The Eyes of God

by John Marco

  Yet Lukien did not fear Minikin. There was too much sincerity in the woman to think her dangerous. She had always kept Gilwyn’s best interests at heart, even when she’d marked him as a baby. And she was a strange and compelling creature. With her white hair and peaked ears, she was unlike anyone Lukien had ever seen before. And if she had a gift for speaking to the dead, it did not mean she was evil. She was simply different. Lukien thought about this as he bounced across the desert. It intrigued him that the little woman could see spirits. If true, there were those he would like to speak with himself.

  He reached down and unhooked a waterskin from the drowa’s harness. Teku chattered for some, so he unplugged its stopper and poured some through the bars of her cage. The monkey’s tiny tongue caught the falling water, happily lapping it up. When she had drunk her fill, Lukien took a swig himself, then thrust out the skin for Gilwyn. Gilwyn turned awkwardly and took the skin in his good hand, taking the time to shoot Emerald the kreel a concerned glance.

  “You all right back there?” he shouted to the lizard. The kreel looked straight at him as it loped along the sands. “Minikin told me that they bond with their owners,” he said. “Once she gets to know me, I’ll be able to ride and control her.” An expression of pride flooded Gilwyn’s face. “I always wanted to ride. When I was younger, I used to dream of being a Royal Charger, like my father. But I could never do it, not with a hand and foot like mine.”

  “Then a kreel suits you well,” said Lukien, happy for the boy. “Just take it easy, all right? They look vicious.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Gilwyn settled in again confidently on the drowa’s back. “I just wish we’d get to Grimhold. The heat’s killing me.”

  Minikin had said it was a full day’s ride to Grimhold, and neither of them had been anxious to face the desert again. Back in Jador, Thorin had been relieved to be spared the misery of the ride. He had wished Lukien good fortune on his mission, though. And his own mission was far more dire. Soon Akeela’s army would come across the desert, maybe in as soon as a week. Though Thorin had told Lukien not to worry about him, his own fears were evident. But he had also seemed eager to help Kadar, and that pleased Lukien. Thorin was a good man and a great tactician. If anyone could help Kadar, it was Baron Glass.

  After traveling for several hours, the Jadori men called for a rest. They were in a wide canyon with shallow sloping walls of red rock and hard earth that made walking easier. As they dismounted, the Jadori broke out food and water, instructing the others to do the same. Lukien helped Gilwyn down from their mount, then got out their own food as the boy quickly freed Teku from her cage. The monkey hurried to her perch on Gilwyn’s shoulder. Lukien tossed them both some dates from their packs, which Teku quickly devoured. As the monkey ate, Gilwyn went to Emerald and petted her scaly snout, cooing to the creature like a kitten as he undid her harness. Lukien was about to stop Gilwyn, but was quickly fascinated by the boy’s easy manner with the lizard. When he unlooped the harness, Emerald did not run. She simply stared at him with her cool eyes, as if communicating some primal thanks.

  “The boy has a way with the kreel,” said an unexpected voice. Lukien turned to see Minikin smiling at him. She had a wedge of bread in her hand. Some distance behind her, the giant Trog was rummaging through their packs and gobbling up the food.

  “Yes,” said Lukien. “It seems so.”

  Minikin drifted closer. “Why don’t you bring some food and sit with me a moment?” She pointed toward an outcropping in the rocks. “We can sit there, in the shade.”

  Lukien hesitated, but the woman’s expression encouraged trust. He found himself some bread and dried meat and followed her toward the rocks, where a great ledge overhung the canyon wall like a swollen lip. There she sat down, smoothing her long coat along her backside. The amulet around her neck looked enormous against her small figure. It glowed in the strong light, but her colorful coat was surprisingly muted. She waved Lukien closer, urging him to sit down next to her. Together they ate their food, enjoying the shade as they watched Gilwyn in the distance.

  “So,” said Lukien, “Gilwyn says you talk to spirits.”

  Minikin laughed. “You are very direct, Sir Lukien. Is that what concerns you about me?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You have been watching me all morning. I’ve felt your eyes on my back. You don’t trust me. Or perhaps you fear me; I can’t tell which, and I prefer not to crawl around your mind to look for the answers.”

  “What? You’re a mind-reader, too?”

  Minikin smiled. “Only when I have to be.”

  Lukien didn’t know whether or not to believe her. “You’re different, that’s for sure,” he said. He chewed on his bread, wondering how not to offend the little woman. “To be honest, I’ve never met anyone like you, or your man Trog. And you have to admit, you are a rather odd pair.”

  “I admit only that we are strange to you,” replied Minikin. “You don’t know the ways of the people here, or their beliefs. You’re a Liirian, and Liirians have many disparate beliefs. Perhaps you believe in the Fate?”

  “I don’t believe in anything, really,” said Lukien.

  “Ah, yet you believe in the power of the amulets. You must.”

  “Yes,” Lukien admitted. “Because I’ve seen their work. But I don’t believe that there’s a great god named Vala.” He regarded her. “Is that what you believe?”

  Minikin was evasive. “The peoples of Jador and Ganjor say there is a god that is supreme over all others. Many people in the world believe this. Even some in Liiria believe in a one great god. In Jador and Ganjor, they call him Vala.”

  “You’re not answering me. I want to know if you believe in Vala.”

  “I believe in this,” said Minikin, lifting her amulet on its chain. “I believe in the Akari, because they speak to me. And it was the Jadori who first called the amulets the Eyes of God, not I.”

  “So they named the amulets after something that they understood?”

  “Precisely,” said Minikin. “Kadar and his people worship Vala, and I have no reason to question them. The Akari believed in Vala, too, at least some of them. But they have never told me what it’s really like on the other side, or if Vala truly exists.”

  The cryptic answer didn’t satisfy Lukien. “Tell me about the Akari. Gilwyn told me that you can see them, even though they’re dead.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you do see spirits?”

  Minikin grinned. “You are asking two questions.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t just want to know if I can see spirits, Sir Lukien. You want to know if I can see spirits around you.”

  Lukien flushed in embarrassment. “Yes, all right. I mean, if you can see the dead. . . .”

  “Let me put you at ease, then. I can see only the spirits that aid my people, the spirits of the Akari. They have chosen to speak through me and make themselves visible. But I can’t see other spirits.”

  The revelation deflated Lukien.

  “You wanted to know if I could see Queen Cassandra,” said Minikin gently. “I’m sorry, I cannot. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t with you, Sir Lukien.”

  Lukien tried to smile. “No, of course. It was a stupid idea anyway.” Eager to change the subject, he said, “So what about these people, the Akari? You told Gilwyn they knew magic. Is that so?”

  “I told Gilwyn that they knew the secrets of summoning,” corrected Minikin, “and that they could commune with the spirits of their ancestors. In a sense, they could do what you would call magical things. Some of them were very powerful.”

  “So what happened to them?”

  Minikin became pensive. “That’s a long story, and not very pleasant.”

  “I’d like to know,” said Lukien. He smiled at her, trying to coax her to speak.

  “Very well,” she sighed. “The Akari died off a long time ago, decades ago, really. They lived beyond the mounta
ins, where Grimhold lies now. Grimhold was their stronghold. It was where they performed their summonings, and it was how they protected themselves from the outside world. But they could not protect themselves from everyone. Kadar’s people—the Jadori—feared the Akari. They feared their might and powers.” The little woman’s face grew grave. “Eventually, Kadar’s people slaughtered the Akari. They killed them all.”

  “The Jadori? But they’re so peaceful.”

  “As I said, it was a long time ago, long before Kadar was even born. Back then the Jadori were different. They were far more aggressive and fearful.” Suddenly Minikin’s face brightened. “Oh, but Kadar changed them. He made them beautiful people.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  Minikin’s eyes seemed to fill with good memories. “I met Kadar years ago, when he was a young man and I was . . . well, far younger than I am now. I came here looking to flee the normal world, because of what I was.”

  “You mean . . . small?” Lukien ventured.

  Minikin smiled. “It wasn’t always easy for me, Sir Lukien. The world beyond Jador is cruel.”

  “How well I know that,” said Lukien with a sigh. “So when you came to Jador you met Kadar?”

  “That’s right. He’d only been ruler of Jador a few years, but he knew the history of his people, the horrible thing they’d done to the Akari. Kadar is a good man, Sir Lukien. You need to believe that.”

  “I do,” said Lukien. In the distance Gilwyn was still working with Emerald. He remembered the kindness Kadar had shown the boy.

  Minikin continued, “Kadar welcomed me, just as he welcomed you when you came with your companions all that time ago. He was determined to change his people, to make them less warlike and fearful of outsiders. He and I quickly became friends. And I loved living in his palace. I was free for the first time in my life, surrounded by people that didn’t judge or ridicule me.”

  “And it didn’t bother you what the Jadori did to the Akari?”

  “No,” said Minikin. “I knew Kadar’s heart was good, and when he finally told me about the Akari I realized why he had become such a good man. But I made him take me to their land in the mountains. That’s where I found Grimhold . . . and the spirits.”

  Fascinated, Lukien said, “You mean the spirits of the Akari spoke to you?”

  “Like a bell! They screamed at me from across the years. I was the first person to encounter them in many decades, and they could never have trusted Kadar or one of his people.” Minikin gave a humble shrug. “So they chose me.”

  “To tell their story?”

  “Yes, I think so. And to live on through me, and the people I brought to them. Not all of the Akari were willing to cross into the next life. Most of them, of course, but the strongest ones wanted to live on.”

  “So you bring people for them to attach themselves to,” said Lukien, suddenly understanding.

  “That’s right. As I told Gilwyn, they are like what you of the north might call angels. The Akari spirits get to live on through my Inhumans, and the Inhumans are helped by them to overcome their problems. If they’re blind then they can see. And if they’re deaf like Trog, they can hear.”

  “Amazing.” Lukien took a deep breath and glanced at Trog. The big giant was oblivious to their conversation, still eating the provisions they had brought, though more slowly now. “What about Gilwyn’s Akari?” he asked suddenly. “What good will that spirit do him?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Minikin confessed. “When I marked the boy it was simply to make sure he’d know of Grimhold. If he’d ever needed us, his Akari would have spoken to him, guiding him to us.” She gave a wide smile. “But Gilwyn doesn’t seem to need help.”

  Lukien glanced down at the amulet around her neck. “You still haven’t told me about the Eyes,” he said. “Did you find them in Grimhold?”

  “I did,” said Minikin, “along with other things, like this coat.”

  “Yes,” said Lukien, “what about your coat? It changes colors.”

  “It helps me to blind the minds of those who see me,” Minikin explained. “Like the amulets, it too is possessed by spirits of the Akari. They control what people see. They work on the minds of men. That’s one of the things the Akari summoners did best.”

  The explanation frightened Lukien. “So there are spirits in the amulets? They’re the ones that make the magic?”

  Minikin nodded. “Some of the Akari were more powerful at the summoning than others. The amulets were made years ago to contain the essences of two great summoners, a brother and sister. It is they that hold the power, and keep people from aging.”

  “But you gave one to Kadar,” Lukien said. “Why?”

  “To forge the bond between us,” said Minikin. “That was why the amulets were forged, to be a great gift, something worthy of the task set upon the wearer. Kadar feared death, like any man. When I told him of the amulets he was more than pleased to wear one and I the other. He agreed to protect Grimhold and I agreed to bring people there for the Akari. And after all, our bargain worked out well for many, many years.”

  “Yet now he won’t wear the amulet,” said Lukien with a frown. “I brought it back for him, but he refuses it.”

  “Kadar has changed, Sir Lukien. He no longer wants to live forever, not without his wife.”

  Lukien shook his head regretfully. “I understand that. I wish there was something I could do, but she’s dead.”

  “You are doing your part,” said Minikin. “You’ve agreed to protect his daughter.”

  “Yes,” nodded Lukien. “Tell me, what’s she like?”

  The enigmatic smile returned to Minikin’s face. “You will see when you meet her.”

  “Why won’t you tell me?” said Lukien. “Why the great secret?”

  Minikin got to her feet and brushed the crumbs from her lap. She said, “Grimhold has many secrets, Sir Lukien. When we get there, you’ll see what I mean.”

  Then she walked off, leaving Lukien alone on the rocks. He watched her go to Trog and wipe a stain from his shirt, like a mother caring for a child. And though she had told him a great deal about herself, she was as inscrutable as ever to Lukien, a great puzzle yet to be solved.

  By dusk they had reached the base of the red mountains. An hour later, they saw Grimhold.

  Lukien reined in the drowa, and his and Gilwyn’s eyes drifted up toward the strange fortress. They were in a flat clearing of hard earth, with the sheer walls of the mountains rising up on all sides. The giant face of Grimhold stared down at them with a menacing leer. At ground level, a huge gate of black iron bars formed the giant’s mouth, a black maw guarded by a single armored sentry, a huge man whose bulk rivaled Trog’s. Above the gate, staggered on both sides, rose high-columned turrets sculpted into the blood-red rock, with glassless windows that gazed down on them like a hundred unblinking eyes. The ancient ramparts at the tops of the turrets had been worn smooth by countless sandstorms so that the fortress seemed invisible, hidden by the shadows and twists of the mountains. Lukien had never seen a more impressive sight. For all its dismal beauty, Lionkeep paled in comparison to the marvel of Grimhold, and Jazana Carr’s Hanging Man seemed a trifle. Grimhold was unimaginably tall, taller than Koth’s highest spire, and the effort to mold so much rock boggled Lukien. He knew when he saw it that Minikin had not lied to him—the Akari had been powerful indeed.

  “Great Fate . . .”

  Lukien dismounted then helped Gilwyn down from the drowa, all the while keeping his gaze on Grimhold. A great wind bellowed through the canyon, yet all else was silent. In the distance the huge sentry shifted his massive sword from hand to hand. Minikin waved to him as she dismounted. The sentry nodded and folded his naked arms across his chest.

  “This is amazing,” said Gilwyn. His awestruck expression made Minikin smile. “It’s even bigger than the library.”

  “There are many of us, Gilwyn,” said Minikin. “Grimhold must be big to shelter us all.”

  The Jadori
guards did not dismount from their kreels, but rather kept their distance. Lukien gave them a puzzled look.

  “They will not come any further,” Minikin explained. “They’ll rest for the night here, then return to Jador in the morning.”

  “Why? Are they afraid?” Lukien asked.

  “Grimhold is a sacred place,” Minikin explained. “And they are still mindful of the spirits within it, and what their people did to them.” The little woman walked toward Gilwyn and took his hand. She said, “This is your home now, Gilwyn, for as long as you wish it to be. You will always have a place here.”

  “Like the library,” said Gilwyn sadly, and Lukien could tell he was thinking again of Figgis. The boy shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. It’s overwhelming.”

  “Grimhold has that effect on people,” said Minikin. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Lukien, pointing toward the lone guardian.

  “That is Greygor,” replied Minikin. “Guardian of the gate.”

  “He’s big, like Trog.”

  “Almost as big; not quite.” Minikin winked at her bodyguard. “Come now, Trog. We’re going.”

  “What about Emerald?” asked Gilwyn. “Can we take her inside with us?”

  “Not yet. We have to make a place for her.” Minikin turned to the Jadori men and said a few words. The men nodded. Minikin turned back to Gilwyn, saying, “They will look after the kreel for the night. In the morning, we will find a place for her in Grimhold.”