The Eyes Of A God - The Eyes of a God Part 74
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The Eyes of a God Part 74

The answer intrigued Gilwyn. "So you're always talking with him? Even now?" he asked. "And he just tells you what's around you, just like that?"

'At first it was like that," said White-Eye. She leaned back on her palms so that her dark hair fell back. "But now it's easy. It's not even like talking." She shrugged. "I just know what's around me."

Gilwyn slumped down to one elbow, leaning and studying the girl. "I wish I knew what it was like to talk to my Akari," he sighed. "Minikin told me she would teach me, but she's been too busy. All that I know is that her name is Ruana. But I don't know what she's for or anything."

'If Minikin granted you a spirit, there must be a reason, Gilwyn. You should trust her. When the time is right, she'll teach you about Ruana."

Gilwyn's mind reeled with the possibilities. "I don't think she'll be able to help me walk any better," he mused. "But maybe she'll help me to see in the dark like you, or do magic like Minikin. I saw her summon the Akari once in Koth. They were like pillars of fire! I'd like to do that someday." White-Eye chuckled at the idea. "The Akari are to help us, Gilwyn, not to entertain us."

'I know," said Gilwyn. "But it would be nice to have some power for once, to not feel so helpless." He grimaced as he looked at his clubbed hand, so useless and deformed. His sudden silence caught White-Eye's attention.

'What are you thinking about?" she asked. "Oh, nothing," Gilwyn lied.

'I don't believe you," said White-Eye, grinning. "You're wondering if I know what you look like."

distance. As Emerald came to a halt, White-Eye took her arms from Gilwyn's waist.

'Why are you stopping?" she asked.

Gilwyn carefully slid down from the kreel's back. "I thought you might be tired."

'No," said White-Eye.

'Well, I am," said Gilwyn. He took White-Eye's hand and helped her down. "There's a great view here and..." He stopped himself, shocked by what he'd said, but White-Eye only laughed.

'Don't worry," she told him. "You can't offend me. Faralok shows me all I need to see."

Faralok was White-Eye's Akari guide. She had rarely spoken his name, and it intrigued Gilwyn. He led her away from Emerald toward the edge of the tor. It was dim and cooler in the shadow of the keep, yet she still squinted beneath her black blinder.

'How are your eyes?" he asked. "We can go back now if you like."

'No, I don't want to go back. It's good to be outside." White-Eye took a deep, soulful breath. "I'm glad Minikin let us go. It's been ages since I rode a kreel. My father took me once, a long time ago."

Gilwyn guided her down and together they sat on the sands overlooking the town. He stared at her, entranced by her dark beauty. Lukien had once confided in him during the long ride south that he had loved Queen Cassandra the moment he'd set eyes on her. It had been that way for Gilwyn, too; instant love. He wondered if White-Eye knew he was staring, and if Faralok made her aware of such things. He had so many questions for the girl. In the few days he had spent in Grimhold, he had already learned a great deal. But the Inhumans were full of mysteries.

'It's very pretty here," he said. "I wish we'd brought some food. We could have picnicked."

'Tomorrow, maybe," replied White-Eye. Then she smiled. "If Minikin lets me out again."

'Hmm, I doubt it," said Gilwyn. Convincing the mistress to let them go had been difficult enough.

"You're very close to Minikin, aren't you? She acts like your mother."

Her deduction made Gilwyn flush. "Well, yes," he admitted. "I have wondered that a little." He glanced away. "Do you know what I look like?"

White-Eye nodded. "As much as I can, yes."

'And you don't mind?"

'Gilwyn, I live with people with far worse deformities than yours. How could you ask me such a question? Do you mind that my eyes are so ugly?"

'They're not!" said Gilwyn. "I think they're beautiful."

White-Eye laughed, but he could tell she loved the compliment. "You're a very polite liar," she said.

'I'm not lying, White-Eye," said Gilwyn. He slid a little closer to her. "I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

White-Eye didn't move. She merely stared ahead. Her lips pursed. Gilwyn could tell she was nervous.

A fluttering sensation went through his stomach. Should he kiss her? Would she stop him? He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing her cheek...

... then was startled by a sudden cry.

'White-Eye?"

Gilwyn jerked back and looked around. White-Eye sprang to her feet. Up the tor walked Minikin, accompanied by Trog. Gilwyn felt a stab of terror when he saw her, sure that she'd somehow read his intentions. But when he saw her distressed expression he knew something far worse had happened.

'Minikin?" White-Eye called to her. "What is it?"

Minikin climbed the tor without speaking, facing the girl. She swallowed hard. Gilwyn had never seen her this way, and it frightened him. She was obviously bracing herself. White-Eye began to tremble.

'Minikin?" she asked. "Has something happened?" The tiny woman's voice shook as she answered, "Baron Glass, the Lurian. He's on his way to Grimhold."

White-Eye was deathly still. She whispered, "My father?"

Minikin took the girl's hand. "I'm sorry, child. He's gone."

Gilwyn couldn't move. His grief for White-Eye overwhelmed him. White-Eyed bitterly stripped the blinder from her face and tossed it to the ground. It was strange to see her peculiar eyes crying, but the tears came fast.

t was nearly nightfall when Thorin Glass finally reached Grim hold. He was exhausted from the ride, a nearly nonstop sprint across the desert, and when at last they reached the mountains Glass thought he would faint from hunger and thirst. Benik, his guide, drove their kreel into a wide canyon with high, red peaks rising around them. Shadows grew in the crevices between hills. Benik said nothing as he concentrated, spying the scraggy hills for the right direction and always deciding quickly. Thorin held tight to the reins as they rode. His one good arm ached from the effort.

'Is it near?" he asked hoarsely.

Benik slowed their mount and nodded. "Very near."

A moment later, they turned a corner in the canyon and saw torchlight in the distance. Thorin fought to focus his eyes. They were in the shadow of a gigantic mountain. A wide iron gate opened into it, revealing an interior of orange light. There were figures in the light. They shouted when they noticed the newcomers.

'Thorin, over here!" cried a voice. A waving man stepped out from the gate.

'Lukien!"

'Grimhold," pronounced Benik. He let out a weary sigh, then pointed at the shadowed figures. "They await you."

Thorin dropped eagerly off the kreel's back and hurried toward the keep. It was an awesome sight, tall and forbidding, but the welcome shouts from Lukien settled his fears. There was a giant outside the gate who Thorin thought was Trog at first, but soon realized was some sort of guardian. The midget woman Minikin was at the gate as well, her diminutive figure cloaked in shadows. Lukien hurried out from the gate toward Thorin, meeting him halfway. A smile of huge relief graced his face.

'Thorin, thank the Fate you're all right!" cried Lukien. As they met he embraced the baron. The hug squeezed the strength from Thorin's body.

'Easy, Lukien," he laughed, "I'm ready to drop from that bloody ride!"

Lukien stood back and inspected him. "You look like death."

he said. His smile waned, becoming sad and crooked. "The battle. Very bad?"

Glass nodded. It was hard to think of how he'd abandoned Kadar. He looked toward the dimly lit gate, realizing that Gilwyn hadn't come to greet him. "Where's the boy?" he asked.

Lukien replied, "Comforting Kadar's daughter."

Thorin looked at him. "How'd you know about that?"

'There's a lot to explain to you, Thorin. Minikin was right-some of her people can do amazing things."

'I don't understand," said Thorin, puzzled.

Lukien put an arm around the baron and led him toward the keep. "I'll explain it to you," he said. "But first you need to rest."

'Gods, yes," groaned Thorin. "Food and drink, if you please." He gestured toward Benik behind him.

"For him as well. We're both starved and exhausted."

'We've already prepared something for you. Come."

'Already? But how'd you know-"

'No, no more questions yet," said Lukien. "We'll have a hundred from you soon enough."

He led Thorin into the gate where Minikin was waiting. The little woman's expression was bleak.

Around her stood the strangest people Thorin had ever seen. He stared at them, shocked by their deformities. Minikin stepped forward and took his hand.

'Welcome to Grimhold, Baron Glass," she said. "And thank you for all you've done for us."

Thorin shook his head. "Do not thank me, madam. I left your good kahan to die. Now, if you havefood for a coward, I would appreciate it."

'The food is this way," she said, gesturing down a hall, "but it's for a hero, not a coward."

'If you say so, my lady," replied Thorin. He let the tiny woman guide him into the miraculous keep, deep into its stone halls. Lukien followed close behind but did not say a word. Som-berness infused the air. The Inhumans, as they were called, stood and talked in little huddles, their voices muted. Thorin knew they were worried, and with good reason. He dreaded the news he had to deliver, even though it seemed they already knew it. Soon they reached a large chamber off the hallway. The doors were open, revealing an interior well lit by candles and a wooden table filled with food and drink. The sight of it buoyed Thorin. He sat down without invitation, tore a chunk from a loaf of bread and poured a tall mug of ale as he chewed. Lukien took a chair across from him while Minikin closed the door, obviously shutting out unwanted ears.

'Well?" Thorin asked between bites. "Tell me what you know."

Lukien did the talking. He told Thorin about Insight, an amazing girl who could see the future, and how she had told them of Kadar's death. Thorin listened as he ate, skeptically enthralled. But he was distressed to learn that Insight hadn't told them everything; they still didn't know what had happened to the rest of Kadar's men.

'Dead," said Thorin as he lowered his mug. "I'm sure of it."

The news struck Minikin hard. "All of them?" She seemed unable to believe it. "How could your king be so ruthless?"

'He's not our king," said Lukien darkly. "He's not the Akeela we served, not anymore."

'Speak for yourself, Lukien," said Thorin. "I could have told you the moment I met Akeela what a demented little snake he was."

'You're wrong, Thorin," argued Lukien. "You never really knew him."

Thorin was incredulous. "How could you defend him? I just told you-he massacred those warriors!

Probably the folk in the city, too!"

'He wouldn't," said Lukien. "Not the Akeela I knew."

'Oh, Great Fate..."

Minikin held up her hands. "It doesn't matter. His army is coming now and we must prepare ourselves."

Thorin looked at Minikin. "No offense, my lady, but I've seen what you have to work with here.

They're all cripples and blind men."

Lukien gave a short laugh. "Believe me, Thorin, all isn't what it seems," he said, then proceeded to tell the baron about the real Grimhold, the town beyond the fortress, and how it was filled with legions of ablebodied men. "I've been training them and 'I should have been out there fighting with the rest of them."

A sudden rage boiled up in Glass. "Damn it all, look at me! I'm no better then these cripples we're protecting!" He suddenly wanted to fling the mug against the wall. "If I could have ridden after Trager..."

'He would have killed you," said Lukien.

Thorin looked up angrily. Lukien was grinning. His companion's expression defused the baron's anger.

"Probably," laughed Glass. "But it would have been a better death than to stay here and let him slaughter us."

'He won't slaughter us, Thorin. We can beat him."

'You're so sure?" Thorin asked. "Are these people so exceptional?"

'They're willing to fight, Thorin, and die if necessary."

'Ah, well, it's good that they're willing to die," said Thorin, "because Akeela is more than willing to kill them."

Lukien sat back, unamused. "It's their home," he said. "They want to defend it."

'And I admire that, truly," said Thorin. "But many will die, Lukien, you know that."

Nodding, Lukien replied, "I know. But maybe we can win. Doesn't that count for something?"

'It counts for everything. I taught you a long time ago that there's no honor in defeat. But even if we win, how many of these people will die?" Thorin leaned back, contemplating the horror of it. "Akeela's not a good man, not anymore. There's not a shred of decency in him. And he won't stop till he has you,Lukien. I just hope these people are prepared for that."

The Bronze Knight didn't answer. He fiddled with the pitcher of ale, obviously distracted.

'Lukien?" probed Thorin. "Are you listening to me?"

'Uh-huh."

Thorin leaned forward. "What are you thinking about?"