{"id":5570,"date":"2026-01-04T01:35:53","date_gmt":"2026-01-04T01:35:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/the-broken-earth-02-the-obelisk-gate-jemisin-n-k\/"},"modified":"2026-01-04T01:35:53","modified_gmt":"2026-01-04T01:35:53","slug":"the-broken-earth-02-the-obelisk-gate-jemisin-n-k","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/the-broken-earth-02-the-obelisk-gate-jemisin-n-k\/","title":{"rendered":"The Broken Earth 02 – The Obelisk Gate – Jemisin, N. K"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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1<\/h1>\n

Nassun, on the rocks<\/h1>\n

H<\/span>MM<\/span>. NO<\/span>. I\u2019M TELLING THIS WRONG<\/span>.<\/p>\n

After all, a person is herself, and others. Relationships chisel the final shape of one\u2019s being. I am me, and you. Damaya was herself and<\/em> the family that rejected her and<\/em> the people of the Fulcrum who chiseled her to a fine point. Syenite was Alabaster and<\/em> Innon and<\/em> the people of poor lost Allia and Meov. Now you are Tirimo and<\/em> the ash-strewn road\u2019s walkers and<\/em> your dead children\u2026 and also the living one who remains. Whom you will get back.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s not a spoiler. You are Essun, after all. You know this already. Don\u2019t you?<\/p>\n

Nassun next, then. Nassun, who is just eight years old when the world ends.<\/p>\n

There is no knowing what went through little Nassun\u2019s mind when she came home from her apprenticeship one afternoon to find her younger brother dead on the den floor, and her father standing over the corpse. We can imagine what she thought, felt, did. We can speculate. But we will not know<\/em>. Perhaps that is for the best.<\/p>\n

Here is what I know for certain: that apprenticeship I mentioned? Nassun was in training to become a lorist.<\/p>\n

The Stillness has an odd relationship with its self-appointed keepers of stonelore. There are records of lorists existing as far back as the long-rumored Eggshell Season. That\u2019s the one in which some sort of gaseous emission caused all children born in the Arctics for several years to have delicate bones that broke with a touch and bent as they grew\u2014if they grew. (Yumenescene archeomests have argued for centuries over whether this could have been caused by strontium or arsenic, and whether it should be counted as a Season at all given that it only affected a few hundred thousand weak, pallid little barbarians on the northern tundra. But that is when<\/em> the peoples of the Arctics gained a reputation for weakness.) About twenty-five thousand years ago, according to the lorists themselves, which most people think is a blatant lie. In truth, lorists are an even older part of life in the Stillness. Twenty-five thousand years ago is simply when their role became distorted into near-uselessness.<\/p>\n

They\u2019re still around, though they\u2019ve forgotten how much they\u2019ve forgotten. Somehow their order, if it can be called an order, survives despite the First through Seventh Universities disavowing their work as apocryphal and probably inaccurate, and despite governments down all the ages undermining their knowledge with propaganda. And despite the Seasons, of course. Once lorists came only from a race called Regwo\u2014Westcoasters who had sallow-reddish skin and naturally black lips, and who worshipped the preservation of history the way people in less-bitter times worshipped gods. They used to chisel stonelore into mountainsides in tablets as high as the sky, so that all would see and know the wisdom needed to survive. Alas: in the Stillness, destroying mountains is as easy as an orogene toddler\u2019s temper tantrum. Destroying a people takes only a bit more effort.<\/p>\n

So lorists are no longer Regwo, but most of them tint their lips black in the Regwo\u2019s memory. Not that they remember why, anymore. Now it\u2019s just how one knows a lorist: by the lips, and by the stack of polymer tablets they carry, and by the shabby clothes they tend to wear, and by the fact that they usually do not have real comm names. They aren\u2019t commless, mind. In theory they could return to their home comms in the event of a Season, although by profession they tend to wander far enough to make returning impractical. In practice, many communities will take them in, even during a Season, because even the most stoic community wants entertainment during the long cold nights. For this reason, most lorists train in the arts\u2014music and comedy and such. They also act as teachers and caretakers of the young in times when no one else can be spared for such duty, and most importantly they serve as a living reminder that others have survived worse through the ages. Every comm needs that.<\/p>\n

The lorist who has come to Tirimo is named Renthree Lorist Stone. (All lorists take the comm name Stone, and the use name Lorist, it being one of the rarer use-castes.) She is mostly unimportant, but there is a reason you must know of her. She was once Renthree Breeder Tenteek, but that was before she fell in love with a lorist who visited Tenteek and seduced the then-young woman away from a boring life as a glass-smith. Her life would have become slightly more interesting if a Season had occurred before she left, for a Breeder\u2019s responsibility in those times is clear\u2014and perhaps that, too, is what spurred her away. Or maybe it was just the usual folly of young love? Hard to say. Renthree\u2019s lorist lover eventually left her on the outskirts of the Equatorial city of Penphen, with a broken heart and a head full of lore, and a wallet full of chipped jades and cabochons and one shoeprint-stained lozenge of mother-of-pearl. Renthree spent the mother-of-pearl to commission her own set of tablets from a knapper, used the jade chips to buy traveling supplies and to stay at an inn for the days it took the knapper to finish, and bought many strong drinks at a tavern with the cabochons. Then, newly outfitted and with wounds patched, she set out on her own. Thus does the profession perpetuate itself.<\/p>\n

When Nassun appears at the way station where she has set up shop, it\u2019s possible that Renthree thinks about her own apprenticeship. (Not the seduction part; obviously Renthree likes older women, emphasis on women. The foolish dreamer part.) The day previous, Renthree passed through Tirimo, shopping at market stalls and smiling cheerfully through her black-daubed lips so as to advertise her presence in the area. She did not see Nassun, on her way home from creche, stop and stare in awe and sudden, irrational hope.<\/p>\n

Nassun has skipped creche today to come and find her, and to bring an offering. This is traditional\u2014the offering, that is, and not teachers\u2019 daughters skipping creche. Two adults from town are already at the way station, sitting on a bench to listen while Renthree talks, and Renthree\u2019s offering cup has already been filled with brightly colored shards faceted with the quartent\u2019s mark. Renthree blinks in surprise at the sight of Nassun: a gangly girl who is more leg than torso, more eyes than face, and very obviously too young to be out of creche so early when it isn\u2019t harvest season.<\/p>\n

Nassun stops on the threshold of the way station, panting to catch her breath, which makes for a very dramatic entrance. The other two visitors turn to stare at her, Jija\u2019s normally quiet firstborn, and only their presence stops Nassun from blurting her intentions right then and there. Her mother has taught her to be very circumspect. (Her mother will hear about her skipping creche. Nassun doesn\u2019t care.) She swallows, however, and goes to Renthree immediately to hold out something: a dark chunk of rock, embedded in which can be seen a small, almost cubical diamond.<\/p>\n

Nassun doesn\u2019t have any money beyond her allowance, you see, and she\u2019d already spent that on books and sweets when word came that a lorist was in town. But no one in Tirimo knows that there\u2019s a potentially excellent diamond mine in the region\u2014no one, that is, except orogenes. And then only if they\u2019re looking. Nassun\u2019s the only one who\u2019s bothered in several thousand years. She knows she should not have found this diamond. Her mother has taught her not to display her orogeny, and not to use it outside of carefully proscribed practice sessions that they undertake in a nearby valley every few weeks. No one carries diamonds for currency because they can\u2019t be sharded for change easily, but they\u2019re still useful in industry, mining, and the like. Nassun knows it has some value, but she has no inkling that the pretty rock she\u2019s just given to Renthree is worth a house or two. She\u2019s only eight.<\/p>\n

And Nassun is so excited, when she sees Renthree\u2019s eyes widen at the sight of the glittering lump poking out of the black hunk of rock, that she stops caring that there are others present and blurts, \u201cI want to be a lorist, too!\u201d<\/p>\n

Nassun has no idea what a lorist really does, of course. She just knows that she wants very very much to leave Tirimo.<\/p>\n

More on this later.<\/p>\n

Renthree would be a fool to refuse the offering, and she doesn\u2019t. But she doesn\u2019t give Nassun an answer right away, partly because she thinks Nassun is cute and that her declaration is no different from any other child\u2019s momentary passion. (She\u2019s right, to a degree; last month Nassun wanted to be a geneer.) Instead she asks Nassun to sit, and then she tells stories to her small audience for the rest of the afternoon, until the sun makes long shadows down the valley slope and through the trees. When the other two visitors get up to head home, they eye Nassun and drop hints until she reluctantly comes with them, because the people of Tirimo will not have it said that they disrespected a lorist by letting some child talk her to death all night.<\/p>\n

In the wake of her visitors, Renthree stokes up the fire and starts making dinner from a bit of pork belly and greens and cornmeal that she bought in Tirimo the day before. While she waits for dinner to cook and eats an apple, she turns Nassun\u2019s rock in her fingers, fascinated. And troubled.<\/p>\n

In the morning she heads into Tirimo. A few discreet inquiries lead her to Nassun\u2019s home. Essun\u2019s gone by this point, off to teach the last class of her career as a creche teacher. Nassun\u2019s gone off to creche, too, though she\u2019s biding her time till she can escape at lunchtime to go find the lorist again. Jija\u2019s in his \u201cworkshop,\u201d as he calls the offset room that passes for the house\u2019s basement, where he works on commissions with his noisy tools during the day. Uche is asleep on a pallet in the same room. He can sleep through anything. The songs of the earth have always been his lullaby.<\/p>\n

Jija comes to the door when Renthree knocks, and for an instant she\u2019s a little taken aback. Jija is a Midlatter mongrel, same as Essun, though his heritage leans more toward the Sanzed; he\u2019s big and brown and muscular and bald-shaven. Intimidating. Yet the welcoming smile on his face is wholly genuine, which makes Renthree feel better about what she\u2019s decided to do. This is a good man. She cannot cheat him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere,\u201d she says, giving him the diamond rock. She can\u2019t possibly take such a valuable gift from a child, not in exchange for a few stories and an apprenticeship that Nassun will probably change her mind about in a few months. Jija frowns in confusion and takes the rock, thanking her profusely after he hears her explanation. He promises to spread the tale of Renthree\u2019s generosity and integrity to everyone he can, which will hopefully give her more opportunities to practice her art before she leaves town.<\/p>\n

Renthree leaves, and that is the end of her part in this tale. It is a significant part, however, which is why I told you of her.<\/p>\n

There was not any one thing that turned Jija against his son, understand. Over the years he simply had noticed things about his wife and his children that stirred suspicion in the depths of his mind. That stirring had grown to a tickle, then an outright irritant by the point at which this tale begins, but denial kept him from worrying at the thought any further. He loved his family, after all, and the truth was simply\u2026 unthinkable. Literally.<\/p>\n

He would have figured it out eventually, one way or another. I repeat: He would have figured it out eventually.<\/em> No one is to blame but him.<\/p>\n

But if you want a simple explanation, and if there can be any one event that became the tipping point, the camel straw, the broken plug on the lava tube\u2026 it was this rock. Because Jija knew stone, you see. He was an excellent knapper. He knew stone, and he knew Tirimo, and he knew that veins of igneous rock from an ancient volcano ran all through the surrounding land. Most did not breach the surface, but it was entirely possible that Nassun could by chance find a diamond sitting out where anyone could pick it up. Unlikely. But possible.<\/p>\n

This understanding floats on the surface of Jija\u2019s mind for the rest of the day after Renthree leaves. The truth is beneath the surface, a leviathan waiting to uncurl, but the waters of his thoughts are placid for now. Denial is powerful.<\/p>\n

But then Uche wakes up. Jija walks him into the den, asking him if he\u2019s hungry; Uche says he isn\u2019t. Then he smiles at Jija, and with the unerring sensitivity of a powerful orogene child, he orients on Jija\u2019s pocket and says, \u201cWhy is shiny there, Daddy?\u201d<\/p>\n

The words, in his lisping toddler-language, are cute. The knowledge that he possesses, because the rock is indeed in Jija\u2019s pocket and there\u2019s no way Uche could have known it was there, dooms him.<\/p>\n

Nassun does not know that it started with the rock. When you see her, do not tell her.<\/p>\n

When Nassun comes home that afternoon, Uche is already dead. Jija is standing over his cooling corpse in the den, breathing hard. It doesn\u2019t take a lot of effort to beat a toddler to death, but he hyperventilated while he did it. When Nassun comes in, there\u2019s still not enough carbon dioxide in Jija\u2019s bloodstream; he\u2019s dizzy, shaky, chilled. Irrational. So when Nassun pulls up sharply in the doorway of the den, staring at the tableau and only slowly understanding what she sees, Jija blurts, \u201cAre you one, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019s a big man. It\u2019s a loud, sharp blurt, and Nassun jumps. Her eyes jerk up to him, rather than staying on Uche\u2019s body, which saves her life. The gray color of her eyes is her mother\u2019s, but the shape of her face is Jija\u2019s. Just the sight of her pulls him a step away from the primal panic into which he has descended.<\/p>\n

She tells the truth, too. That helps, because he wouldn\u2019t have believed anything else. \u201cYes,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

She\u2019s not really afraid in this moment. The sight of her brother\u2019s body, and her mind\u2019s refusal to interpret what she\u2019s seeing, have frozen all cognition within her. She\u2019s not even sure what Jija is asking, since understanding the context of his words would require her to acknowledge that what stains her father\u2019s fists is blood, and that her brother is not merely sleeping on the floor. She can\u2019t. Not right then. But absent any more coherent thought, and as children sometimes do in extreme situations, Nassun\u2026 regresses. What she sees frightens her, even if she does not understand why. And of the two of her parents, it is Jija to whom Nassun has always been closer. She\u2019s his favorite, too: the firstborn, the one he never expected to have, the one with his face and his sense of humor. She likes his favorite foods. He\u2019s had vague hopes of her following in his footsteps as a knapper.<\/p>\n

So when she starts crying, she does not quite know why. And as her thoughts skirl about and her heart screams, she takes a step toward him. His fists tighten, but she cannot see him as a threat. He is her father. She wants comfort. \u201cDaddy,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

Jija flinches. Blinks. Stares, as if he has never seen her before.<\/p>\n

Realizes. He cannot kill her. Not even if she is\u2026 no. She is his little girl.<\/p>\n

She steps forward again, reaching out. He cannot make himself reach back, but he does hold still. She grabs his nearer wrist. He stands straddling Uche\u2019s body; she can\u2019t grab him around the waist the way she wants. She does, however, press her face against his bicep, so comfortingly strong. She does tremble, and he does feel her tears sliding down his skin.<\/p>\n

He stands there, breath gradually slowing, fists gradually uncurling, while she weeps. After a time, he turns to face her fully, and she wraps arms around his waist. Turning to face her requires turning away from what he\u2019s done to Uche. It is an easy movement.<\/p>\n

He murmurs to her, \u201cGet your things. As if you were going to spend a few nights with Grandma.\u201d Jija\u2019s mother married again a few years back and now she lives in Sume, the town in the next valley over, which will soon be destroyed utterly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we going there?\u201d Nassun asks against his belly.<\/p>\n

He touches the back of her head. He\u2019s always done this, because she\u2019s always liked the gesture. When she was a baby, she cooed louder when he cupped her there. This is because the sessapinae are located in that region of the brain and when he touches her there, she can perceive him more completely, as orogenes do. Neither of them has ever known why she likes it so much.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going somewhere you can be better,\u201d he says gently. \u201cSomewhere I heard of, where they can help you.\u201d Make her a little girl again, and not\u2026 He turns away from this thought, too.<\/p>\n

She swallows, then nods and steps back, looking up at him. \u201cIs Mama coming, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

Something moves across Jija\u2019s face, subtle as an earthquake. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Nassun, who was fully prepared to go off into the sunset with some lorist, effectively running away from home to escape her mother, relaxes at last. \u201cOkay, Daddy,\u201d she says, and heads to her room to pack.<\/p>\n

Jija gazes after her for a long, breath-held moment. He turns away from Uche again, gets his own things, and heads outside to hitch up the horse to the wagon. Within an hour they are away, headed south with the end of the world on their heels.<\/p>\n

\"image\"<\/p>\n

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In the days of Jyamaria, which died in the Season of Drowned Desert, it was thought that giving the lastborn to the sea would keep it from coming ashore and taking the rest.<\/p>\n

\u2014From \u201cThe Breeder\u2019s Stand,\u201d lorist tale recorded in Hanl Quartent, Western Coastals near Brokeoff Peninsula. Apocryphal.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Book Preview 1 Nassun, on the rocks HMM. NO. I\u2019M TELLING THIS WRONG. After all, a person is herself, and others. Relationships chisel the final shape of one\u2019s being. I am me, and you. Damaya was herself and the family that rejected her and the people of the Fulcrum who chiseled her to a fine … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5569,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[376],"class_list":["post-5570","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-n-k-jemisin"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5570","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5570"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5570\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5569"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5570"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5570"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5570"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}