Shades in Shadow Read Online Free PDF

things die all the time,” he complains. That’s the jealousy talking.
    “So do I. I kill most of them. But I’m not killing this one. Look inside.” He does, and almost flinches as he perceives small worms within the creature’s body, tearing at its flesh with sharp teeth. They’ve already carved a bloody hollow for themselves near—but not through—a vital organ. Each of the nautilus’s tremors coincides with a bite.
    Without thinking, he moves a hand to kill the nautilus. She takes his hand to forestall him. “What are you doing?”
    It’s amazing that he has to say this. “Why are you letting it suffer?”
    “Did you look?” At his scowl, she rolls her eyes. “Look deeper.”
    So he does, though there is bitter bile in his mouth as he endures the creature’s suffering. The worms are just trying to survive, fine, but it feels wrong that they leave their prey alive while they do so. It’s wrong for suffering to continue for one minute, let alone endlessly, when death is available—
    And then, belatedly, he sees what he did not before. Within the nautilus are her eggs, almost ripe and ready for laying. Even as she dies, the mother nautilus pumps strength to these children of hers. Strength, and something more.
    “She chose their father for one reason,” Yeine says, “and that is because he had no parasites within him. Most of these, his children, will be immune to the death she suffers. Many will suffer other deaths, just as bad. Life is harsh in the sea.” Yes. He’s seen that. “But a few will survive. If she lasts long enough, she can lay these eggs before they kill her, and the parasites won’t be able to touch them.”
    The creature lacks the mind to feel vindictive pleasure, but he feels plenty of it on her behalf. “Then…”
    Yeine closes her hand and the nautilus vanishes. “I suppose we’ll have to see. She’ll take no harm from my playing—not that that will help much.”
    He watches her, wondering if he is this to her: a struggling, weak thing infected with the devouring parasite of mortal thought. An experiment that might—might—manage to produce a few good outcomes before he fails.
    She throws him a skeptical look. “You think I have nothing better to do than give you object lessons about things you already know?”
    So much for that, then. “Why did you show me the nautilus?”
    “I just thought it was interesting.” She gets to her feet and stretches. She’s naked, too, probably because she was swimming earlier, and reflexively he thinks about sex. That was his job for a long time, after all. He doesn’t have to do that, not anymore, but the habit is hard to break. This annoys him.
    “How’s my other half?” he asks, to be cruel and to distract himself. “You and Nahadoth getting along? His black hole finding your balance beam with no trouble and all that?”
    She chuckles. “You’re very predictable. He doesn’t ask about you at all, you know. Why would he?”
    She takes off, running into the ocean and jumping gleefully into a wave that is cresting near the shore. He leaves while she’s preoccupied so she won’t see how much her words have hurt him.
    *  *  *
    The god without a name doesn’t seek out other gods, but he doesn’t hide from them, either. Their attention is a palpable thing, intermittent. He knows when the oldest ones notice and ignore him. The younger ones watch him, a few coming to visit, and he ignores them in turn until they go away. He spends time with mortals but does not care about them. He leaves the planet sometimes, visits others that lack life altogether, and finds his greatest peace there.
    Through it all, he feels a sense of disquiet. Something is missing. Something is wrong.
    Well. What else is new?
    *  *  *
    “Well, you could use a name,” Yeine says when he finally seeks her out.
    They are in the gods’ realm, in a pocket of it that she has shaped to look like a rain forest. It isn’t. Small entities swim through the