The Sword Of Angels

5

‘Lady White-Eye, will you come?’

The question lingered a long time, ignored as White-Eye distracted herself. She had not expected the invitation. She had thought — hoped, in fact — that her fellow Inhumans had given up asking her. She pretended to toy with the spinning wheel Minikin had given her, though she still did not know how to use it and hadn’t really tried. It was work to keep her mind busy, after all, and distract her from her loss. She shrugged as she sat on the stool, pretending to move the wheel with her hand.

‘I am just learning this, Monster,’ she replied. ‘Tomorrow perhaps.’

The man called Monster inched a bit closer. White-Eye heard his shuffling feet on the stone of her chamber. She was completely blind now, and without her Akari could not see his chiseled face, a face she had always found comforting and oddly handsome. Monster, who was hunch-backed, had served her for years. His forwardness surprised her.

‘My lady, I should reconsider if I were you. You have not been down to see any of us in weeks. You are missed.’

White-Eye frowned. It was the same thing Minikin had been telling her. Since her blinding, she had spent precious little time out of her chambers, taking her meals alone and speaking to no one. Losing her Akari had not been what she expected. It had been far, far worse, and White-Eye had not recovered from the violence of it or been able to understand the crushing blankness of the truly blind. She had not been born with normal eyes. Instead, she had two milky, sightless orbs, but Faralok had showed her the world with his Akari magic, saving her from a life of walking into walls. Without him, blackness had enveloped her. Every sound, strange and familiar, made her fearful.

‘You should get downstairs, Monster, before all the food is gone or cold.’

She didn’t like refusing him, but there was no choice for her. She was a shut-in now, and too old to learn the ways of the blind. She would not have them all staring, pitying her.

‘Will you sup alone again, then?’ Monster probed. ‘It is not good to eat alone, my lady. My dear mother taught me that when I was just a child.’ She could hear him smile, and knew the anecdote was meant to coax her out. ‘Eating alone does strange things to the stomach, she would say. She didn’t want me to feel different from others, you see.’ Again he stepped closer, coming to stop in front of the spinning wheel. White-Eye could feel his kind eyes looking down at her. ‘It’s that way for you now, my lady. You need to be with the rest of us.’

White-Eye felt terror knotting in her stomach. Why was he pushing her so? As kahana, she could order him away, but even that was too much for her. How could she possibly give orders now, so weak and useless she couldn’t even feed herself? She was no kahana, not any more.

‘I cannot, Monster,’ she said. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the desperate feelings. ‘I am not ready.’

Monster’s face came very close to her as he whispered, ‘We are all Inhumans, my lady. This is Grimhold. No one will judge you.’

‘They will,’ said White-Eye. ‘They will not mean to, but they will. I do not want them to see me like this, blind and weak.’

‘You are afraid, I know,’ said Monster gently, ‘but I am here, right here with you. And anyone who laughs will have to deal with me!’ He punched his thumb into his chest so that White-Eye could hear the thump. ‘Now, shall you walk or will I have to carry you? I can do it, you know. Not very fitting for a Jadori kahana.’

He was only half-joking, and White-Eye didn’t laugh. Though horribly hunched from birth, Monster’s Akari had given him amazing strength. He could easily hoist her over his shoulder and carry her down to the dining chamber. Since Lukien had gone and Gilwyn after him, Monster seemed to have pronounced himself her protector. White-Eye, though, had trouble trusting him. He was, quite probably, just one more man who would leave her.

‘And what will you do when I stick a fork in my eye instead of my mouth?’ she asked. ‘Make a joke to cover my clumsiness? Thank you, no.’ She went back to distracting herself with the spinning wheel, pretending to feed it wool and hoping Monster would leave. When he did not, she looked up at him again. ‘You may go now.’

Monster hesitated. Then she felt his rough hand guiding her own, easing the strands of wool into the wheel.

‘You could do this if you wanted to,’ he said, ‘but you have not even tried, I can tell.’

White-Eye froze under the accusation. She sat back on the stool, her shoulders slumping.

‘I did not want this thing,’ she said. ‘Minikin brought it here to distract me.’

‘No, to teach you,’ Monster corrected mildly. ‘Minikin knows you can do things if you will try.’

‘I am blind, Monster!’

‘Yes, I know,’ said the Inhuman evenly. ‘Does that mean you have no friends here?’

The words struck White-Eye. She breathed to steady herself. There would be no convincing him, not this time. So she put out her hand.

‘Take it,’ she commanded. ‘And do not let go.’

Monster was good to his promise. He carefully led White-Eye to the dining chamber of Grimhold, the place where the young kahana had always taken her meals and conversed with her fellow Inhumans. Tonight, the chamber was filled with familiar voices, most of which hushed when she entered. Monster ignored the silence, leading White-Eye to her familiar chair. Since losing Faralok, White-Eye had yet to be surrounded by so many people. She gripped Monster’s hand a little tighter as she took her seat.

‘Who is here?’ she whispered.

‘We’re all here, my lady,’ replied Monster.

It was true, White-Eye knew, because even their stares were familiar to her. Next to her, she heard Monster sit himself down. His misshapen body could not comfortably accommodate a normal chair, so he always used a stool. White-Eye put her hands down to feel the table, a sturdy slab of rectangular marble stretching out into the chamber. There were others like it in the hall, too, enough to seat hundreds of Grimhold’s odd inhabitants. White-Eye did not have to listen hard to hear them all — they’re anxious breathing assaulted her.

‘Welcome, my lady,’ came a sudden voice.

White-Eye turned toward the sound, wondering who had spoken.

‘It’s me, Dreena,’ the voice offered.

‘Oh, Dreena,’ White-Eye replied. She licked her lips, feeling flushed suddenly. ‘Hello.’

Like most of Grimhold’s people, Dreena was an Inhuman, another blind girl who Minikin had found in Farduke as a child. She was about White-Eye’s age now, but still had an Akari to help her see.

‘Welcome, kahana,’ said another voice, and then another and another greeted her, overwhelming White-Eye. She sat leaned back in her throne like chair, nodding as she tried to recognize the voices. Most of them were easy for her to recall; she had spent years with these people. One voice, however, remained absent. White-Eye turned to Monster.

‘Is Minikin here?’ she whispered.

‘No, my lady.’

White-Eye frowned. ‘No? Why not?’

The hunchback sighed before answering. ‘She has gone to Jador.’

‘Jador?’ White-Eye puzzled over the comment. She was kahana of Jador, but had abdicated her responsibilities now. Still, she missed her homeland and its dark-skinned people. ‘Minikin said nothing of this trip to me. Why did she go?’

‘I do not know, my lady. She left early this morning. She took no one with her, only Trog.’

‘She has gone to do my work for me,’ said White-Eye sullenly. ‘What I should be doing.’

‘No, my lady.’

‘Yes, Monster, yes,’ White-Eye insisted. ‘First I let Gilwyn take charge of Jador, and now that he is gone a foreigner is looking after Jador.’

‘Minikin did not say why she was going to Jador,’ said Monster, fighting to contain his impatience. ‘But it was not to look after Lorn, I am sure.’

‘You are sure? How can you be?’ asked White-Eye angrily, though she was more angry at herself than anyone else. She sank back into her chair, her appetite all but gone. Lorn was a man of terrible reputation, Gilwyn’s decision to leave him in charge of Jador had shocked her. He had not even asked her opinion. He had simply left Jador in Lorn’s hands, then fled north to rescue Baron Glass. White-Eye felt the weight of guilt crushing her shoulders. ‘Minikin should have told me she was going,’ she said.

Around her, her fellow Inhumans had begun their meal. Servants began moving plates and setting pots down on the tables. White-Eye heard knives carving and the tinkle of glassware. She disappeared into the noise, hoping no one was watching her. The thought of Minikin riding to Jador saddened her, because she knew the little woman was unwell. The battle against Aztar had weakened her, sapping her good nature, making her feel old. And in truth, Minikin was old, far older than anyone else in Grimhold or Jador. She was hundreds of years old now, and amazingly, she was only now showing her age.

‘My lady? You should eat something,’ Monster suggested. He put some food into her plate, then pushed it closer to her. ‘Your fork is near your right hand.’

‘Monster, I’m not hungry. Let it be enough that I have come to be with everyone.’

‘You need strength, my lady, to recover.’

‘I am fine. And I can never recover from what’s happened to me.’

‘That is not true. You should not tell yourself such lies.’

White-Eye felt trapped suddenly, not wanting Monster’s help but unable to get back to her chambers without him. She muttered, ‘You have your Akari still. I can never have another, and you have no idea what that is like. I have come because you asked me to come, because everyone wanted to see me. And here I am! But I cannot see them, Monster, and you cannot guess how horrible it is.’ She gave a heavy, lamenting sigh. ‘I am sorry, but that is the truth.’

Monster did not argue with her. Instead he took her hand and wrapped it gently around her fork.

‘There is meat and carrots on your plate. Eat.’

‘I am not a child!’

‘No. You are kahana. Act like it.’

Furious, White-Eye stabbed her fork down, skewering a piece of meat. Feeling it securely on the utensil, she carefully raised the fork to her mouth. The meat was too large, so she nibbled at it, wondering how grotesque she looked and reminding herself that she was indeed kahana.

They are friends, she told herself. They will not laugh.

And indeed they did not. The other Inhumans kept up with the meal they way they always did, though this time they gave the kahana the space she required. Instead of barraging her with anecdotes, they left her alone to eat. White-Eye chewed her food absently, listening to the chatter at the table. Dreena was speaking, talking about her day with the sheep. There were new lambs born today, three of them. One was black and smaller than the rest.

‘A runt,’ Dreena proclaimed. ‘Like Emerald. I wish Gilwyn was here to see it.’

White-Eye stopped chewing, and for a moment the conversation stopped. She hadn’t heard Gilwyn’s name mentioned previously, for they all knew he had left and no word had been heard from him.

‘Continue, please,’ White-Eye told her companions. ‘I know Gilwyn is well. I am not worried about him.’

It was a lie, but it helped to alleviate the tense mood, and soon Dreena went back to talking about the little black lamb that reminded her so much of Gilwyn’s kreel. Monster leaned over then and spoke gently to White-Eye.

‘You see? Isn’t it better to be with us, instead of alone in your chamber? You are doing well, my lady.’

White-Eye smiled, happy at the compliment. Forgetting her blindness, she reached out for her goblet. .

And promptly knocked it over. The noise abruptly halted the conversation. White-Eye felt wine dripping into her lap, soaking through her gown. Heat rushed through her face in embarrassment. She lifted her hands carefully away from the table, holding them up to shield herself from the pitying looks.

‘It’s nothing,’ Monster hurried to say. ‘Just a spill. It’s nothing.’

To White-Eye, though, the wine was scalding water. With her hands still out before her, she pushed back her chair and stood up.

‘Monster, take me upstairs, please.’

‘Kahana. .’

‘Please.’

The Inhumans said nothing as Monster relented, taking White-Eye’s hand and guiding her out of the room. White-Eye’s rubbery legs carried her slowly away. Crushed with embarrassment, she wanted only the four walls of chamber and the quiet blackness of her dead eyes.

Minikin arrived at Jador at dusk, along with two Jadori warriors as escorts and her bodyguard Trog. The desert evening was closing in on the city, blushing scarlet on the cloudless horizon, and the minarets of Jador glowed with a golden aura. The city was blessedly peaceful, a welcome sight after the long ride through the desert, and because Minikin had not announced her arrival there were no Jadori guards to greet her or children to cheer her arrival. Instead, the streets near the palace were wonderfully quiet. In fact they were always quiet lately, for the city was still licking its wounds, rebuilding from both the battle with Prince Aztar and the war with Akeela a year before. There were fewer Jadori warriors now than ever and far too many widows, and Jador was recovering slowly from the blow, still mourning their dead and the terrible thing that had befallen their kahana, the beloved White-Eye.

Minikin slowed her kreel as they rode into Jador, bidding her escorts to do the same. Now that she was in the city she was in no hurry. The warriors accompanying her kept back a few paces, leaving her and the mute Trog to study the city by themselves. Trog’s kreel was an enormous beast, by far the largest in Jador, with a back broad enough to support Minikin’s giant bodyguard. Trog himself was not an accomplished kreel rider, not like the warriors, but the kreel he rode was gentle and intelligent like all of its breed, and had carried him effortlessly to Jador, without any guidance from the giant. Still, Trog looked eager to dismount, tottering on the beast’s back as he surveyed the city with his saucer-like eyes.

‘Yes, it’s good to be back,’ said Minikin wearily.

They had not been to Jador since the battle with Aztar, when she had summoned the magic to incinerate the prince’s army. It had been a galling, exhausting thing to do and it had sapped the little woman’s strength. It had even made her doubt her purpose, for she had never taken so many lives before. She was old now and she knew it, and the time had come to give up a bit of her authority. But Gilwyn was no longer in the city, and White-Eye was teetering on the brink of hysteria, driven to depression by her new-found blindness. There seemed little any of them could do.

Minikin looked west, toward the entrance of the city that bordered the Ganjeese township. She could barely see the city gate or the tower where she had watched the battle, summoning the Akari fire that had scorched the earth and taken so many of Aztar’s men. Aztar himself had mostly likely perished in the flames, a small blessing for the horror she had unleashed, Minikin supposed. She rode forward a bit, surveying the quiet streets near the palace. Without Gilwyn in residence, the area around the palace had become desolate. It was said that King Lorn had the Jadori working hard in the Ganjeese province, building new and better homes for the Seekers who had come across the desert and strengthening the defenses around Jador. The rumbles about his harshness had reached Minikin all the way in Jador. She looked around, trying to determine if the complaints were true. In fact, Jador did look more orderly to her. The streets had been cleaned of rubble and debris, and the distant tower stood proudly against the horizon. Squinting, Minikin could see people down the avenue, dark-skinned Jadori walking casually in the twilight. Riding a bit further, she heard the gurgle of a fountain. She turned, surprised to see the pretty thing spouting water again after being so long neglected. Because she was approaching the palace now, she and her escort were easily sighted by a pair of Jadori guardians patrolling near the garden. Usually, the Mistress of Grimhold was greeted by a procession of well wishers. As the guards hurried toward her, she girded herself.

‘N’jara,’ she said, telling them in their own tongue to stay quiet. She held up her hands as she spoke. ‘N’jara, bisa.’

The Jadori looked around, confused, then quietly approached her, beaming smiles at the adored mistress. They asked if she was well and why she had not told them she was arriving. Minikin smiled at the men, explaining that she had come to speak with King Lorn and that she was very tired. She did not want the people of the township to know she had come. Both men nodded, understanding her concerns. She was always swamped with questions by the Seekers in the township, people from the north like King Lorn who had come across the desert in search of healing magic.

‘King Lorn; is he in the palace?’ Minikin asked in Jadori.

‘No, Mistress,’ replied one of the guards. ‘Lorn is at the gate. Shall we take you to him?’

Realizing that riding near the gate would expose her arrival easily, Minikin politely shook her head. She loved the Seekers and admired them. They had all gone through remarkable hardships to find their way to Grimhold, and she had been forced to refuse them, making them live outside Jador’s white wall because there was simply no room for them in the city, and no way to cure their ailments. They had come to Jador on a rumour, calling it Mount Believer, sure they would find magic in the city to straighten their bent limbs and clear their sightless eyes. And they had overwhelmed tiny Jador. Without meaning to, they had stretched the city and its meagre resources to the breaking point.

‘I will wait for King Lorn in the palace,’ said Minikin. ‘His child, Poppy — she is well?’

The warrior nodded. ‘Yes, Mistress, the baby is well. She grows stronger. The woman who tends to her is with her now in the garden. We can take you to her.’

‘Yes, that would be fine,’ said Minikin eagerly. She had never spoken to Eirian before, but knew it was her chance to find out how Lorn was faring. Lorn was deeply fond of Eirian, a woman from the north like himself though far younger than the deposed king. She had even taken to raising Lorn’s daughter Poppy, feeding her from her own breast and seeing to her every need. ‘I will await King Lorn with the girl.’

‘Lorn may take his time,’ the warrior warned. ‘He spends much of the day working.’

‘Does he?’ asked Minikin brightly. ‘I have heard complaints about him. I have heard that he is working everyone else too hard, but not himself.’

The warrior’s expression grew embarrassed. ‘Forgive me, Mistress, it is not my place to speak against Lorn.’

‘But you have, yes?’

The man nodded. ‘Yes. He is a foreigner.’

‘Gilwyn was a foreigner,’ Minikin reminded the man.

‘Yes, Mistress, but Gilwyn was regent,’ the guard replied.

‘Yes, regent,’ his companion agreed. ‘He was chosen by Kahana White-Eye.’

‘And Lorn has been chosen by Gilwyn,’ said Minikin. By now the warriors who had escorted her were listening intently. Minikin looked at each of them. ‘I do not mean to scold you, truly. I wish only to know what is happening here.’

The guards became sheepish. Finally, the first one to speak nodded. ‘Lorn works as hard as any man. Harder than most, even.’

‘To defend us,’ added his fellow guardian. ‘That is what he claims.’

‘And you believe this claim?’

The guards looked at each other, wondering what each was thinking. None of the palace guards had ever been comfortable speaking frankly with the mistress, not in all the years she had been coming to Jador. The boldest of the pair shrugged and confessed what he was thinking.

‘Some say he is building a new kingdom for himself,’ said the man, ‘because he no longer has his own.’

The other Jadori remained silent at the accusation. Minikin supposed they were equally as suspicious. She saw it in their eyes.

‘I will have words with King Lorn when he returns,’ she said. ‘For now, take us to the garden, please.’

The guards bowed, then turned and walked off, leading Minikin and her companions back toward the palace and the lush, quiet gardens bordering the barren desert.

*

Along with the setting sun, the ache in Lorn’s back told him it was time to quit.

He had spent the day the way he had spent so many since coming to Jador, laying bricks and digging holes. It was difficult work, even for a man half his age, but Lorn attacked it with vigour, renewed by the challenge Gilwyn had given him to look after the city and thrilled to be useful again. Two battles, both in the space of a year, had set Jador back on its heels. There were shortages of everything and only meagre defenses to protect the city. Manpower was scarce, horses were almost nonexistent, and the people of the township — northerners like Lorn himself — lived in comparative squalor to the Jadori themselves, secure behind their gleaming white wall. Because most of the Seekers who had come to Jador were not able-bodied, they were of little use to Lorn’s rebuilding efforts, though they tried gamely to help by bringing water and supplies. It was the Jadori themselves who did most of the toil.

Lorn stepped away from the bricks he had laid and admired his handiwork. In Norvor he had been a king, but Jazana Carr had reduced him to poverty and sent him fleeing from his homeland with only his daughter and the clothes on his back. Along with Eirian and the others, he had eventually found himself here in Jador, seeking the protection of the city and its healing magic, magic he had hoped would cure Poppy of deafness and clouded, nearly useless eyes. Instead, he had found only excuses in Jador, a thousand unfathomable reasons why his daughter could not be healed. But Lorn had not been angered. Though Minikin claimed she could not heal his daughter, she and the Jadori had welcomed him and his fellow travellers, thanking them for their help in defending the city by allowing them to live in the palace. Now, with Gilwyn gone, the palace was Lorn’s to protect — just like everything else in the ancient city.

So Lorn began by building walls.

While others worked hard to construct housing for the Seekers, the refugees who had come across the desert, Lorn had decided that the township itself needed a wall, just like the one its big sister Jador wore. He had enlisted the help of every able-bodied northerner and Ganjeese trader willing to help, and so far they had made commendable progress. It surprised Lorn how ill prepared Jador had been for Aztar’s attack. They were amateurs at defending a city, all of them, and though young Gilwyn had tried gamely he had been a very poor regent by Lorn’s reckoning. The Jadori were slack. And the township, a huge, sprawl of houses that had sprung up over the decades for Ganjeese travellers, had almost no defenses at all. Not even a wall.

‘But not for long,’ said Lorn, clapping the dust from his hands. He had finished the fifth course for this section of the wall, using brick made in the township and washed the same, gleaming white as the wall around Jador. It would take months to finish, he knew, but it didn’t matter. The wall was needed. More importantly, it gave the desperate Seekers of the township something useful to do.

Lorn ran a dirty hand through his matted hair and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had worked longer than almost anyone else. With night falling, most of the others had gone back to their families to eat and rest. The rumbling in Lorn’s stomach told him it was time for him to eat, too. Satisfied, he took a breath and listened to the still desert air. Amazingly, he was growing accustomed to the heat and dryness.

‘Enough now,’ he called, signalling his fellows workers to stop. Three men had remained with him at the site, all of them brothers from Marn, and all of them afflicted with a blood disease that weakened their bodies and made their bones brittle. Yet despite their ailments and the hopelessness of their plight, they had worked tirelessly alongside Lorn, because their father had been a brick-layer in Marn and had died from the same inexplicable disease. ‘We can start again tomorrow, but right now my back aches like I’ve been stabbed and if I don’t get some decent food I’m going to collapse.’

Tarlan, the nearest of the siblings, slung a dipper through a bucket of water and offered it to Lorn. Grateful, Lorn drank, then handed the dipper back to Tarlan. The brothers had sprung from the same womb at the same time and all had the same blonde, cow-licked hair. They were much younger than Lorn, too, barely half his age, though their desperate ailments meant they could only do half the work, as well.

‘Come back to our house tonight, Lorn,’ said Harliz. The most ill of the triplets, Harliz stooped considerably even when he walked. He liked to joke that he had the perfect position for laying bricks. Whenever Lorn looked at him, he could see the considerable pain on his face. ‘It’s late and you look about to die. Our house isn’t far.’

‘I look about to die?’ countered Lorn. ‘You should get a mirror for your home.’

‘We have a mirror,’ said the third brother, Garmin. ‘Harliz loves to look at himself.’ He went to his stooped brother and playfully mussed his hair. ‘See? He’s the prettiest of us all!’

‘And I have a prettier one still, waiting for me back at the palace,’ said Lorn. ‘I would rather spend time in her bed than with any of you mutts.’

The brothers laughed, relieved to be done for the day. They had worked hard for Lorn, and he was grateful. Like most of the Seekers, the brothers accepted their lot. There would be no healing for them. Lorn stretched his back and tried to work the aches from his muscles. In Norvor, he had never had to work so hard. While he bent to touch his toes, he heard his name being called from a nearby street. He rose to see a man hurrying toward him on a kreel, one of the Jadori warriors named Amarl who guarded the palace. In the failing light Lorn could barely make out his dark features wrapped beneath his flowing gaka. The people in the street parted as the kreel loped past them. The brothers from Marn gaped at the beast.

‘Amarl?’ Lorn called. ‘What is it?’

Amarl reined back his kreel. The hot night made the reptile’s skin glisten. Its long tongue darted out to taste the dusty air. Amarl unwrapped the black cloth from around his face. He was one of the few inside the palace who could manage the language of the continent, and that was why Lorn depended on him so much.

‘The mistress has returned, King Lorn,’ said the warrior. He had a throaty, commanding voice. Like most of his race his eyes were black and fierce. ‘You should come.’

‘The mistress?’ asked Lorn. ‘You mean the little one?’

‘She awaits you in the gardens. She is sitting with your woman.’

The news surprised Lorn — and excited him. He had only spoken to Minikin once, when he had first arrived in Jador with Poppy. She had thanked him for his help against Aztar, then promptly denied his daughter access to Grimhold. There were reasons, of course, and Lorn understood them. But he held out hope that his good deeds for the city might change her mind. Lorn turned toward Harliz and his brothers.

‘Tomorrow,’ he told them. ‘Get well rested. I’ll be back in the morning.’

The brothers nodded, watching in awe as the Jadori swept Lorn onto the back of the kreel. Lorn fought for balance then held tightly as the great beast hurried toward the palace.

The sun had gone completely by the time Lorn reached the palace. He stepped carefully into the garden, hiding behind broad-leafed plants and listening for Minikin. Torches had been lit and the garden glowed a pleasant yellow. The flowers and light swayed in a warm breeze. Lorn noticed Eirian first, sitting in their usual spot, a place where they could see the desert beyond the outskirts of Jador. Tonight the desert stretched darkly into nothingness. Eirian held Poppy in her arms, swaddled in white cotton as the baby nursed from her breast. Lorn peered around the plants, then saw Minikin seated across from Eirian. The little woman’s feet dangled like a child’s from her chair. The shadow of her brutish bodyguard fell across her shoulder. She was talking gently to Eirian, admiring the child in her arms. Lorn smiled, proud of Eirian and the way she had handled the interruption. Not even this magical midget could upset his Eirian.

Lorn smoothed down his grey hair and straightened his rumpled shirt. A lane of cobblestones led to the sitting area. Lorn stepped onto the lane and adjusted his pliant face to greet Minikin. As he approached she looked up at him, a strange grin splashing across her elfish face. She made to rise, but Lorn quickly stopped her.

‘No, do not get up,’ he told her. ‘Sit, please.’ He paused at Eirian’s chair, resting a hand on her shoulder. Eirian greeted him with a smile.

‘You were quick,’ said Eirian. ‘The mistress only just arrived.’

‘As quick as I could be,’ Lorn said. He bowed slightly at the tiny woman. ‘I’m honoured to see you again, my lady.’

Minikin sat back and closed her coat around herself. The coat swam with colour as if alive. Around her neck she wore a golden amulet, most of it hidden beneath the coat’s miraculous fabric. His grey eyes seemed haunted, though happy too that Lorn had come.

‘It is good to see you, King Lorn,’ she said, her voice like music. As Lorn stood next to Eirian’s chair, so too did the giant Trog stand beside his mistress. ‘You have been busy, apparently.’

Lorn glanced down at his filthy clothes. Mud caked his boots. ‘Forgive me, my lady. This is the second time I have not been given time to prepare for you! Did Eirian tell you? I have been working at the township.’

‘I know,’ said Minikin. ‘You have been keeping everyone in the city occupied, King Lorn.’

There was a trace of reproach in her tone. Lorn grinned at her.

‘There is much to do here, Lady Minikin. A lot of work was left undone. I am only doing the things that were left neglected for too long.’

Minikin sharpened her own smile, then looked at Eirian. ‘Child, would you leave us to talk alone, please? I have things to discuss with King Lorn, private matters.’

Her request didn’t surprise Lorn. Nor did it surprise Eirian, who gladly accepted the invitation to leave, sensing the coming clash.

‘I do not mind at all,’ said Eirian as she rose from her chair. ‘I should tend to my father anyway. It was good to meet you, Lady Minikin. I hope we can speak again some time.’

She had the politeness of a princess at court, and her manners delighted Minikin, who gave Eirian a cheerful good-bye as she left the garden. Her almond eyes watched Eirian as she left.

‘A beautiful woman,’ the mistress commented. ‘You are fortunate, King Lorn. She adores you. It is so plain to see.’

‘And I her,’ said Lorn. He took the seat Eirian had vacated, relaxing in the ornate iron chair. ‘I was truly blessed to find her. She’s a tiger. She reminds me of my wife, Rinka. Rinka wasn’t afraid of anything, and neither is Eirian.’

‘And she loves the child,’ Minikin added. ‘She is like the babe’s mother.’

‘Aye, I couldn’t be more fortunate. This is a good place for Poppy.’ Lorn studied Minikin’s expression for any sign of hope. ‘Unless, of course, you have a better place for her.’

It was the same argument they had gone through in their first meeting, and just like that time Minikin shook her head, shattering Lorn’s hopes.

‘No, King Lorn, that’s not why I have come. Nothing has changed in Grimhold. There is still no Akari for Poppy.’

‘Pardon me, but I have heard about what happened to White-Eye. Before he left, Gilwyn explained it to me. She was severed from her Akari, and it is tragic. But would that not free up her Akari for Poppy?’

‘No, because it does not work that way. You are a stranger here, King Lorn, and I do not expect you to understand the bond between Akari and Inhuman. White-Eye’s Akari was taken from her in violence.’ Minikin dropped her gaze a little. ‘Faralok is lost to us.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lorn. ‘But for my daughter’s sake I had to ask.’

‘I have not forgotten Poppy, or my promise to you. She is always in my thoughts, and if the time comes I will make arrangements for her. But I have explained this to you already, King Lorn. There are many like Poppy, and they have been here longer.’

‘I understand,’ said Lorn, unable to hid his disappointment. Over Minikin’s shoulder, the brooding Trog stared at him. The great bald giant with the overbite didn’t seem to understand anything that was being discussed, but his gaze unsettled Lorn. ‘So,’ Lorn continued, ‘if you have not come to talk of Poppy, then you have come to talk about what I have been doing here. I assure you, Lady Minikin, you have nothing to worry about.’

‘Good, because I want your assurances, King Lorn. I want to know that Gilwyn made the right decision when he gave Jador over to you.’

‘Let me correct you. Gilwyn did not give me the city. He asked me to look after it for him, because of what happened to White-Eye and because of what has happened to you, as well. Forgive this impertinence, but you have not been well. Your heart aches from what you did in the battle with Prince Aztar. I know. I was there, remember.’

Minikin’s normally placid face grew stormy. ‘I have no regrets.’

‘My lady, I was King of Norvor for sixteen years. I killed people just as you did, and I never regretted it either. I did what had to be done, just like you. But I never enjoyed it. So you need not pretend with me. Believe it or not, I know what guilt feels like.’

‘So,’ sighed Minikin, ‘that is why Gilwyn asked you to look after things. I thought as much. And he is correct. I am old now, King Lorn, far older than you can imagine. And I need young people like Gilwyn and White-Eye to look after things. I cannot do it on my own, not any longer. Jador has grown too much, and with Grimhold’s secret out in the world. .’ She shrugged. ‘Others are needed. And that’s why I have come here.’

‘I’m not certain I understand you, Lady Minikin. You have not come to speak about Jador?’

‘In a way, yes, but I haven’t come to criticize you, or even to curtail you.’

‘That is good, because I made a promise to young Gilwyn.’

‘And you intend to keep it.’

Lorn nodded. ‘Precisely right.’

‘I have no argument with you, King Lorn. Not yet, at least. You promised Gilwyn you would look after things in the city. That is good. Gilwyn is young, but wise. He is concerned about Jador, and he is concerned about White-Eye. I am concerned about White-Eye as well. Gilwyn was only regent of Jador. He and White-Eye are not married. Only her desire made him regent over Jador.’

‘I know that,’ said Lorn. ‘My lady, your meaning is clear. I know that I am not Jador’s rightful ruler. .’

‘No, you misunderstand me, King Lorn. I have not come to talk about you. I have come to talk about White-Eye.’

‘White-Eye? I do not even know the girl.’

‘But I do, and I can tell you that she is not well, not at all,’ said Minikin. At last the mistress sat back, looking remarkably old. The torchlight wavered on her face. ‘I have known White-Eye since she was born. Her father, Kadar — he gave her to me to look after. Did you know that?’

‘Yes,’ said Lorn. ‘Gilwyn told me that. You are like a mother to the girl, that’s what he said.’

‘A mother?’ Minikin brightened. ‘I like to think that’s true. I have tried to make her strong. And she is strong, King Lorn. White-Eye is like her father. Even when he died, White-Eye was strong. But not now. She has lost her Akari.’

‘I confess, I do not really know what that means,’ Lorn admitted. ‘Gilwyn has tried to explain it to me, but this bond between people and spirits; it vexes me.’

Minikin gave a knowing chuckle. With Trog’s big hand still on her chair, she reached over her shoulder and patted it. ‘The Inhumans use their Akari to help them. Without her Akari, White-Eye is as blind as your daughter, Poppy. But Poppy has never known sight, while White-Eye has had it robbed from her.’

Lorn tried to look moved. ‘It must be terrible.’

‘Terrible? At least that. White-Eye has not only lost her sight but also part of her soul. That is what an Akari is like — they become part of their hosts. She has never been so alone, and it has damaged her. She no longer thinks of herself as kahana. And she must, King Lorn, because she must rule here someday.’

‘But how can she? She never even comes to Jador because of the sun. How can she rule the city?’

‘White-Eye made Gilwyn regent so that he could look after things while she stayed in Grimhold,’ said Minikin. ‘But what if Gilwyn never returns?’ She looked hard at Lorn. ‘Have you not considered that?’

‘I have,’ said Lorn. ‘He is young, and I warned him when he left that there would be dangers. That is why I am trying to prepare Jador, Lady Minikin. The city needs to be strong.’

‘Indeed, and it needs a strong leader. You are strong, certainly, but you are not Jadori and you were not chosen by White-Eye. The city needs its kahana. And White-Eye needs to be whole again. She needs to see that she is strong, that she can lead.’

‘I’m sorry, my lady, but I am still lost. What is it you want of me?’

Minikin at last got out of her chair. She padded over to stand before Lorn, who looked up in confusion into her troubled face. She returned his gaze directly, her eyes gentle and encouraging.

‘You have done a great deal for Jador, King Lorn,’ she said. ‘Some think you are ambitious and that you only agreed to help us for your own self interest. I do not believe that about you. Gilwyn believes in you, and so do I.’

Lorn wanted to look away, but forced himself to meet the lady’s gaze. ‘You are na??ve to say that,’ he replied. ‘You are speaking to King Lorn the Wicked.’

‘That is what they call you up north. Not here.’ Minikin touched his hand. ‘I have a great favour to ask of you.’

A day later, White-Eye remained in her bleak chambers, waiting for sleep to come. The spinning wheel Minikin had given her sat neglected in the corner of the room. White-Eye sat near a windowless wall, listening to the deaf-making silence.

Alone.

The profoundness of her solitude frightened White-Eye. While Faralok was with her, she was never really alone. He had been her constant companions, even making her dreams vivid. Now, closed or open, her eyes surveyed the same blackness. The sound of her own breathing grated loudly on her brain. She did not know the time, for time moved like syrup now, dripping slowly in frozen drops. Occasional footfalls outside her door told her that it was not yet very late, but to White-Eye the time didn’t really matter. One moment was like the next or the one before, and to sleep meant nightmares. So she remained in her chair, brooding, neglecting to grope her way toward her bed.

She would be ‘all right.’ In time. That’s what they all were saying, and it angered White-Eye. She had nothing but time these days, and no way to help herself or her people. Even Gilwyn was lost to her.

‘How much time?’ she wondered aloud. In her stark chamber, her voice rang hollow.

Then, remarkably, she heard a knock at her door. White-Eye sat up and turned toward the door, cocking her head to listen.

‘White-Eye? I’m coming in.’

The door opened. A pair of little feet entered the room. White-Eye tried to smile, feeling the presence of her beloved Minikin. There was another with her, too, bigger and larger. White-Eye puzzled, for the sense of the person felt unlike Trog.

‘White-Eye, I’ve just returned,’ said Minikin. She went to stand beside White-Eye’s chair, to touch the girl’s arm. A gentle kiss caressed her head. ‘How are you?’

‘The same.’ Though she was glad Minikin had come, she could give no other answer. ‘Minikin, who is with you?’

White-Eye felt her pull away. The other — a stranger — stepped into the room.

‘Kahana,’ said the voice, a man White-Eye did not recognize. ‘I am Lorn of Norvor.’

White-Eye got unsteadily out of her chair to face him. ‘I know you,’ she said. ‘Gilwyn told me about you.’

She felt Lorn step closer. Even in her blindness his presence felt enormous. Minikin did not touch White-Eye again, but stayed near her.

‘What happened to you is a great tragedy,’ said Lorn. ‘You have my sympathies.’

White-Eye nodded, confused. ‘King Lorn, you have surprised me. I did not expect you to be coming here.’ She turned toward Minikin for an explanation. ‘Is there a reason?’

Minikin shrunk under the question. ‘White-Eye,’ she sighed, ‘please listen to me. Lorn is here to help you.’

‘Help me? How?’

‘You are going back to Jador with me,’ said Lorn. ‘To be Kahana.’

White-Eye was in no mood for jests. ‘Be serious, now. .’

‘I am serious, my lady,’ said Lorn. ‘It is what Minikin has asked of me, to make you into a ruler.’

‘What?’ White-Eye asked furiously. ‘Minikin, what is this? Tell him to leave at once.’

‘Child, it is necessary,’ said Minikin. ‘Jador needs you.’

White-Eye put up her hands, shaking her head and backpeddling until she hit her chair. ‘No! Go away!’

‘Listen to me,’ Minikin insisted. ‘You think you are useless because you are blind. But you are Kahana! You cannot sit forever in this room. You must learn things, things that Lorn can teach you.’

‘Him?’ White-Eye shrieked.

‘I will be as gentle as I can with you, Kahana.’ She felt Lorn stalking closer. ‘I will teach you how to lead your people, and how to overcome your terrors.’

‘This is madness!’ White-Eye collapsed into her chair, turning away from them both. ‘Look at me! How can you do this to me?’

‘It is necessary,’ Minikin said, her voice pleading. ‘This is not to hurt you. It is to make you strong. You must see that you can still do things.’

‘I do not want to do things! I want to be left alone!’

Minikin took a breath to quiet down them all. Finally she said, ‘Lorn will not leave without you, White-Eye. You must go with him to Jador.’

‘Minikin, I cannot! I cannot stand the light!’

‘It is dark now, Kahana,’ said Lorn. ‘And I will not allow any harm to come to you. We will travel through the night, and while the sun is up you can stay within the palace.’

‘And what will you do with me in the palace?’ White-Eye asked. ‘Tutor me? Like I am some dullard?’

Lorn quickly seized her hand in his own. ‘Do you feel that?’

White-Eye could not break from his grasp.

‘Do you feel that?’ he asked again.

‘Your hand?’

‘Aye, my hand. Do you feel the strength of it, girl? I have been through a hundred heartaches like yours.’

He yanked her to her feet. She stared blankly, frightened.

‘You and I are special, girl. We are rulers. I’m going to teach you what that means.’

White-Eye felt herself shaking. She tried to pry his fingers free, but they were like corded ropes.

‘King Lorn, I am afraid!’

His grasp wouldn’t slacken. ‘You have dragons,’ he said. ‘Together we will slay them. I will teach you.’

White-Eye turned hopelessly toward Minikin. ‘Minikin, I do not want this. Please. .’

The mistress would not comfort her. ‘He won’t harm you, White-Eye. He has promised it and I believe him. There are kreels and warriors waiting to escort you.’

The madness of the moment seemed inescapable. White-Eye nodded, not really agreeing, not wanting to struggle. Lorn’s hand remained strong. She kept hold of it even as he took his first slow steps toward the door.