As he crept up the road, his hope was rewarded. There they were, all of them, pulled off on the side of the road, waiting. Lorn stepped out from the bend and stared in happy shock. Atop the wagon, Eiriann was first to notice him.
‘Lorn!’ she called.
Every head turned at her cry. Lorn hurried toward them. Eiriann, holding the baby as always, got down from the wagon and went to him, followed close behind by her father, then Bezarak and the others.
‘You waited?’ asked Lorn. ‘I told you to go on to Ganjor.’
‘Yes, you told me,’ said Eiriann. ‘But I knew you’d make it out.’ Her smile, like her faith in him, seemed boundless. She handed him Poppy, who cooed at his familiar touch. ‘Remember what I told you? You belong with us, Lorn.’
‘Aye,’ agreed Majis. ‘We knew you’d make it out.’
Lorn’s expression grew stormy. ‘I should be angry with you. You took a great risk.’
Eiriann gave him a wicked smile. ‘Well, we could leave you here if you prefer, or we can all go to Ganjor. What say you, King Lorn?’
None of them expected his thanks. It was not his way and they knew it. So instead Lorn reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold coins he’d stolen from Erlik. Showing them to the Believers, he said, ‘I say we ride for Ganjor. And this time when we get there we won’t have to beg for help.’
28
For two days and nights, Gilwyn travelled east across the desert with only Emerald and the enigmatic Ghost for company. He had enough supplies for the journey and had promised Minikin he would return — unharmed — with as many kreels as he could manage. It had been a bold promise, and often during his trip Gilwyn wondered how he would keep it. The valley of the kreels was little known to him, and despite the tutoring of friendly Jadori warriors he didn’t really know what to expect there. He would find kreels there; that he knew for certain. Hour by hour, as he drew closer, he could feel them ever stronger in his mind. Better than any compass or map, the powerful sense of their reptilian lives directed him across the desert.
His companion offered little company. Gilwyn had never really liked Ghost, not since their first meeting during the Liirian war. The albino was everything Gilwyn was not — brash and arrogant and skilled in battle — and after two days of travelling Gilwyn simply decided they had little to talk about. Mostly, he had agreed to Ghost’s presence to appease Minikin, who had insisted he take a bodyguard on the trip. It annoyed Gilwyn that no one thought he could take care of himself, even with Emerald’s help, but in the end he was grateful for Ghost’s meagre companionship.
All that second day the pair rode quietly, Gilwyn atop Emerald, Ghost riding an ugly, single-humped drowa. The drowa were the horses of the desert, and like the kreels they were capable of going great distances without water. They had no beauty at all and the plainness of his mount seemed to irritate Ghost, who was an accomplished horseman. The drowa, however, did an excellent job of keeping up with Emerald, a feat Ghost grudgingly admitted when at last they bedded down for the night. Ghost made the fire while Gilwyn unrolled their bedding and broke out some food. Their rations were simple but Gilwyn was famished and looked forward to eating. They had made great progress through the day, and both men were pleased. As Ghost blew on the tiny embers, coaxing up a fire fit for cooking, Gilwyn dropped down next to him, holding a pan filled with bacon in his good hand. Ghost saw the food and smiled, taking a whiff of the uncooked meat.
‘Not long now,’ he predicted, ‘and I can eat all of it myself.’
‘There’s enough still,’ said Gilwyn. ‘We’ve been good about making it last.’
Ghost fanned the growing flames, carefully waving his hand over them. Now that the sun was down he had lowered his heavy garb, revealing his strangely handsome face. Gilwyn watched him curiously. Sometime tomorrow they would reach the valley, and he still hadn’t really gotten to know the Inhuman. Ghost pretended not to see Gilwyn staring at him. He cocked his chin toward Emerald.
‘She’s hungry, too,’ he told Gilwyn. ‘She needs to hunt.’
Gilwyn turned his mind toward Emerald, feeling her hunger like a sharp pain. Without him to slow her down, she could hunt her own meal among the snakes and rodents of the desert.
Go on, girl, he told her, not bothering to speak.
Her grateful response came to him across the distance. Then she was gone, slipping quickly away and vanishing into the night. He could hear her claws padding through the sand, but only for a moment. A second later he heard nothing at all. If he concentrated, he could feel her still. But he let the link with her fade as he turned his attention back to the fire. Ghost was talking about bread.
‘I still have some in my packs. We should eat it now, before it gets too old.’
He got up and let Gilwyn start cooking the bacon while he rummaged through his bags. The drowa sat watching him with big, bored eyes. He’d feed the beast later, Gilwyn knew, but not before he fed himself. Ghost returned with the bread he had saved and a leather bag of plump dates, a staple among desert travellers. Unable to hold the pan and grab a date at the same time, Gilwyn opened his mouth so Ghost could toss one in.
‘Thanks,’ he said, chewing and shuffling the pan. Already it smelled wonderful. Ghost leaned back on his elbow, patiently eating dates while watching Gilwyn cook. He remained quiet for a long time. Then, finally, he spoke.
‘We’ll be in the valley tomorrow. By noon, I’d say.’
Gilwyn nodded. ‘Yes. I can feel the kreels. We’re very near now.’
‘You can feel them.’ Ghost shook his head. ‘That’s weird.’
‘No weirder than making yourself disappear, I’d say.’ Gilwyn chuckled. ‘To tell the truth, I think you’re the odd one, friend.’
Ghost tossed a date high into the air, catching it on his tongue. ‘Sure you do.’ He chewed a moment then swallowed hard. ‘That’s what everyone thinks.’
‘I didn’t mean offence. .’
‘No, nobody means offence. I know that. In Grimhold everyone looks odd, yet they stare at me because they’ve never seen a person with my colouring. Think about that, Gilwyn Toms — here’s a place where half the people are blind or hunchbacked, yet they stare at me.’ Ghost laughed good-naturedly, covering his anger. ‘Am I offended, though? No. So go ahead and stare. Get a good look.’
Gilwyn felt his face beginning to redden. ‘I stare because you’re interesting-looking. I never saw an albino before, and neither have a lot of the other Inhumans.’
‘Interesting-looking? That just sounds like another word for ugly.’
‘No, that’s not what I mean at all.’ Gilwyn gave the bacon an expert toss. ‘You’re striking, that’s what I mean. Some of the other Inhumans are hard to look at, I admit. But not you. You’re. .’ He smiled. ‘Interesting.’
‘Ah, now if only the fondness of a young man made my heart race!’ joked Ghost. ‘Unfortunately I like girls. And there’s not too many of them who want a white-skinned freak for a suitor, especially not the girls in the village.’
‘They don’t know you. Here, bring those plates over. .’
Ghost did as asked, extending two dull metal plates they had brought with them from Jador. Gilwyn slid some bacon onto one, then the other, then set his pan down into the sand beside the fire. The pan hissed as it seared the earth.
‘You hide behind those wraps all day,’ Gilwyn continued. He settled back, picking up a stout chunk of bacon with his fingers. ‘You need to let people see you.’
‘I have to cover myself,’ said Ghost. ‘And if you’re going to be nasty I won’t share my dates with you.’
‘Spend some time in the village at night, then, when you can be more yourself. Let the girls get to know you. If you did, they’d like you.’
‘You’ve been learning at the knee of Lukien, eh? He has a way with the women, too. Looks like his talent is rubbing off on you.’