The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.)

by John Marco

  ‘I have so many questions,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Questions for Ruana, I think.’

  ‘You are ready, then?’

  Gilwyn nodded. ‘I’ve waited long enough. I want to meet Ruana.’

  Together they sat on the rock. Minikin shifted to face him. Opening her coat, she fully revealed the Eye of God dangling at her chest. Instantly the amulet seized Gilwyn’s gaze. Alive with colour and pulsating breath, it calmed Gilwyn immediately. As she spoke, Minikin’s voice was soft and melodious.

  ‘In this amulet is Lariniza, the Akari that keeps me young and vital. She is powerful, almost as powerful as her brother the great Amaraz.’

  Gilwyn nodded, already knowing this.

  ‘You are about to leave this world and enter another, Gilwyn, and you’ll need Lariniza to guide you. She’ll take you beyond the bonds of this mortal realm to the place where Ruana dwells.’

  It made little sense, yet Gilwyn couldn’t speak. He merely stared at the amulet, unafraid.

  ‘Touch the Eye, Gilwyn. Take it in your hand.’

  Slowly, Gilwyn did as Minikin commanded. He reached out and touched the smooth gold and gemstone, cradling it carefully in his fingers. Warmth flooded his hand, seeping quickly into his arm and body. Around him, he felt the world shudder. The light from the ruby dazzled his eyes, expanding in a scarlet sphere. The sensation panicked him, but he was unable to let go of the amulet. Just when he thought he would shout out for help, the red firestorm abated . . .

  And Gilwyn entered a whole new world.

  He was alone, and the mountain was gone. So too were Minikin and Emerald. Instead, a forest surrounded him, green and chirping with life. Ahead of him stood a lake, its surface shimmering with fog. Dew gleamed on the grass and the leaves of the trees. The air felt warm and still. Birdsong tumbled from the tree limbs and the sun glowed opaque behind a canopy of moss. It was early morning, or it seemed to be, and the peace of the new day filled Gilwyn with calm. The lapping of the water on the shore called to him. Bewildered, he looked down at his hands to test their realness and found them translucent and ethereal. But he could stand; he had substance. And he was not afraid. Even in his confusion the strange new world delighted him.

  ‘Where am I?’ he asked. His voice sounded odd to him, as though it echoed before ending. He glanced around, thinking to find Lariniza, but the Akari was nowhere to be found. Had she transported him here? And where was here? It was not Jador, surely, because the land was lush and wet and even the sky looked different. ‘I’m dreaming,’ he told himself. It was like the greatest, most realistic dream he’d ever had. Here in this world he could do anything and he knew it. He took a step and found that his limp had fled. Though his mechanical boot still wrapped his clubfoot, there was no pain from the appendage now. Gilwyn laughed and took another step, staring at his feet as he did so, seeing a normal gait for the first time in his life.

  Up ahead, the lake beckoned. He walked toward it, studying its shining waters and the way the fog moved across its surface. Like a black mirror it stretched out for miles toward a distant shore. As he neared it the trees parted, revealing its sandy shore. And more. Gilwyn paused.

  At the shore a woman waited, leaning against a wooden boat. He could see her profile as she stared across the lake, the water lapping at her naked feet. She wore a dress of white linen, the hem of which floated in the lake around her ankles. Her hair shone gold, her complexion was milky fair. She did not turn to look at Gilwyn, yet she seemed to know he was watching her. Her lips turned up in a sly smile as her eyes moved across the misty lake. Gilwyn paused, amazed by her. Her whole body seemed to shimmer in the feeble light. This was not Lariniza, he was sure. This was Ruana. Somehow, he knew her instantly, and was enchanted. When he said her name, it was like a poem.

  ‘Ruana.’

  The figure at the lakeside at last turned to face him. A pair of dancing eyes embraced him as she smiled. ‘Come ahead,’ she beckoned. ‘You are safe here.’

  As the sand pulled at his feet, Gilwyn walked over to the woman. He could see she was very young, just as Minikin had explained. Ruana had died young, and apparently had never aged, at least not in this netherworld. She was lovely, too, with bright eyes and golden ringlets of hair that stirred in a non-existent breeze. What surprised Gilwyn most, though, were the tips of her ears, which were turned up in an elvish fashion, just as Minikin’s were.

  ‘You are Ruana,’ said Gilwyn. ‘I know you are.’

  ‘How do you know?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Because I feel it.’

  Ruana nodded. ‘Precisely right.’

  She leaned against her little boat as Gilwyn stopped to stand before her.

  ‘Ruana, what is this place?’ asked Gilwyn. ‘Is this a dream?’

  ‘This is the place of the Akari, Gilwyn,’ replied Ruana. ‘This is our land, as it was, as it remains in the world beyond yours. And no, this is no dream.’

  ‘I don’t know how I got here,’ said Gilwyn. ‘I touched Minikin’s amulet, and then I was here. I saw the lake, then I saw you.’ It was so absurd he laughed. ‘It’s so strange!’

  ‘Lariniza brought you here, as Minikin said she would,’ Ruana explained. ‘She brought you here so we could talk, and so you could see me.’ She smiled, and the warmness of it melted Gilwyn. ‘It is time that we met, no?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gilwyn eagerly. ‘I wanted this for so long.’

  ‘As did I. I have known you all your life. I have been with you since you were a baby, Gilwyn.’

  The idea was staggering, though Gilwyn had known it for some time now. ‘Yes, Minikin told me. She marked me as a child in Koth, gave you to me. And you’ve always been watching over me?’

  ‘In a sense.’ Ruana looked out over the lake. Her expression turned sad. ‘I have lived in this place for ages, but time has no meaning here. One moment is like the next or the one before. Still, I was given to you and I waited for you to come to me.’

  Gilwyn noted the stillness of the lake. ‘This is the place of the dead.’ He glanced at Ruana. ‘Am I right?’

  ‘This is a place for the Akari dead,’ Ruana answered. ‘This is my place of death.’ She touched the boat and smiled. ‘This is where I died, Gilwyn, falling out of this boat. I drowned here, and yet I still come because I love this place.’

  ‘Is that how it is when we die?’ Gilwyn asked. ‘Like this?’

  Ruana’s answer was cryptic. ‘For Akari, it is this way. For me it is this way. This is the world as it was when I lived, Gilwyn. Look around – is it not beautiful? This is the land of my people, before time turned it dry and the Jadori killed us all.’

  It was lovely. No longer was Gilwyn in a desert surrounded by mountains and sand. The old Akari world was lush and bursting with life. Gilwyn could tell why Ruana didn’t want to leave it.

  ‘Why have you brought me here like this?’ he asked. ‘Is this how we’ll always communicate?’

  ‘No,’ Ruana chuckled, ‘not at all. Now is your time of knowledge, Gilwyn, the time for you to know me as I have known you, to see the world I came from as I have learned of your world. I brought you here to meet me, to see me as I was, when I was real and alive like you. That is all this is – time for you to learn.’

  Gilwyn went closer to the woman. He touched the boat, then slipped his hand over hers and found it real and warm. The sensation troubled him. ‘I have so many questions, Ruana. About you, about my gift, about all of this.’

  ‘I will help you to understand,’ said Ruana. ‘But first . . .’ She stepped into the boat then held out her hand. ‘Come with me and let me show you my world.’

  ‘You mean on the lake? I don’t know . . .’

  Ruana lifted a thin eyebrow. ‘Come now, Gilwyn – you must trust me.’

  Gilwyn grimaced. ‘You’re right.’

  Forgetting his hesitancy, he took her hand and let her guide him into the boat. There were no oars and no sail, yet as soon as he was seated the strange vessel disembarked, sliding soundlessly
off the beach and into the swirling mists.

  Within moments, the fog had swallowed the shore, and all the trees and birds disappeared. Ruana sat in the front of the boat looking out over the water. Her self-assured presence relaxed Gilwyn. He sat still in the seat behind her, not speaking, watching as the mists bloomed around the boat and the water parted silently beneath its prow. He didn’t know where she was taking him, or if Minikin worried about him back in the world. But he trusted Ruana in a way he’d never trusted anyone before. She was part of him; he could feel her presence in his mind as sure as his own. Suddenly, the million questions that plagued him abated, satisfied by Ruana’s mere presence.

  The windless air carried them for what seemed a long time. At last the mists lifted to reveal a foreign shore. Gilwyn sat up and peered across the lake. In the distance was a city, quiet yet alive with activity, with tall buildings twisting skyward and aqueducts rushing with water. Amazingly, he could see people in the streets, busy with commerce, dressed as Ruana was dressed in fine linens and golden jewellery. He could not hear them and he could not imagine why he could see them so clearly when they were so far away, yet Gilwyn knew he was in the midst of magic and so he did not question it. He counted the spires of the many constructs – one . . . two . . . a hundred . . . a thousand – as if there were no end to them, as if the city and its beautiful people stretched out ceaselessly across the world.

  ‘Kaliatha,’ said Ruana suddenly.

  ‘Kaliatha,’ Gilwyn mimed. ‘The city of the Akari.’

  He knew it without knowing how. As the boat skimmed across the lake, he leaned forward for a better look at Ruana’s dead city.

  ‘This is how it was,’ she explained. ‘How it remains for some of us. So beautiful and eternal.’

  Gilwyn wanted to know what the city looked like now, in his time and world, but he couldn’t ask that of Ruana, for she seemed enamoured with her city as though it were her lover. Yet Ruana read Gilwyn’s thought and flicked her eyes toward him.

  ‘It is a ruin now, Gilwyn. In your world, Kaliatha is overrun with sand and vermin. If you wish, I can show you that.’ Then Ruana paused in thought. ‘No, I will show you something else.’

  The mists that had veiled the city returned, blocking Kaliatha from their view once again. Disappointed, Gilwyn sank back as the little boat continued its aimless journey. He wondered if he had offended the Akari woman. There was no smile on her face or the smallest hint to betray her thoughts. Then, the glamour that parted the mists returned, once again bringing forth the shore. And once again the shore had changed. This time Gilwyn looked off into a vast valley, full of dust and sand and hemmed in by rugged mountains. For the first time since embarking on the boat he heard sounds, like thunder. They were the sounds of battle, and the combatants filled the valley. Men on horses and men on kreels, men in armour and men in the flowing garb of Jadori warriors, clashing with blood-gushing force on the field. Horrified, Gilwyn rose to his feet, staring out into the carnage, almost soaring over it with a bird’s-eye view. Bodies and blood and broken lances littered the valley. Screams and war whoops split the sky. The mountains shook with violence. And all the while Ruana sat back, mildly horrified, her face drawn but reserved, witnessing the death of her people as though it were a play.

  ‘Enough,’ said Gilwyn, turning away. ‘Bring back the mists, Ruana. I don’t want to see any more.’

  The boat didn’t move, but the fog returned to curtain the bloodbath. Gilwyn sat down across from Ruana and stared at her in anger.

  ‘Why did you show me that?’

  ‘Because you wanted to see it,’ replied Ruana. ‘You claimed otherwise but that was a lie. You wanted to see what the Jadori did to the Akari because you could not believe it. But now you believe, I think.’

  Her words rattled Gilwyn. ‘Ruana, if this is how it will be between us . . .’

  ‘I told you, this is your time of knowledge. You must learn about me as I have learned about you. Otherwise I will never be able to aid the gift in you.’

  Suddenly Gilwyn understood. His eyes narrowed on Ruana. ‘You showed me that battle because of what could happen to the Jadori, is that it? If I don’t use my gift they could be slaughtered. Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ruana bluntly. ‘But you will use your gift, because you love the Jadori and the one called White-Eye, and because you cannot bear to see them slaughtered as they slaughtered my people.’

  ‘But can I? Can I really do it?’ Gilwyn sighed miserably, feeling as oppressed and grey as the fog. ‘I’m no leader, Ruana. If you know me at all you already know that about me.’

  ‘Minikin has set a great task at your feet. To say otherwise would be untrue. But she is very wise. She sees the gift in you, and has chosen me to nurture it. And I shall, with your help.’

  ‘Gift,’ scoffed Gilwyn. ‘Why? Because my best friend was a monkey? I’m a librarian, Ruana! I can’t even walk without this damn boot, unless I’m here in this weird world of yours. What makes any of you think I can do this? If you want a hero, you should send Lukien to the valley of kreels.’

  ‘Brooding.’ Ruana shook her head. ‘A bad trait of yours. Do you not believe that I can help you? Have I not shown you miracles today? Yet still you don’t trust me. So now I must show you one more miracle.’

  ‘Gods, no more battlefields, please.’

  ‘Close your eyes, Gilwyn,’ Ruana commanded.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do as I say.’

  So Gilwyn did so, shutting out the sight of her. ‘What now?’

  ‘Now listen to me. You are very powerful, but your powers are just below the surface waiting for you to discover them. You will never discover them unless you believe.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘You are very close to Teku, yes?’

  ‘Of course. You know that.’

  ‘And with the kreel, Emerald. You can read the beast’s thoughts. You don’t even have to think about it. When you’re with Emerald, the two of you are one mind. Now I want you to think about Teku. Where is the creature now, Gilwyn?’

  ‘Back in Jador.’

  ‘No,’ said Ruana sharply. ‘Where is she right now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You do! You are in my realm now, Gilwyn. Here you are all powerful! Tell me where Teku is. Tell me what she sees!’

  Without warning, the image of Teku popped into Gilwyn’s mind. The scales fell away from his eyes and he saw her, and through her eyes he saw, and all the world looming large around her. He gasped, thinking it a trick, but holding his eyes closed he continued the amazing feat. He recognised the garden of the Jadori palace, its fat rose blooms hanging over the trestles. Teku was there. Looking down from her eyes Gilwyn saw her cradling a piece of fruit. When the monkey looked up again he saw Thorin leaning back hazardously on a chair, cutting slices from an apple and popping them absently into his mouth. The baron looked pensive, heavily burdened. He glanced at Teku and spoke to her, and it was as if the old man were speaking to Gilwyn himself.

  ‘It’s Thorin!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’s with Teku in the garden. He always looks after Teku when I’m not around.’

  ‘You see? This is no dream, Gilwyn, no illusion. You are seeing through her eyes, back in your world.’

  The sensation amazed Gilwyn. His mouth hung open as he continued living through Teku, watching the quick movements of her tiny hands, seeming so large now as she fed herself the apple slice. Occasionally she glanced up at Thorin, revealing his grim countenance. There was something troubling his old friend, but Gilwyn was too awed to pay it much attention.

  ‘So this is what it’s like. Will I be able to do this with the kreel, too?’

  ‘In time,’ replied Ruana. ‘And with work. Open your eyes now, Gilwyn.’

  At her command, Gilwyn’s eyes opened with no effort on his part, and he realised that in her world, her word was law. But he didn’t mind. She had given him a stunning gift.

  ‘It will not be so e
asy in your world,’ she told him, ‘but we will work hard together and make your gift powerful.’

  Gilwyn nodded. Still stunned, he didn’t know what to say. He looked at Ruana and smiled. She was so beautiful. He wanted to thank her but didn’t know how.

  ‘Now you will return to your world, Gilwyn. The next time we speak, it will be different.’

  ‘All right,’ Gilwyn agreed. ‘We’ve been gone so long, I should get back to Minikin. But where will you go?’

  ‘I’ll be with you, and I’ll be here. It’s the same, really.’ Ruana leaned forward then and kissed his forehead. ‘Goodbye, Gilwyn.’

  ‘Goodbye, Ruana . . .’

  Gilwyn’s words were swallowed whole by the same red light that had snatched him earlier. Dazzled by the brightness, he squinted and looked away, but when the light quickly died he was just as he had been, seated before Minikin, his hand still clutching the Eye of God. He jerked back as if suddenly awakened. The mistress of Grimhold grinned.

  ‘Welcome back, Gilwyn.’

  Just as she had taken them up the mountain, Emerald took Gilwyn and Minikin back down without complaint. By the time they reached the bottom it was well into mid-morning, and Gilwyn knew his sense of time had been radically shaken. It seemed to him that he had spent hours with Ruana, but Minikin had sworn that the whole experience had unfolded in mere moments. When he had opened his eyes again she had been there, smiling just as she had been when he’d first touched the amulet.

  His mind was full of questions, yet the pure awe of his experience kept him silent all the way down the mountain. Finally, when they came to level ground again and Minikin dismounted for a brief rest, Gilwyn found his voice.

  ‘You look like them,’ he said without thinking. It was as if he suddenly remembered the little woman’s resemblance to Ruana. Minikin, who had been stretching her back and grimacing, paused and looked at him.