“OK,” I said, trying to parse it all.
“And that would be fine; Tehno wasn’t an enulai, but she’d proven herself capable of bearing children with the gift, and that would’ve been enough for her to inherit. But then Tehno went off and got herself killed a few years ago, trying to do business with the Litaria.” He sighed. “Damned criminals.”
“What’s a Litaria?”
“Bad people.” He scowled.
Erem nodded. “Back in the days of the Bright, they were the only people allowed to use magic. Nowadays there’s lots of people and godlings to do magic—but the Lit’s still got the strongest mortal stuff, called scrivening. So they throw their weight around, run a lot of black market and shady magic ventures. Tehno wasn’t demon enough to become an enulai, but she was demon enough that her blood was still poison to gods—if enough of it was taken, and distilled.” His face hardened. “So they lured her to a meeting place for some deal they’d worked out, and then they killed her for her blood. It was a big scandal because enulai are supposed to keep the Lit from running amok, not make deals with them.” He sighed. “Poor Fahno. She wiped out the branch of the Lit that did it, but…” He spread his hands.
I inhaled. “Enulai have to be demons so they can kill gods if they have to… but people try to hurt them for being demons?”
Juem nodded. “Another reason why enulai look after godlings; they help godlings and their godlings help them, usually. But Tehno didn’t have any watching her back.” He sighed heavily. “And if Fahno can’t make or adopt another heir, then her clan will dissolve when she dies. The house and all her assets will go to the Council, and Arolu and Eino will end up on the street with nothing. Fahno’s only chance is to marry Eino off, adopt one of their daughters, and continue the clan that way.”
It was too much mortally stuff. I was getting bored. Only one thing mattered. “Eino could be Fahno’s heir,” I said, carefully. “He’s got lots of magic, and probably the scary blood, too.”
Juem coughed, in a polite sort of way. “He’s a boy, Lady Shill. There are boy enulai, of course, but not here in Darr.”
Ohhhh!! Was that why they’d told Eino he didn’t have the temperament to be an enulai? But boy-temperaments were not different from girl-temperaments, or whatever mortals called Naha-temperaments. And was that why Eino wanted the people in the Raringa to consider letting boys inherit stuff? If they changed the rules, he would be able to stay with his own clan.
We finished the ginger-serry juice, talking about nothing after that. Then I left the kitchen and went to see if Eino was awake yet. His room was empty, so I followed his scent-feel to the bathroom, where there was water still on the floor with some of the sweat from his dance the night before in it. After that I tracked him to another room where there were lots of pretty, elaborate robes hanging on racks. One of them was gone, and the scent of perfume was in the air, with Eino’s smell still strong underneath. I grinned, because Find Eino was a fun game even if it was kind of easy! I followed his smell to another room, where he’d eaten some things—and then finally down a long corridor I saw him! He was standing at the end of it, looking into a big room beyond; he did not see me. His shoulders were very tight and his face had gone hard and blank like a mask again.
I was thinking about running up behind him and surprising him, when suddenly people started yelling in the room beyond!
“—completely improper—” That was Arolu. He sounded mad!
“I think I’m done with propriety, thank you, Arolu-wo.” A strange woman!
“Fahno-enulai will not approve!”
“Let her proceed,” said another strange woman. She sounded bored, and maybe annoyed. “It’s a pitiful gesture, but if she feels compelled to make it, who are we to stand in her way?”
Confused, I came to the doorway beside Eino. He didn’t look at me, though Arolu did. Only for a second, though; he was focused on the two strange women in front of him. I wasn’t sure why at first—until I caught both the women’s scents, and realized they smelled a little like Eino, and Fahno: their own scents were underlain by a peculiar bitterness, like something maybe a little bit dangerous. Did that mean they were demons, too? And probably enulai, too! That meant these must be the women that the servants had told me about: Mikna, who had been chosen to marry Eino, and Lumyn, whom Eino liked better.
One of the women was stocky and darker-skinned, standing near the door with one hand on her hip and a look of contempt on her face. The other woman was already crossing the room to Eino and pressing something into his hands. She was older than him—they both were—and taller than any Darren woman I’d seen, paler brown and narrower in frame. She dressed in more colors than most Darren women, too: usually they stuck to tight-fitting blacks and grays, while boys wore loose color. But above her black leggings she had on a vest that was as green as the forest. It was very pretty, and almost matched her eyes, which were a pale version of the same shade.
“For you,” she said firmly, to Eino. Her voice shook with emotion as she held Eino’s hands. “Gods grant that one day we can use it together.” Just as quickly she pulled away, and turned to face the other woman.
Eino stared back at the woman in green in a way that… I frowned and touched his arm, and he jumped and stared at me as if it had hurt. No one but him and Arolu had even noticed me. He was almost crying! And he felt awful inside, buzzy and angryhurt like there were bees in his soul. He clutched the thing she’d given him, a small cloth-wrapped parcel, to his breast.
I didn’t know what it meant that he was so upset! I didn’t like that these strange women had hurt him. Then Fahno-enulai came into the room from the other doorway, and everything got way, way worse. Um, and maybe some of that was my fault.
“Lumyn-enulai,” she said to the tall woman. I had never seen Fahno look so angry. “If you had a courting-gift to offer for Eino, the traditional thing to do would have been to give it to his father, or me.”
The tall woman let out a harsh laugh. “If I had, he’d never have received it. I’ve no patience for tradition, Fahno-enulai; didn’t you tell me that was my failing, once? And it wasn’t a courting-gift.” She shrugged; it felt like a lie, somehow, and I did not like her for that. “It was simply a trinket I found, and which I thought your grandson might like. Will you begrudge him something so unimportant?”
“Nevertheless. I did not invite you to this house.”
Lumyn inclined her head as if conceding something. “You did, however, inquire via the union about available enulai who might attend the newborn godling, Lady Shill. Did you not? Forgive me, but I thought you were looking for help.”
I frowned, because she was lying again. Whatever she had given Eino had made him sad; it was obviously more than a trinket. I really did not like her at all.
“I summoned Mikna for that purpose,” Fahno said, moving slowly closer to Lumyn. She was old and wide and I could feel how her back hurt, but in that moment she was like a big old bear, lumbery and scary. “You lack the strength to deal with a godling like Shill, and now I see you lack the discipline as well.”
“ ‘Managing gods is as much a matter of compatibility and temperament as sheer strength,’ ” said Lumyn, and Fahno stopped, wincing. Lumyn smiled. “That is from your teachings, is it not? I came because this godling of yours is a free and glorious creature, like all her kind, and she should have choices—rather than having others’ wills foisted upon her.”
Another lie! I clenched my fists. But now the stocky woman—Mikna?—spoke. “Foolishness,” she said. “The godling is but a child, according to Fahno’s description. ‘Free and glorious creatures’ who don’t understand the world cannot be trusted to make such important choices on their own. To attempt it may seem like kindness, but in truth, it is cruel.” She stepped forward, and her whole posture said GO AWAY. “Do you truly want to help, Lumyn? Are you enulai enough, Darre enough, to truly care? Then let the people who know the situation best make the decision—and be mature enough to abide by it.”