Not bothering to pick them up, I stared in her direction. She may have thought I was astonished. I wasn’t. It was just that I remembered the last time I’d seen her, at Madding’s house. With Madding. It took me a moment to master my feelings.
Finally I said, “I thought godlings weren’t allowed to leave Shadow.”
“I’m the goddess of stealth, Oree Shoth. I do a lot of things that I’m not supposed to.” She paused in surprise. “You can’t see me, can you?”
“No,” I said, and left it at that.
So did she, thankfully. “Wasn’t easy to find you. The Arameri did a good job of covering your tracks. I honestly thought you were dead for a while. Lovely funeral, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I said. I hadn’t attended. “Why are you here?”
She whistled at my tone. “You certainly aren’t happy to see me. What’s wrong?” I heard her push aside some of the tools and pots on my workbench and sit down. “Afraid I’ll out you as the last living demon?”
I had lived without fear for more than a year, so it was slow to awaken in me. I only sighed and knelt to begin collecting the spilled onions. “I suppose it was inevitable you would find out why the Arameri ‘killed’ me.”
“Mmm, yes. Nummy secrets.” I heard her kick her feet idly, like a little girl nibbling a cookie. “I promised Mad, after all, that I’d find out who was killing our siblings.”
At that, I sat back on my heels. I still felt no fear. “I had nothing to do with Role. That was Dateh. The rest, though…” I had no idea, so I shrugged. “It could have been either of us. They started taking my blood not long after they kidnapped me. The only one I’m sure was my fault was Madding.”
“I wouldn’t say it was your fault—” Nemmer began.
“I would.”
An uncomfortable silence fell.
“Are you going to kill me now?” I asked.
There was another pause that told me she’d been considering it. “No.”
“Do you want my blood for yourself, then?”
“Gods, no! What do you take me for?”
“An assassin.”
I felt her stare at me, her consternation churning the air of the small room. “I don’t want your blood,” she said finally. “In fact, I’m planning to do all I can to make sure anyone else who figures out your secret dies before they can act on it. The Arameri were right about anonymity being your surest protection. I intend to make sure even they don’t remember your existence for long.”
“Lord T’vril—”
“Knows his place. I’m sure he could be persuaded to remove certain records from the family archive in exchange for my silence about his carefully hidden stash of demons’ blood. Which isn’t hidden as well as he thinks it is.”
“I see.” My head was beginning to hurt. Not from magic, just pure irritation. There were aspects of life in Shadow that I did not miss. “Why did you come, then?”
She kicked her feet again. “I thought you’d want to know. Kitr runs Madding’s organization now, with Istan.”
I didn’t know the latter name, but I was relieved—more than I’d ever expected to be—to hear that Kitr was alive. I licked my lips. “What about… the others?”
“Lil is fine. The demon couldn’t take her.” With the clarity of intuition, I realized Dateh had become “the demon” for Nemmer. I was something else. “She almost killed him, in fact; he fled from their battle. She’s taken over the Shustocks junkyard—Dump’s old place?—and Ancestors’ Village.” At my look of alarm, she added, “She doesn’t eat anyone who doesn’t want to be eaten. In fact, she’s rather protective of the children; their hunger for love seems to fascinate her. And for some reason, she’s gained a taste for being worshipped lately.”
I couldn’t help laughing at that. “What about—”
“None of the others survived,” she said. My laughter died.
After a moment of silence, Nemmer added, “Your friends from Art Row are all fine, though.”
That was very good, but it hurt me most of all to think about that part of my old life, so I said, “Did you have a chance to check on my mother?”
“No, sorry. Getting out of the city is difficult enough. I could make only one trip.”
I nodded slowly and resumed picking up onions. “Thank you for doing it. Really.”