The Sword Of Angels

87

Lukien lay in the steaming water, his wet hair dripping into his one, half-closed eye. His naked body had given itself over to the warmth, falling into an almost trance-like relaxation. Overhead, the mosaic ceiling of the bath chamber dazzled him with intricate colours. His arms spread out on the ledge of the pool, holding him at chin level in the water. As he floated, sleep crept ever closer. He watched his toes break the surface then sink back down. The hair on his body moved like in a breeze. Alone in the vast chamber, Lukien heard the slow ebb and flow of his breath and, if he listened closely, the calm rhythm of his heart.

Time did a wonderful disappearing act here in the baths. It had been morning when Lukien had entered, but he was no longer sure the sun was even up anymore. On the stone floor behind his head, the Sword of Angels lay on the moist surface, strangely impervious to getting wet. Though the weapon still sat near him, Lukien could barely sense Malator in his mind, the Akari having backed off. It was a small gift but Lukien was grateful for it, and had in fact enjoyed it for a week now. Since returning to Jador he had spent most of his time alone, with little contact with anyone, including Malator. He had done too much over the last year, traveling too many miles and watching friends die. Lukien never wanted to think again. All he wanted now was to drift away, high up to the colourful ceiling like the mist.

Today, however, a visitor interrupted his bathing. From time to time Jadori soldiers would enter the chamber, sliding down silently at the other end of the pool. On occasion, mothers brought their children to the baths as well, laughing while the naked babes were carried through the water, splashing and giggling. Lukien enjoyed the solitude but never expected it, and in fact he liked when others joined him in the baths, even when he never said a word to them. Lukien simply wanted to relax. And not to talk at all.

Still, it did not surprise him when Gilwyn entered the chamber. He heard the boy before he saw him, the distinctive clip-clop of his special boot dragging on the echoing stones. As Gilwyn turned the corner he peered into the pool chamber through the mists, seeing Lukien floating in the water. Lukien’s eye widened a little. Was he glad to see Gilwyn? He didn’t know, though he supposed the time had come to tell of his decision.

‘Don’t just stand there gawking,’ he told his friend.

Gilwyn made a face before stepping around the corner. ‘You looked like you were sleeping.’

Lukien’s eye widened as he saw what Gilwyn was wearing. Not at all ready for the baths, Gilwyn sported his usual shirt and trousers, his special boot buckled up the length of his calf. ‘If you try swimming like that you’ll sink like a rock.’

Gilwyn smiled a little sheepishly, making his way across the edge of the pool. The way was narrow where Lukien floated, and Gilwyn was careful to keep his balance on the slick stone. Lukien watched, ready to help the boy if he needed it but Gilwyn did not, finally coming to a stop near Lukien’s sword.

‘I can’t see you if you stand behind me,’ said Lukien. ‘Take your shoes off at least. Dip your feet in the water; that’s what Minikin does.’

‘No, thanks,’ said Gilwyn. It was obvious there were things on his mind. ‘I didn’t come for a bath.’

‘Still, I prefer you didn’t stand there. Sit at least. Get comfortable.’

It was an effort for Gilwyn to sit himself down, but he found a spot that wasn’t too damp over Lukien’s left shoulder. He lowered himself to the stones, using his good hand for support. Then he looked around, admiring the chamber. They had the entire place to themselves.

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ Lukien confessed. ‘I should have talked to you sooner. I’m sorry. I’ve had some things I needed to consider.’

‘I know,’ said Gilwyn. ‘I could leave if you like.’

‘No.’ Lukien tilted his head back and smiled at him. ‘We should talk. But first, tell me — how are things with White-Eye?’

Gilwyn got that dreamy look. ‘Perfect.’

Lukien laughed. ‘That’s it?’

‘What else is there? She’s perfect. I’m happy, Lukien.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’ Lukien enjoyed teasing him, but when he noticed the amulet beneath Gilwyn’s shirt he got serious. ‘And what about that?’ he asked, gesturing with his chin. ‘Any problems?’

‘No. Not yet anyway.’

‘It’s a big adjustment, Gilwyn. Maybe you’re not telling me the truth, huh?’

The boy looked frightened. ‘Maybe. But what can I do? If I take it off I die, right?’

‘That’s right. But are you ready to live forever?’

‘Is anybody?’

There was silence between them, awkward enough to make Gilwyn change the subject. He said, ‘I dreamt about Thorin last night.’

Lukien sank deeper into the water. ‘I dream about him sometimes.’

‘He’s alive somewhere,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Maybe he’s talking to us.’

‘I’m not sure I like that idea.’

‘Why not? It means he’s free.’

‘Yes.’ The thought made Lukien happy. ‘Free.’ Behind him, he sensed the Sword of Angels. He knew, too, that Gilwyn was staring at it. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Ask your question.’

Gilwyn hesitated. ‘I just. . I wanted to know what your plans are. I mean if you’ve decided yet. If you haven’t. .’

‘No,’ said Lukien. ‘I’ve decided.’ He didn’t turn to face his friend. ‘I can’t stay here, Gilwyn. I’m going.’

The silence between them rose up again. Lukien could feel Gilwyn’s twisted expression.

‘It’s what I have to do,’ he hurried to add. ‘I’m going to Tharlara.’

A great sigh rushed out of Gilwyn. ‘To the Story Garden.’

‘That’s right.’ Lukien hesitated. ‘I know what I said, but. .’ he stopped himself, unsure how much to tell.

‘You can live with the sword,’ said Gilwyn. ‘And still see Cassandra again.’

‘Yes. Yes, that’s right.’

‘I’m happy,’ said Gilwyn. He shifted a little closer. ‘I was afraid for you.’

Lukien still could not look at him. ‘Well, that’s all right then,’ he said. ‘I’m just going to Tharlara. I’ll be all right.’

‘Right,’ Gilwyn chirped. ‘If you keep the sword you can go on, just like me. I know how much you miss Cassandra, but you don’t have to die for her. You can still be with her this way. It’s like she’s still alive.’

‘She is alive,’ Lukien reminded him. ‘And she’s waiting for me. In Tharlara.’

Gilwyn leaned down. ‘Lukien?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m going to miss you.’

Looking at Gilwyn before had been difficult, but now it was impossible. A lump rose in Lukien’s throat. ‘I’m going to miss you too, Gilwyn. I’m going to miss everything about this place.’

‘But you can come back someday,’ said Gilwyn.

Lukien nodded. ‘Yes. I can come back.’

Gilwyn’s face flushed with hope. He had never known his own father, but often he looked at Lukien the way a son might. Or a wise big-brother. It had been so easy for Lukien to lie and spare his feelings. Gilwyn started to his feet again, careful not to slip on the damp stones.

‘I’ll leave you alone now and let you think,’ he said. ‘Maybe we can all eat together tonight?’

Lukien, floating, nodded slowly. ‘All right.’

But as Gilwyn turned to go he stood up quickly, splashing the water around him. ‘Gilwyn, wait. .’

Gilwyn stopped. ‘Yes?’

Standing naked in the pool, Lukien stared at Gilwyn, searching for words. Gilwyn’s hopeful glow disippated.

‘What is it, Lukien?’

Perched on the very ledge of the truth, Lukien could not stop himself from tumbling over. ‘I’m not going to Tharlara,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, but I lied to you.’

Gilwyn inched closer with concern. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m going somewhere else, Gilwyn, but I can’t do it alone.’ Lukien looked pleadingly at his young friend. ‘I need your help.’