The Eyes of God

by John Marco

  “And he’s confiscated Baron Glass’ property,” added Neel. “That’s how he’s funding his library.”

  Lukien couldn’t believe it. He rode on, a bit slower now, wondering what had happened to his king. Cassandra’s illness was a burden, surely, but how could it have affected Akeela so badly? It didn’t make sense.

  “I have to see him,” he said. “I have to talk to him, make sure he’s all right.”

  “He isn’t all right, Captain,” warned Jiri. “Even Warden Graig thinks he’s lost his mind.”

  “Don’t say that,” snapped Lukien. “He’s your king.”

  Driven on by the shocking news, Lukien hurried his mount toward Lionkeep. He entered the courtyard, throwing himself off his horse and not talking to anyone. Jiri and Neel rode into the yard after him, but only Trager followed Lukien into the keep, where they immediately found Warden Graig.

  “Lukien!” Graig cried. “I wasn’t told you were back. When did you get home?”

  “Just now. Where’s Akeela, Graig?”

  “Akeela’s in the throne room, Lukien. But listen—”

  “The throne room?” said Lukien incredulously. “What’s he doing in there?”

  Graig’s eyes darted between Lukien and Trager. Then he took Lukien around the shoulder and led him a little way down the hall.

  “Lukien, listen to me,” he whispered. “Akeela’s not well. Something happened to him in Norvor.”

  “I know. He killed Mor.”

  “That’s right, and he hasn’t been the same since. He’s demented, Lukien. He doesn’t trust anyone, not even me. I just want you to be prepared when you see him.”

  Lukien was crestfallen. “Great Fate,” he sighed. “It’s that bad?”

  “It is. I’ll go and tell him you’ve returned and that you have the amulet. I’m sure he’ll want to see you, but . . .” Graig shrugged. “Just don’t expect the old Akeela, all right?”

  Lukien couldn’t answer. He and Trager followed Graig toward the throne room, which had always been vacant since Akeela’s kingmaking. The hall outside the throne room was filled with civil servants. They avoided Lukien as he milled among them. Graig went to the huge doors of the chamber, opening them and slipping inside. The great portals closed behind him.

  “What’s going on here?” Lukien asked, looking around at the drawn faces of the crowd. He recognized a number of the men, remembering them from meetings they had with Akeela. They were all servants of the chancelleries. “This looks like Mercy Court.”

  “Mercy? We’ll get no mercy here!”

  Lukien turned to see who had spoken. A small, bald man in the purple vest of the treasury looked up at him, but didn’t seem to know who he was.

  “Why do you say that?” Lukien asked. “What’s happening?”

  “Thievery and tyranny, that’s what’s happening,” said the man. “Where have you been hiding for the last month? In a cave?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Before the stranger could reply, the doors of the throne room opened again and a man stepped out. It was Chancellor Sark of the treasury. Sark’s expression was grim. Warden Graig followed after him.

  “Lukien? Come in,” said Graig. “Akeela wants to see you.”

  Lukien found it hard to move. He stared at Sark, wondering what bad news had befallen him, then fixed his confused gaze on Graig.

  “Graig, what’s happening? Why are all these people here?”

  “I’ll explain it later,” said Graig. “Hurry, now.”

  Lukien pushed through the crowd toward the door. Trager made to follow, but Lukien told him to stay behind. Trager agreed reluctantly, and as Lukien crossed the threshold he heard Graig close the doors behind him. The garish throne room spread out before him, all painted murals and iron candelabras. A red carpet ran toward the dais, where the carved throne sat imperiously between two burning braziers.

  “Welcome home,” said the man on the throne.

  It was Akeela, yet it was not. He sat with his hands on the armrests, smiling insanely as his dark gaze bore down on Lukien. The skin of his face was pale and taut, an emaciation imitated by his bony fingers. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a tangle, and his wrinkled shirt hung limply around his slight shoulders. He was alone in the chamber, and the sounds of the men outside echoed off the gilded walls. His smile grew as Lukien approached, but there was no warmth in the expression.

  “Akeela,” Lukien gasped. “What . . . what happened to you?”

  “You are the thousandth person to ask me that question. Frankly, it’s tiresome.” Noticing the bag dangling from Lukien’s belt, Akeela waved him closer. “You found the amulets?”

  “I did.”

  “Let me see them.”

  Lukien hesitated. The man on the throne was hardly Akeela at all. He seemed vastly older, with a face ruined by troubles.

  “Akeela, you look so different,” said Lukien. He took a step toward the dais. “I heard about what happened in Norvor. Are you all right?”

  “The amulets, Lukien. Give them to me.”

  “What’s going on outside? Why are all those chancellery people here?”

  “Paying their debts,” said Akeela.

  “Their debts? You mean paying for your library, don’t you? Jiri and Neel told me about Baron Glass, Akeela. How could you arrest him?”

  A flash of anger crossed Akeela’s glassy eyes. “Barely home a minute and already you’re telling me how to do things. Thank you, Lukien. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Now please—give me the amulets.”

  “How is she?” Lukien asked. “Is she worse?”

  “My wife is fine,” said Akeela. “Or at least she will be once you’ve given me the bloody amulets.”

  “There’s only one, Akeela,” declared Lukien. He took the bag from his belt and dumped the contents into his hand. Then he lifted the amulet by its chain and held it up for Akeela to see. “I’m sorry, but this one was all we could find.”

  Akeela’s expression fractured. “One? That’s all?”

  “Yes. We looked for the other one as long as we could, but we had to get back in time to save Cassandra.” Lukien took yet another step toward the throne. He saw despair in Akeela’s eyes, the depth of which he had never seen before. “But this one will work, Akeela. Figgis was right. I saw Kahan Kadar, and I saw his children. He’s young. Unbelievably young, really.”

  “It will save Cassandra . . .”

  “Yes,” said Lukien. He went to the dais to be with Akeela. “It’s only one, but it will save her. At least until Figgis can find the other amulet.”

  Akeela’s thin hand reached out and took the Eye from Lukien. He let it dangle from its golden chain, watching it pulsate. For a moment, Lukien thought Akeela would weep. The pain on his face was enormous. But it fled as quickly as it had come, replaced by a brooding anger.

  “Thank you, Lukien,” he said. “You’ve probably saved Cassandra’s life. But there’s something you just don’t seem to understand. Cassandra is my wife. She’s not yours. She never will be.”

  “What . . . ?”

  “I know, Lukien. I know what you did.”

  Lukien’s heart froze. He took a step back from the throne. “Akeela . . .”

  “You just couldn’t be satisfied, could you? It’s not enough that every maid in Lionkeep wants to bed you. You had to take the only woman I ever loved.”

  “Akeela, it’s not like that. Cassandra loves you. I know she does!”

  “And you?” thundered Akeela. “What do you think of me, Lukien? Do you love me so much you would rut with my wife behind my back? Is that your love, brother?”

  “No! I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  “Brother,” Akeela sneered. He stalked after Lukien, his eyes wild. “And so you steal from your brother, and break his heart, and ruin the only thing he loves in the world. That’s how street scum treat their brothers, is it?”

  “Akeela, just listen. . . .”

  “Stree
t scum. That’s what you are, Lukien. My father should have left you there to rot.”

  “I’m not!” Lukien flared. For the first time in his life, he wanted to strike Akeela. “I’m just as good as you, Akeela. I’m better than you ever were! And I didn’t take Cassandra to hurt you. I did it because I love her. And she loves me too.”

  “Of course she does,” spat Akeela. “Everyone loves Lukien. Well, no more.” He whirled and sat back down on his throne. Glaring down at Lukien, he said. “I’m the King of Liiria, and I’m making a decree. You’re banished, Lukien. You’re never to set foot in Liiria again. If you do—”

  “Akeela, stop! This is madness!”

  “If you do,” Akeela continued, “you will be killed.”

  “You wouldn’t do that,” said Lukien. “Not to me.”

  “Be assured, Lukien—if you can defile my wife, I can banish you from Liiria.”

  The statement struck Lukien like a hammer. “I’m sorry, Akeela. You’re right—I did this to you. But I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “I don’t want your apology, Lukien,” said Akeela. “All I want is for you to be gone. And I can do that. You see? I’m stronger than you are. I can make you disappear.”

  Lukien nodded. “If that’s what you want, then I will go. But promise me you’ll take care of Cassandra.”

  “Of course I’ll take care of her. She’s my wife. I’ll never let her go.”

  Somehow, Lukien knew it was true. Akeela’s obsession with Cassandra was boundless. Slowly, regretfully, he started toward the doors. As he walked away he heard Akeela’s haunting voice behind him.

  “Good-bye, Bronze Knight.”

  23

  A keela waited until dark before going to see Cassandra. It was almost midnight, and except for the occasional footfalls of sentries, Lionkeep slept. The private wing he shared with his wife was all but abandoned, and Akeela had left strict instructions with Jancis and the other maids not to enter the area or interrupt him in any way. He was told that Cassandra was sound asleep, and that was perfect. He wanted to awaken her with the amulet. But the amulet’s curse dictated certain priorities, and Akeela wanted to observe them flawlessly. It might be years until he found the second Eye of God, years before he could ever look at his beloved again. Tonight, he would savor her.

  He walked alone through the empty hall, lighting his way with a taper in a candleholder. The shades of all the windows had been drawn, by his orders, and the torches along the walls had been extinguished. Only the flicker from the candle guided him. Beneath his cape he held the amulet. He could feel its power glowing warm against his side, but he was not tempted to wear it. If it indeed had magic, he would not waste it on himself. At the end of the hall he saw the bedchamber, now Cassandra’s private sick ward. The door was closed but unlocked, and he turned the handle slowly, careful not to make a sound. As the door slid open he caught a glimpse of the room. Cassandra lay in the bed. Moonlight from the open curtains played on her gaunt face. Akeela stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It clicked softly, but did not awaken her. Careful not to blow out the flame, Akeela floated toward the windows and closed the curtains one by one, shutting out every small moonbeam. The candle flickered in its dish, throwing his shadow against the wall. He went to the bed and looked down at Cassandra. She did not stir. Her chest rose softly with her breathing. She had lost considerable weight and now looked skeletal. But to Akeela, she remained beautiful. He studied her, adoring her dank dark hair and her cracked, sickly lips. Soon she would be whole again. Akeela smiled. He reached out and brushed her cheek.

  “My love,” he whispered, “wake up.”

  Cassandra stirred, but did not awaken.

  “Cassandra, it’s me, Akeela.” He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. “Wake up.”

  This time Cassandra’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on him slowly. “Akeela?” She squinted against the piercing candlelight. “What . . . ?”

  “Don’t be afraid, Cassandra. You’ll be all right now.”

  Cassandra struggled to rise. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, don’t sit up,” said Akeela. “Just listen. You’re going to be all right now. They found the amulet, Cassandra.”

  Cassandra gasped. Not surprisingly, her first word was, “Lukien?”

  “Yes,” said Akeela sourly. “Lukien found it.” With his free hand he reached beneath his cape and drew the amulet out by its golden chain. Cassandra’s eyes widened in awe. The amulet’s jeweled center pulsated, throwing a crimson glow around the room. “It works, Cassandra. Lukien said so. It will save you.”

  “Oh, thank the Fate,” moaned Cassandra. She reached out for it, but Akeela pulled it away.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” Cassandra asked.

  Akeela did not answer her. He had never told her about the curse.

  “There is only one amulet, Cassandra,” he said. “They were not able to find the other.”

  “But it works, yes? It will save me?”

  “It will. But you will be alone with its magic. I won’t be able to join you until I find the other Eye of God. And I will find it, if it takes me forever.”

  “Akeela,” pleaded Cassandra, “let me have it, I beg you.”

  Akeela smiled. “Now you will never die. You will be strong again, young and beautiful forever.”

  Again she reached for the amulet. “Please. . . .”

  “Yes,” said Akeela. “All right. I’ll put it on you. But first. . . .”

  He blew out the candle. The room went dark; he could no longer see her. Cassandra jumped at the blackness.

  “Why’d you do that? I can’t see.”

  “Nor can I, my love. Now keep still.”

  “But the light . . .”

  “Shhh . . .”

  Akeela widened the loop of chain, groping for Cassandra’s head. When he felt the softness of her hair, he closed his eyes and dropped the amulet around her neck. Then he quickly turned away, facing the door. Cassandra said nothing. Akeela shook with excitement.

  “Well?” he asked. “What do you feel?”

  There was an awful silence, then a sudden, sharp breath. Akeela didn’t dare turn around.

  “Cassandra, are you all right?”

  “I . . . I feel heat,” she gasped.

  “What’s happening?”

  Cassandra cried out, but the sound was full of joy. “It’s working! I can feel it, Akeela.”

  Akeela wanted to see her, to throw open all the curtains and let the moonlight flood inside, but he didn’t dare invoke the amulet’s curse. It was working!

  “What else?” he asked. “Tell me, please.”

  “Akeela, I am free.” Cassandra’s voice was a beautiful whisper. “I feel nothing. No pain.”

  “No pain,” Akeela sighed. He could hardly believe the words. “It’s a miracle. . . .”

  Cassandra laughed. “Look at me, Akeela!”

  “A miracle,” said Akeela. He did not turn around.

  “Akeela, bring back the light. Look at me!”

  “No. Stay in bed, Cassandra. Don’t move.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Just don’t,” ordered Akeela. “I have something to tell you.”

  A gigantic feeling of loneliness engulfed him. But Cassandra was his now, completely. There was solace in that. He stared at the wall, avoiding the temptation to look at her.

  “The amulet has saved you, Cassandra, but there’s a price you don’t know yet.”

  “Tell me,” Cassandra demanded.

  “There is a curse. I don’t know how it works or why, but if you’re ever looked on with human eyes, the spell that’s keeping you alive will be broken.” Akeela sighed miserably. “No one must ever see you, Cassandra. Not even me.”

  “What? You mean I’m a prisoner?”

  “Until I find the other amulet, I can’t look at you. No one can.”

  Cassandra bolted up in the bed. “No!” she cried. “This can’t be!”

&
nbsp; “Don’t worry, my love. I’ve already thought about it. We’ll take out all the windows in this wing and brick them up. And I’ll hire blind servants for you, so you won’t be alone. . . .”

  “Are you mad?” Cassandra shrieked. “I can’t live like that!”

  “Oh, but you will. You’re well now, and I won’t risk losing you again.”

  “No! I won’t live like this. If that’s how it will be, I won’t wear this damned amulet!”

  Akeela had to stop himself from turning around. “Don’t you dare take it off. Don’t you dare.”

  “You are mad,” said Cassandra. “Oh, Akeela, please listen to me. . . .”

  “No, Cassandra, I will not listen. I have decided.” Akeela closed his eyes and turned back toward the bed. “You will wear the amulet and wait for me to find its twin. Then we can be together forever.”

  “I don’t want to be with you forever,” said Cassandra. “You’re insane, and I don’t love you.”

  “Yes,” hissed Akeela, “I know. You love Lukien. But you’ll have all eternity to forget about him, Cassandra.”

  Cassandra was silent at the accusation.

  “Nothing to say, my wife? You must think me a great fool. But I know what’s happened between you and him. And I’ve dealt with it. Lukien is gone now. You shan’t be seeing him again.”

  “You killed him?” gasped Cassandra.

  “No, but I will kill him if I must. If you take off that amulet, or if you let yourself be seen, or if anything should happen to break the spell that keeps you, then I will hunt Lukien down and I will kill him.”

  “No . . .”

  “And if he ever returns to Liiria for you, he will be executed.”

  Cassandra began to sob. “Akeela, please . . . listen to yourself!”

  Akeela had listened, and he’d liked what he’d heard. He was powerful now, something he had never been before. Men feared him. Men like Baron Glass. Men like Lukien. With his eyes still closed, he reached out and touched Cassandra’s cheek. He felt her tears and liked them, too.

  “I told you I would never let you go, Cassandra.”

  Then he turned and went to the door. Fishing a key out of his pocket, he opened the door and closed it fast behind him. He had to struggle in the darkness to find the keyhole, but when he did he quickly turned the tumbler, locking away his shrieking wife.