Shahar went very still, her eyes wide and, finally, frightened. I glanced over at her and smiled again.

“I think you’re just like any other Arameri,” I said softly. “I think you’ll want to kill me rather than let me murder your brother, because that’s the good and decent thing to do. But I’m a god, and you know a knife can’t stop me. It’ll just piss me off. Then I’ll kill him and you.” She twitched, her eyes darting from mine to Deka’s throat and back. I smiled and found my teeth had grown sharp. I never did this deliberately. “So I think you’ll let him die rather than risk yourself. What do you think?”

I almost pitied hey at pitied r as she stood there breathing hard, her face still damp from her earlier tears. Deka’s throat worked beneath my fingers; he had finally realized the danger. Wisely, though, he held still. Some predators are excited by movement.

“Don’t hurt him,” she blurted. “Please. Please, I don’t —”

I hissed at her, and she shut up, going pale. “Don’t beg,” I snapped. “It’s beneath you. Are you Arameri or not?”

She fell silent, hitching once, and then — slowly — I saw the change come over her. The hardening of her eyes and will. She lowered the knife to her side, but I saw her hand tighten on its hilt.

“What will you give me?” she asked. “If I choose?”

I stared at her, incredulous. Then I burst out laughing. “That’s my girl! Bargaining for your brother’s life! Perfect. But you seem to have forgotten, Shahar, that that’s not one of your options. The choice is very simple: your life or his —”

“No,” she said. “That’s not what you’re making me choose. You’re making me choose between being bad and, and being myself. You’re trying to make me bad. That’s not fair!”

I froze, my fingers loosening on Dekarta’s throat. In the Maelstrom’s unknowable name. I could feel it now, the subtle lessening of my power, the greasy nausea at the pit of my belly. Across all the facets of existence that I spanned, I diminished. It was worse now that she had pointed it out, because the very fact that she understood what I had done made the harm greater. Knowledge was power.

“Demonshit,” I muttered, and grimaced ruefully. “You’re right. Forcing a child to choose between death and murder — there’s no way innocence can survive something like that intact.” I thought a moment, then scowled and shook my head. “But innocence never lasts long, especially for Arameri children. Perhaps I’m doing you a favor by making you face the choice early.”

She shook her head, resolute. “You’re not doing me a favor; you’re cheating. Either I let Deka die, or I try to save him and die, too? It’s not fair. I can’t win this game, no matter what I do. You better do something to make up for it.” She did not look at her brother. He was the prize in this game, and she knew it. I would have to revise my opinion of her intelligence. “So … I want you to give me something.”

Deka blurted, “Just let him kill me, Shar; then at least you’ll live —”

“Shut up!” She snapped it before I would have. But she closed her eyes in the process. Couldn’t look at him and keep herself cold. When she looked back at me, her face was hard again. “And you don’t have to kill Deka, if I … if I take that knife and use it on you. Just kill me. That’ll make it fair, too. Him or me, like you said. Either he lives or I do.”

I considered this, wondering if there was some trick in it. I could see nothing untoward, so finally I nodded. “Very well. But you must choose, Shahar. Stand by while I kill him, or attack me, save him, and die yourself. And what would you have of me, as compensation for your innocence?”

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At this she faltered, uncertain.

“A wish,” said Dekarta.

I blinked at him, too surprised to chastise him for talking. “What?”

He swallowed, his throat flexing in my hands. “You grant one wish, anything in your power, for … for whichever one of us survives.” He took a shaky breath. “In compensation for taking our innocence.”

I leaned close to glare into his eyes, and he swallowed again. “If you dare wish that I become your family’s slave again —”

“No, we wouldn’t,” blurted Shahar. “You can still kill me — or … or Deka — if you don’t like the wish. Okay?”

It made sense. “Very well,” I said. “The bargain is made. Now choose, damn you. I don’t feel like being —”