The Eyes Of A God - The Eyes of a God Part 81
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The Eyes of a God Part 81

Tark looked ashen. "Fate above..."

'It was Lukien, Tark," he said. "I tried to stop him, but..."

'Shhh, don't talk," urged the colonel. "You need rest. And when you're better we'll hunt down that king-slayer scum and make him pay."

'Yes," said Trager. "We'll find him, make him suffer..."

As Colonel Tark wrapped a bandage around his wound Trager sat motionless on the floor. Guilt gnawed at him, devouring his thoughts. But Akeela had deserved it. After all he'd done for the king, how could he have turned yet again to Lukien?

'Tark, tell the men what's happened," said Trager. "Tell them I'm in charge now."

'I will, sir." Tark applied pressure to the wound in Trager's side, stemming the blood.

'Tell them Lukien killed Akeela," Trager went on. "Tell them we're going to Grimhold to get the king's body back and to punish that treacherous filth."

'I will. Now hold still."

There was nothing else to say, so Trager closed his eyes and let Tark work. In his mind he saw Lukien defeated, and the amulets of immortality around his own neck. He saw himself returning triumphantly to Koth, to a country without a king and desperate for a leader. If he was clever-if he could lead his men against Grimhold and win-he could have the thing he'd always prized.

The respect of the world.

J_^ukien and the others rode as far and as fast as they could, leaving behind the city and the gruesome shadows of the crucified. They had taken the fleet-footed kreels to the confines of a row of high, sandy dunes, hoping to escape the Lurians with their speed and the aide of Ghost's remarkable magic. The strange albino had worked his miracles on the minds of the Lurians, getting them out of the palace without being seen. Remarkably, Akeela had lived through the ordeal, silently laying in Lukien's arms as if he knew they were escaping and wouldn't make a sound to betray them. Hoping that they could make it to Grim-hold, Lukien had let Ghost ride up ahead with Akeela crudely strapped to the albino's kreel. Since he couldn't ride a kreel himself he had to share Gilwyn's, and he wanted to give Akeela the best chance of reaching Minikin and her powerful magics. The amulet would save him, he told himself as they hurried over the dunes. If only Minikin would let Akeela have it. It was a gamble but itwas also Akeela's only chance, and Lukien had risked everything to take it, even letting Trager live.

Ghost didn't know for sure if he had killed the general, offering only vague assurances that he had done his best. But Lukien knew it would be worth it if only he could keep Akeela alive. It was the only thing he wanted in the world now.

Then, when Lukien felt confident they were far enough from Jador to make it safely home, he watched Ghost's kreel in front 'Lukien..."

'It's me, Akeela," Lukien reassured him, stroking his face as though he were a child, though Akeela looked impossibly old.

'You came back," rasped Akeela.

'You knew I would. I had to. You're my brother, Akeela."

For the briefest moment the dementia left Akeela's face. "Brothers fight sometimes."

Lukien smiled, remembering the many times he had said that same thing. "That's right. But that doesn't mean they don't love each other."

'Thank you for being my brother, Lukien." Akeela tried to reach up and touch Lukien, but he was too weak. His hand trembled with effort. Lukien took his hand and held it, and knew that it held the very last of Akeela's strength.

'If I had the amulet I could save you," he groaned. "I'm sorry." He fought back tears. "I've killed you, just as I killed Cassandra."

Akeela coughed, his body wracked with pain. "It was me," he gasped. "I killed us all."

Then he closed his eyes and his grip slackened in Lukien's hand. The bubbling of blood around his bandage went on, but his breathing slowed and his face softened.

And then he was dead.

Lukien held his hand and did not let go.

'Akeela?"

When he heard no reply, the tears came at last.

of him come to a skidding halt. The albino, exhausted from his magical efforts to save them, looked down at the bloodied figure slumped in front of him in the saddle. Stricken, he turned and called to Lukien.

'Mother of Fate, no," groaned Lukien. Gilwyn hurried Emerald up to Ghost's kreel. It was dark and they could barely see Akeela, but the moonlight on Ghost's white face exposed the In-human's grim expression.

'He's asking for you, Lukien," said Ghost. Then he shook his head slightly with a sad expression. "I could barely hear him."

Lukien dismounted from Emerald's back as quickly as he could, then went to Akeela and very gently lifted his head. The bandage he had fashioned around Akeela's throat was filthy with dirt and saturated with blood. Akeela's eyes lolled back in his head, but on his lips was Lukien's name, over and over.

Seeing him now, Lukien knew that he'd failed. Akeela had lost too much blood and was too near death to make it to Grimhold.

'Gilwyn," he said softly, "help me get him down. I want to be with him."

'Lukien, we have to keep going. If there's any chance- 'There is no chance, Gilwyn. You were right."

Lukien began undoing the straps keeping Akeela on the kreel while Ghost dismounted. With the albino's help Gilwyn was able to free Akeela's legs and ease him into Lukien's arms. Cradling him like a withered child, Lukien stood in the moonlight, unsure what to do. Gilwyn and Ghost were watching silently. Realizing that he wanted to be alone with Akeela, Lukien turned and walked off toward the dunes. His companions didn't follow. Akeela continued whispering his name as he was carried away, occasionally fluttering his eyes, struggling against death.

'It's all right, Akeela," said Lukien. "I'm here with you now and I'm not going to leave you."

He took Akeela far from Gilwyn and Ghost and their waiting kreels, setting him down in the sand and propping his head up with his hand. There he knelt beside the dying man. Akeela's breath was heavy, coming now in short, choking gasps. He managed to open his eyes just enough to recognize the facehovering over him.

gentle. Typically, his first concern was for his sister. How fares Lariniza, Minikin?

Lariniza inhabited Minikin's own amulet. As the great spirit spoke, Minikin felt his sister pulse within the jewel around her neck.

She is well, Amaraz, replied Minikin. She greets you. Minikin loved Lariniza. She was her protector, her life-giver. She and her powers had kept disease and age from touching Minikin's mortal body, just as her brother had long done for Kadar. Together they were not only the rulers of the Akari, but their protectors as well. It was why the amulets had been formed, and their spirits forever encased within them. Now Lariniza spoke to Minikin, gentle, reassuring words. The spirit of the Eye told her not to be afraid. She urged her human friend to ask her questions.

I worry, Amaraz, said Minikin to the incandescent face. About Grimhold. Ghost is still gone, and I have lost young Gilwyn, too. Tell me please, she begged, can you see them?

Amaraz' face smiled, his teeth like glowing fog. You are a treasure, my Minikin, he said. Do not fear. The albino is well, and the young Lurian. I have been watching them.

Minikin let out a sigh of relief. From the rafters in the ceiling she heard the chorus of spirits do the same. Of all the Akari, only Amaraz could see so clearly. Not even Lacaron, Insight's spirit, was as powerful as he at seeing the world beyond Grimhold. For Lacaron, the world appeared as a fractured mirror. Not so with Amaraz. His vision was as clear as sunshine.

That pleases me, said Minikin. Thank you, Amaraz.

There is more, said the Akari. Your champion is with them.

Lukien? Minikin was overjoyed. He's still alive?

They return to Grimhold even now, said Amaraz. They are uninjured.

Are they near? asked Minikin excitedly.

Very near, replied Amaraz. Moment by moment his face grew more clear as the bond between them grew. It was as if Minikin had left her body behind in an alternate Grimhold, and now she was one of the Akari, floating with them in their own preternatural realm. Amaraz stretched out a hand for Minikin, a hand that i n a small, quiet room in a seldom used wing of Grimhold, Minikin knelt with her palms on her knees and her eyes shut. Before her stood an altar of white stone, the only object of any size in the chamber. On the altar stood two glowing candles. Between the candles rested the amulet of the dead Kadar. The Eye of God lent its ghostly red light to the illumination of the candle, bathing the little room in its warm glow. Minikin felt its heat on her face, saw its radiance against her closed eyelids. Physically, she was alone in the room. Mentally, her mind sang with voices. She could sense them swimming through the air around her, their formless feet and hands like wisps of smoke. Her breathing steadied as she completed her trance, raising her mind to the consciousness of her Akari hosts. Their invisible fingers caressed her, taking her into their dead realm. The presence of Amaraz rose from the amulet to greet her.

In her mind she could see his wizened face, ancient but gentle, shimmering as it came into focus. She kept her eyes closed and concentrated on him. To a novice at the summoning, the little chamber would have seemed empty. Not so with Minikin; to her it was filled with beings. Amaraz' presence subjugated the other Akari. Their ethereal bodies drifted to the back of the room and up to the ceiling, anywhere to make room for the amulet's spirit. Amaraz' shimmering face smiled at Minikin.

Long since you've summoned me, he said. His voice was soothing, of a torch. We are only spirits now, Minikin. We have no bodies to be destroyed.

So? asked Minikin. She guessed at Amaraz' meaning and hoped she was wrong. What are you saying?

Watch!

The fire in Amaraz' palm grew until it consumed his hand, then exploded out in all directions. Minikin felt its heat but no pain, watching in horror as the searing light engulfed the room. The rafters in the ceiling burned, the bricks ignited and tumbled. And all around her the hall of Grimhold filled with fire, like a rushing torrent of red water, until all was in flames and burning. The Akari spirits watched the holocaust from the safety of the air, their faces drawn but resolute. Minikin stood in the center of the room, unscathed, her clothes magically retarding the flames. Slowly she turned to Amaraz and nodded. Enough, she said. I understand.

Amaraz closed his fist, instantly extinguishing the inferno. His expression was grim as he looked at Minikin. If you cannot defeat the northerners beyond these walls, then I will do so within them.

Minikin tried to compose herself. If you do that, all my Inhumane inside the fortress will die.

Then you must make a choice, my Minikin, said Amaraz. Do you have faith in the Lukien and the army he has made? If not, then take your children out of here. Bring them to the village. They will be safe therefrom my power.

They'd be vulnerable in the village, said Minikin. Without these walls to protect them...

Then let them remain, said Amaraz, and have the Bronze Knight protect them.

But if he cannot- Minikin, I have protected your people for years, more years than even I can remember. But I must protect my own people, too. My powers are greatest inside Grimhold. I will not be able to destroy the Lurians outside these walls.

Minikin nodded. His logic was horrible but flawless.

This is our sacred place, the only home left for the Akari. I cannot let it fall into the hands of foreigners, not again. We will not allow it. Take had almost taken form and flesh. She even felt the warmth of his touch. There is more news, my Minikin, said the spirit. The mad Akeela is dead.

Dead? Minikin couldn't believe it. How?

Slain by his general. The Bronze Knight tried to save him. But be warned-the one called Trager still lives.

Minikin didn't know what it meant. Without Akeela, there might be the chance that the Lurians would retreat. It was unlikely, she knew, after what she'd heard about Trager, but there was always the chance.

Perhaps this was the hope that she'd told Lukien about, the unforeseen event that changes the future. She had never imagined that Trager would slay his king.

Will they still come? she asked hopefully. Can you see, Amaraz?

Amaraz never couched his answers in riddles. He said simply, They will come.

Minikin's mood fell. But without their king...

They will come, Minikin, repeated Amaraz gently. I do not need to see the future to tell you this.

The Trager is wounded, but resolute. When he recovers, he will ride for Grimhold.

Of course he will, thought Minikin bitterly. There seemed no way out of this trap. Then we will be ready for them, she declared. Baron Glass has been preparing our defense, and Lukien will soon return to aid us.

Amaraz' warm hand tightened on her own. You will do your best, I know, he said. But I must warn you, my Minikin, I will not allow this hallowed ground to be soiled. The invaders must not breach the gate.

Of course, Amaraz, said Minikin. We'll do our best to defend it.

You do not understand. Amaraz' breath seemed to sigh. I cannot allow Grimhold to fall into foreign hands. He looked up and around the chamber, which had magically expanded now to accommodate hundreds of Akari. The faces of the other spirits were grave. We have spoken, Minikin, and we have agreed. Grimhold must not fall.

Amaraz, I don't understand, said Minikin. Explain yourself, please.

Amaraz kept his gentle grip on Minikin, lifting his other hand toward the ceiling. You may fight outside these walls, he said, but inside we are the masters. A flame grew in his palm, like the fire your children away from here. The walls of Grimhold can withstand my fire. The Inhumans will be able to return once it is over.

They will be dead by then, Amaraz, said Minikin. The Lurians will not send all of their men into the fortress. There will be enough to slay my children in the village. She let her hand slip out of Amaraz'. But I understand. You have been good to us, Amaraz. And we have only been guests, after all.

The Akari looked profoundly sad. More than guests.

Minikin smiled crookedly. More than guests, though not quite family it seems. Do not fear,Amaraz. We will defeat the Lurians somehow.

Before the Akari could reply Minikin opened her eyes, severing the trance. The room around her was again quiet and small. Above her head the rafters were empty. The two candles glowed on the altar.

Between them, the amulet of Amaraz burned like spitting fire. Minikin glanced down at her own amulet and saw that its jewel was pulsing sadly. She heard Lariniza's voice in her head, almost apologizing, but Minikin did not want to hear it. Instead she rose from her knees and left the tiny chamber in search of Baron Glass.

he would remember Akeela, he decided. The way he was before the madness.

But the thought of Akeela's reclamation did little to leaven Lukien's mood. There was still the awful matter of Trager. Had Ghost killed him? The albino seemed to think so, but he couldn't be sure. Lukien flayed himself for fleeing the palace without finishing off his nemesis. It would have been so easy, but Akeela was bleeding and time was so short, and...

Enough, he scolded himself. If Trager still lived, he would deal with him. He would have to.

With dawn breaking over the barren horizon, they came at last to the canyon where Grimhold was hidden. Emerald sniffed her way forward with her tongue, leading the way. Even in the darkness the kreels could see perfectly, their strange eyes widening to catch every glimmer of light. Lukien nudged Ghost as they entered the canyon.

'We're here," he said softly.

The albino's white head scanned the rising walls of rock. "Thank the Fate." He let the reins slacken in his hands. "The kreel will take us the rest of the way."

Up ahead, Lukien could barely see the mountain fortress in the distance, camouflaged by darkness and its own rocky facade. He was about to call out to Gilwyn when another voice startled him from above.

'They're here!"

Ghost bolted upright, and together the trio scanned the cliffs above, but could see nothing but darkness and the sharp contours of rock. Gilwyn jerked Emerald to a halt and whirled her about.

'Who was that?" asked the boy.

Ghost shrugged.

'Ho, there, Lukien!" said the voice again. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere in particular. "Here!" the voice directed. "Above you!"

Lukien focused on the cliffs, at last catching a glimpse of movement. Directly above them a man was perched, waving down at them.

'Lukien, it's me, Darren," said the voice. He leaned out It was almost dawn when Lukien and his entourage finally reached the mountains of Grimhold. They had ridden through the night on their two kreels, Gilwyn on the smaller Emerald while Lukien shared a beast with Ghost. The albino was silent as they rode. Exhausted from all they had been through, he spared Lukien conversation, letting the Bronze Knight mourn Akeela instead. They had buried Akeela in the dunes, digging a shallow grave for him with the help of the kreels and their sharp claws. It was a horrible grave, just enough to keep the vultures off his corpse.

How should I remember him? Lukien wondered as they rode. The moon had fallen and the sky was melancholy, matching his mood.He was glad that he had enjoyed a last moment with Akeela, that in the end they had been brothers again. It was good to see his face untainted by madness, however briefly.

That's how carefully so they could see him better. Lukien recognized him at once. Darren, one of the Inhumans from the village, had a bow in his hand and a beaming smile on his face. As he came into view others joined him, dozens of men with bows and spears who'd taken up position in the rocks.

'Darren, what are you doing up there?" Lukien called to him.

'Baron Glass' orders, Lukien," said Darren. "We're on guard for an attack."