Page 113 of A ?Sky Beyond the Storm

“The Nightbringer siphons souls from the living.”

I know the sins of my son. They are no concern of yours. I have given you enough of my magic to uphold the wall. To aid the ghosts. Go then, and pass them on. You have spent too much time away.

I must break through to him. But how? I speak to Death itself. I am an ant, waving my feelers, attempting to get the attention of the universe.

“There are no ghosts,” I say. “The Nightbringer has taken them all. Only a few remain, and those will not pass, for they sense only a great evil awaiting them on the other side.”

A long silence.

Speak.

I tell him of the rot along the River Dusk and the ghosts’ fear. I tell him of the Nightbringer’s war, how he has used Maro to steal souls. I tell Mauth what I saw when I entered the Nightbringer’s mind.

“How can you not know this?” I say. “How—how can you not see?”

I am not of fire or clay, Banu al-Mauth, he says.The minutiae of your human lives is beneath me. It must be, else I would be mired in it.

A sigh gusts out of him, and his magic weakens.

To my folly. The Nightbringer’s wrath is unending. I did not know. As you see my dimension in one way, I see yours in another.

A universe, I realize, trying to understand the world of the ant.

I believed the jinn needed to be freed and returned to their duty. That is the purpose for which I created them. I did not understand the depth of their pain. Nor did I understand the Nightbringer’s fury. Thus I battle him, and I fear I am losing.

“How can you lose against him?” I ask. “You are Death.”

If you underestimate the spider, Banu al-Mauth, it can bite. And if its bite is poison, it can kill. So it is with the Nightbringer. He knows where to bite. And he is riven with poison.

“Why can you not take the magic from him as you took it from me?” I say.

The magic you use to pass the ghosts and hold the wall is an extension of my own. You borrow it. Nothing more. Your windwalking, however, was a gift. I cannot take it away. When I created the Meherya, I gifted him all of my magic. What I have given I cannot take back. Even Death has rules.

“He wants to release the Sea of Suffering. Destroy all life,” I say. “I could stop him. And I think I can remind the jinn of their duty. Bring them backinto the fold. But I have to be able to leave the Waiting Place. I cannot be trapped there.”

Mauth appears to stare down at the roiling ocean.Tell me your vow.

“To light the way for the weak, the weary, the fallen, and the forgotten in the darkness that follows death.”

Then that is what you must do. The balance must be restored. If this means leaving the Waiting Place, so be it. But hold to your duty, Banu al-Mauth. Memory will make you weak. And emotion will not serve you well.

Even as he says it, numbness steals over me. But this time, something in me bucks wildly against it.

“If Cain hadn’t put memories of Laia and Helene and Keris back inside me,” I say, “I never would have left the Waiting Place. I never would have realized what the Nightbringer is doing. I need my memories. I need my emotion.” I think of Laia and what she’s been trying to tell me for weeks. “I cannot inspire humans to fight if I’m not one myself.”

The Sea slams itself against the promontory, and enormous, repugnant shapes move beneath the water. Teeth flash.More, the Sea growls at me.

I will not interfere, Mauth says.But do not forget your vow, lest you be destroyed by the magic I used to bind you. You are sworn to me until another human—not jinn—is seen fit to replace you. Your duty is not to the living. Your duty is not to yourself. Your duty is to the dead, even to the breaking of the world.

His words are as final as the first fistful of dirt in the grave.

“The jinn have escaped,” I say. “The ghosts are imprisoned. The Nightbringer has leveled entire cities and stolen countless souls. The world is broken, Mauth.”

No, Soul Catcher, Mauth says softly.The power of the Sea of Sufferingcannot be controlled. Not even by the king of the jinn. If he unleashes it, it will not just destroy humanity. The Sea will destroy everything. All life. Even the jinn themselves. I fear, Banu al-Mauth, that the world has yet to break.

«««

The bulk of the Tribal fighting force has hunkered down in the Bhuth badlands north of Nur. Near the center of the camp, a large knot of elders andZaldars,FakirsandFakiras, andKehannishave gathered around a fire half the size of a wagon. I slow as I approach, for an argument rages.

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