The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez

Author:Simon Jimenez [Jimenez, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

I told him that I was not changing my mind.

In a small houseboat at the edge of the Gathering, which belonged to one of Admiral Tajeem’s mistresses, and loaned out against her wishes for the use of the empress and Her party, She and Jun argued. The houseboat bobbed on the water as he paced in frustrated circles, explaining why they could not go off on this side mission—telling Her that these people were not equipped to survive an assault on the Bowl, and that going with them was all but certain death. Outside, Keema leaned against the wall, guarding the door, just as he used to do when he worked the pleasure barges. He made no expression, while inside, Jun shook his hands at Her. “We had a plan—a decent plan. Treat with Araya’s people. The Five Families have resources. They are organized. They have—they have an army. These fishermen…have boats, and nets.”

This was no “side mission,” I told him. I had a responsibility to save the tortoise god who had caught my first fall. If I could save her, this would go a long way to unraveling the hold of the Throne. And this was the truth.

But I did not tell him the deeper truth. I did not tell him that I liked being worshipped by these people.

That I craved it.

“We are heading into a bloodbath,” he said, staring daggers at the corpse-quiet old woman. “We have only just escaped the palace, Your Highness. We need to find a safe place, where we can think wisely about our next course of action.”

I told him, once more, that I was not changing my mind.

“Abyss take it all, Your Highness, this is not wisdom! We cannot embark with the Gathering simply because you miss being loved. They do not love you, they just—”

Keema never heard the rest of the sentence; it was interrupted by a loud crash, like a body slammed into the floor.

Jun’s face was pressed into the carpet, while his hands were pulled back and twisted into a painful helix. His feet were in the air. Blood welling in his head. His right hand twisting up and up, the veins popping red, the pain so great he started to piss himself.

I told him that he forgot himself.

“I—I—I—” he said.

I told him that I am a god.

“I—”

That a god needs no mortal’s permission.

No false emperor.

No human.

She twisted him harder.

And no little whelp coward like him.

“I—I’m s-s-s-sorry!” he cried. “Please, God, I-I’m sorry!”

Good.

Jun dropped to the ground just as Keema slammed open the door. The boy was curled into himself, shaking like a wet dog. The old woman had not moved an inch, Her eyes still shut, no sign on Her of the violence She had just enacted on Her grandchild, Her servant. I told him not to forget his station again. That he was but a stain of his father’s bloodied seed.

That by my grace alone was he deemed worthy of breath.

The boy wept. It was a loud, keening weep that started in the stomach, like some great, ulcerous pain.

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