by John Marco
‘Ela-daz comes!’ cried a voice from the crowd. A dozen eager heads popped up. They were not poor, precisely, these people beyond the wall, but rather they were plain folk who had made lives for themselves. Like the Jadori, they took their living from the desert and the harsh mountains, which provided everything they needed except security from Prince Aztar. That, unfortunately, had fallen to Lukien to provide. Minikin reached down and touched the offered hands of the townspeople. They were Ganjeese mostly, with brown, rough skin that brushed harshly against her own small fingers. Trog watched carefully each hand she shook.
‘Where are you going, Ela-daz?’ asked an eager boy. He spoke Ganjeese, which Minikin had long ago picked up and now understood perfectly. ‘Have you chosen another? Who is it?’
All of them wanted to know, but Minikin stayed silent. She had indeed selected one of their neighbours, but she was still a good distance from the right house. She lifted her head to check the direction. The term ‘street’ only loosely applied to the avenues of the township, and for a moment she was confused. But only for a moment. Around her neck her own Eye of God burned a little brighter as she communed with Lariniza, the spirit within the amulet. In her timeless, soft voice Lariniza silently answered Minikin’s query, guiding her toward the home of the Seeker they had mutually selected. Minikin turned her pony left and started again down the choked avenue toward a distant collection of shabby homes made from wood and sand. Similar homes had been erected all around the township, but Minikin now saw in her mind a picture of the place, and finding it among its countless brothers wouldn’t be a problem. With Trog slogging behind her, she happily trotted toward the squat homes. The melancholy that had plagued her earlier was gone. She was bringing joyous news, and she knew her appearance would thrill the boy’s parents.
If only she could bring such joy to all the Seekers. That thought was never far from her mind, especially now when she rode among them, for not all the faces she encountered were glad to see her. As she rode past them, some fell in bitter disappointment. There simply were not enough Akari spirits for them all. And she had not asked them to come to Jador. It wasn’t her fault that they were miserable.
Why then, she wondered, did it torture her? Like a petal falling from a flower, her good mood fled in a wind of discontent. Suddenly she wanted to hurry to the house. She retracted her hand and turned away from the people greeting her, focusing on the homes in the distance.
‘Trog, I’m going ahead,’ she called. ‘I’ll be safe, do not worry. I will see you there.’
Trog would have protested if he could, but the giant merely hurried his pace, walking in huge strides to keep up with Minikin’s pony, which nimbly serpentined through the crowded street as it bore its rider toward the waiting houses. As she neared them, Minikin at once noticed the people gathered there. They had come out of their little homes, dropping their chores. She recognised many of them, Seekers from the north who had come to Jador with the misguided hope of finding magic. As they saw the woman they considered their saviour, their faces lit with anticipation. A man from Dreel with terrible, crippling burns met her eyes as she rode forward. With all the mercy she could muster, Minikin smiled and shook her head. The man’s expression dimmed, and he drew back. Only one house would be visited by Minikin today, and only one Seeker inside the house would be chosen. But Minikin knew she would be warmly greeted there, for the boy’s parents had implored her kindly, had waited patiently for months, never begging, never insisting, always offering kind prayers for the Mistress of Grimhold, or, as they called it, Mount Believer. Minikin took a breath to prepare herself. Carefully she avoided the eyes of the other Seekers, who had all gathered in little communities like this one, waiting for their turn. The Ganjeese and other people of the township withdrew as she approached the homes. Suddenly, silence filled the avenue.
Minikin saw the house. It was at the end of a row of homes just like it, small and plain, with walls made of white, sandy cement and a wooden door dried and buckled by the desert heat. Standing on the home’s humble threshold were a man and a woman, both of whom Minikin had studied, sometimes secretly. Their names were Varagin and Leshe. They had come from Marn nearly a year ago with their son Carlan, among the first wave of Seekers to cross the desert. And when they had arrived they had told their sad tale to Gilwyn, who had in turn told it to Minikin, about how Carlan had been blind since birth and how there was no chance for a blind child in Marn, because the economy of their country had collapsed since the fall of neighbouring Liiria. In the months that followed, Minikin had heard the story repeated countless times, but she had never forgotten Varagin and Leshe or their sweet-tempered child. Nor had they forgotten her.
Leshe had a cleaning rag in her hand. Varagin held a spade. Together they watched Minikin approach, their faces frozen in a kind of desperate hope. Mercifully, Minikin ended their anticipation with a smile. The couple from Marn let their mouths drop open. Leshe put a hand to her bosom.
‘Ela-daz,’ shouted Varagin. ‘Have you come for us?’
By this time Trog had caught up with his mistress. He came to walk beside her as she trotted her pony to the house. The other Seekers nodded and offered congratulations to the stunned couple.
‘Carlan’s going to Mount Believer!’ said one of them. Another simply stared at Minikin, awestruck. He had a drooping eye and a clawed, curled hand, and it broke Minikin’s heart to look at him, for she knew how desperately he — and all of them — wanted her visit. They were misguided, surely, but they were brave people, and Minikin regretted her deception, for she had never told them the whole truth of Grimhold. But today she would tell it to Carlan, and that was enough. She reached the house, then dismounted with Trog’s help. Varagin and Leshe bowed, their hands clasped together as in prayer. Embarrassed, Minikin quickly told them to rise.
‘I have come for your son,’ she said.
‘To take him to Mount Believer?’ asked Leshe. ‘Oh, Fate, thank you!’
‘Grimhold,’ corrected Minikin mildly, slightly annoyed at the mention of Fate, a deity she had never believed in. ‘From now on, you and Varagin must call it that. We of Grimhold do not refer to it as Mount Believer, and you must not either while your son is one of us.’ She looked around at the other Seekers who were staring at her. The desperation in their eyes frightened her. She said to them, ‘I am sorry. It is as I have told you. There are no places in Grimhold for you all. But this child I take with me — will you all wish him well?’
‘Oh, yes,’ they all agreed, without a hint of anger. Even their disappointment fled behind their well-wishes for the child. Minikin had decided long ago that she would only take children to Grimhold. She supposed the older Seekers had realised that, though none of them spoke of it openly. The Mistress of Grimhold turned to her hosts. ‘Carlan; he is inside?’
‘Yes,’ said Varagin. ‘We didn’t expect you, Ela-daz. Our home is so meagre. We have nothing to offer you.’
‘We have drink for you,’ Leshe hurried to say. ‘And whatever else we have is yours.’
Their graciousness warmed Minikin. ‘Thank you, no. I really must see the child now. Let’s go inside.’ She turned to her bodyguard and squeezed his enormous hand. ‘Wait here for me. Don’t let anyone follow.’
The gathered Seekers, hearing her words, retreated a little. Without explanation Minikin let herself into the house, Varagin and his wife following close behind. While Varagin shut the wooden door, Trog took up position, blocking the threshold with his great presence. The home was as Minikin had expected — and as Lariniza had showed her during their communions — a pleasant place with mismatched pieces of furniture throughout the main room, mostly chairs of northern design gathered around the hearth. The floor was smooth, hardened sand, a material the Jadori and Ganjeese both used throughout their villages. Along the floor were rugs and pillows for sitting, again mismatched, a collection of Jadori, Dreel, and Ganjeese patterns whose differences could only be discerned by an experienced eye. What little the
family had brought with them from Marn had been arranged on a shelf, mostly mementos from a life left far behind. But Minikin didn’t bother studying these things. Sitting in the centre of the room was a child, playing with a collection of crude wooden blocks carved with Jadori symbols. They were game blocks, but Carlan was far too young to know their significance. Like others his age, his joy came from simply stacking them one atop the other, then knocking them over. And, just like other blind children Minikin had encountered, Carlan knew instinctively when others had entered the room, and that a stranger was with them.
‘Papa?’ he queried. Amazingly, he seemed to look straight at Minikin when he spoke. ‘Who is with you?’
‘A friend,’ answered his father.
‘Carlan, there’s someone here to see you,’ said Leshe. ‘Remember why we came here?’
Carlan nodded. ‘To help me see.’
Leshe smiled. ‘That’s right. Oh, my little son — this woman is here to help you.’
Minikin padded forward, then knelt down before the boy. He studied her, cocking his head to listen. He was five years old now, the perfect age for bonding with an Akari. His mind still regarded magic as something plausible.
‘Carlan, my name is Minikin,’ she said. She did not call herself Ela-daz, for that was not the name the Inhumans called her. ‘I’m here to help you.’
‘To see?’ the boy asked.
‘That’s right.’ Minikin reached beneath her coat and pulled out the Eye of God, letting it spin on its gold chain. While Varagin and Leshe watched wordlessly, their son’s expression was blank. ‘I don’t want you to be afraid, Carlan. You’re not afraid, are you?’
‘No,’ said Carlan quickly, although his twisted expression told Minikin he didn’t quite trust her.
‘Good. I’m not going to hurt you. We’re going to try something. Just a small experiment. Do you want to see, Carlan?’
The boy nodded dubiously. His parents didn’t interrupt, but flicked each other wary glances.
‘Where I come from,’ Minikin went on, ‘little boys and girls are made whole again. If they can’t hear or can’t walk or can’t take care of themselves, they are made safe.’
‘You’re from Mount Believer,’ said Carlan. ‘I know about you. That’s why we came here.’
‘That’s right,’ said Minikin gently. ‘Only we have a different name for Mount Believer. We call it Grimhold. Have you heard the story of Grimhold, Carlan?’
Again the boy nodded. ‘That’s where the monsters go.’
‘No. People think that, but we aren’t monsters. We’re just like you, Carlan. We’re good people, and we’re going to teach you how to see.’
‘With magic?’
Minikin kept the amulet spinning on its chain. ‘I’m holding something in my hand. Do you know what it is?’
‘I’m blind,’ said Carlan peevishly.
‘No, your eyes are blind. Not your mind. Not your heart. You can see anything with your mind if your heart is open, Carlan. Now just relax and sit still for me. I’m going to show you something special.’
Carlan, who had been blind since birth, found the statement confusing. He glanced up at his mother, about to speak, but a silencing hush from Leshe stilled his tongue. With a sigh he did as Minikin asked, sitting and staring in her direction. The lady from Grimhold sensed his calm. As she reached into his mind, she summoned Lariniza from the amulet. The Eye of God burst into colours as the Akari spirit flamed to life, stretching out invisible hands to link the woman and child. Carlan gasped, his eyebrows shooting up in astonishment. In his mind the amulet flared, the first thing in his life he had ever truly seen.
‘Oh!’ His hand shot out to grasp it, almost snatching it from Minikin’s grip. ‘What is it?’
Because he had no words to describe things he’d never seen, Minikin explained, ‘That’s the Eye of God. It’s made of gold. Can you see the gold, Carlan?’
The boy was exuberant. ‘Yes, yes! Mother, I can see it!’
Leshe put her hand to her mouth, biting down to stem tears she couldn’t stop. ‘Great Fate, he can see. .’
Varagin looked awestruck. ‘What about us? Can he see us?’
Minikin asked, ‘Do you want him to see you now?’
‘Yes, yes,’ replied Leshe. ‘Please!’
It wasn’t what Minikin had planned, but she knew Lariniza could handle it easily. Like her brother Amaraz, who inhabited Lukien’s amulet, she was a wondrously powerful Akari. Minikin silently made the request of the spirit, who answered back in a voiceless warmth. Gradually Lariniza slid deeper into Carlan’s mind, carefully blanketing his brain. The boy’s face lit with wonder. Slowly, he turned his face toward his parents.
‘Papa?’
His little hands reached out. Half laughing, Varagin knelt and grasped his son. Leshe hurried down beside him.
‘Carlan, can you see us?’ she asked.
‘I think I can,’ said the boy. ‘You’re in my head.’ This time his hands went for Leshe’s nose, brushing it and feeling the wetness of her tears.
‘This won’t last,’ Minikin warned. ‘It’s just a test.’
But it was a happy test, and Minikin was satisfied. She let the family have its moment, content to know there would be many more in the future. It would take a lot of hard work, but it was work Minikin had dedicated her whole life toward. She knew Carlan would make a fine Inhuman.
‘He has the heart for it,’ she said softly. ‘Yes. He’ll be one of us.’
Slowly she lowered the amulet, replacing it beneath her garments. The return of its warmth against her skin comforted her.
‘You’re gone!’ said Carlan to his parents. He turned his blank eyes to Minikin. ‘Bring them back!’
‘I will, in time,’ said the little woman. Her expression grew grave. ‘Carlan, if you want to see them again — if you want to see anything — it’s going to take a lot of effort. There are things I need to teach you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said the boy. ‘I know.’ He pointed toward his mother and father. ‘They told me.’
‘And I’ll have to take you away. You’ll have to come with me to Grimhold, the place you call Mount Believer. Your mother and father will not be with you. Do you understand?’
It was the part that all children hated. But Varagin and his wife had prepared their boy, and Carlan took the news with equanimity.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I will see them when we are done. I can come back. Right?’
‘When you’ve learned, yes.’ Minikin looked at the boy’s parents. ‘He is very bright. He will learn well, but not quickly. I want you to be prepared for his absence. Where I am taking him, you may not follow.’
‘As long as he’s not hurt,’ said Leshe. ‘And we know he won’t be.’ She smiled gratefully at the little woman. ‘Before you take him, please tell us — what will you do with him? Will you teach him your magic?’
None of the Seekers knew the nature of Grimhold; Minikin had never been willing to explain all her secrets to them, because she wanted to protect her Inhumans and because the Akari were private beings, fierce about their sanctity. Before the world had learned of Grimhold’s existence, keeping the secret had been easy. Now, it challenged Minikin.
‘I cannot tell you all you wish to know,’ she said. She kept her voice low, suspicious of ears at the door. ‘You wonder why you cannot come with your son, or why I do not take more like him to Grimhold, I know.’
‘Because there are not enough teachers for so many,’ supposed Varagin. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Something like that.’ Minikin remained on her knees before the boy, admiring his rapt attention to her words. ‘But the teachers — the Akari — are not like you and I. They are not flesh and bone. And each Inhuman must have his own teacher. When Carlan is taken to Grimhold, an Akari teacher will be given to him.’
Leshe and her husband looked confused. ‘Not flesh and bone?’ said Leshe. ‘They are spirits, then? Like the Great Fate?’
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‘They are the dead of a once great race. Because of them, the people of Grimhold are healed.’ Minikin rose but was still not face to face with the adults. ‘You came here because you believe there is magic in Grimhold, and indeed there is magic of a kind. I tell you this because I know it will not shock you.’
Varagin took a breath. ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Not shocked. Surprised.’
‘And worried,’ added his wife. She looked down at her son, and for the first time doubt flashed through her eyes.
‘You have my promise that no harm will come to Carlan. The Akari that has been chosen for him is kind, and eager to help him to see. But you must be sure.’ Minikin looked at them hard. ‘If you do not wish the boy to go with him, say so now. I will not bring him back or answer any pleas to see him, not until he is ready.’
‘How long will that be?’ asked Leshe.
‘As long as it takes,’ said Minikin. She would give no firmer answer. For a long moment Varagin and Leshe stared at their son, contemplating their heavy decision. There really was no turning back. Going home to Marn was impossible; they’d be killed crossing the desert. And even if they reached Marn, there was nothing there for a blind boy except to grow up to be a blind man. Minikin didn’t have to read their minds to know the images blowing through them, pictures of Carlan grown, bumbling through dirty streets begging for coins.
‘I want him to go,’ said Leshe. ‘I want him to be able to see and to grow up normal. Then, when we’re gone he’ll be able to live on his own.’
‘He will be one of my Inhumans,’ said Minikin. ‘He will not be normal.’
‘But he will be safe and he will be well.’ Leshe lifted her head and straightened her back. ‘That is what we wish.’