her. They shouldn’t be.

I’m the one they should fear.

I destroy three of them on the first day after I leave you. As you stand sharing a mellow with Ykka, I tear apart Ykka’s stone eater, the red-haired creature that she’s been calling Luster and you’ve been calling Ruby Hair. Filthy parasite, lurking only to take and give nothing back! I despise her. We are meant for better. Then I take the two who have been stalking Alabaster, hoping to dart in should Antimony become distracted—this is not because Antimony needs the help, mind, but simply because our race cannot bear that level of stupidity. I cull them for the good of us all.

(They’re not really dead, if that troubles you. We cannot die. In ten thousand years or ten million, they will reconstitute themselves from the component atoms into which I’ve scattered them. A long time in which to contemplate their folly, and do better next time.)

This initial slaughter makes many of the others flee; scavengers are cowards at heart. They don’t go far, though. Of those who remain near, a few attempt parley. Plenty for us all, they say. If even one has the potential… but I catch some of these watching you and not Alabaster.

They confess to me, as I circle them and pretend that I might be merciful. They speak of another old one—one who is known to me from conflicts long ago.

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