‘Let me finish up here,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll go see Minikin.’
At midnight exactly, Minikin ascended the white wall.
The wall itself had not been built for war. It was much more an embellishment than a defence, and as such there were few places along its length for anyone to climb and get a look at the city. In the time before the coming of the northerners, the wall was erected simply as a thing of beauty. But the war with Akeela had changed all that, and in the year since, the hastily built battlements along the wall had remained, marring its beauty but affording Jador’s defenders a good view of the desert beyond the outskirts. Tonight, Jador was crammed with people, all of whom looked to Minikin for reassurance. In the days since Princess Salina’s warning had arrived, Minikin had mobilised the people of Jador both within and outside the wall, and now they stood ready to defend their home. But their faces were tight and full of fear, and as they watched the little mistress climb the wall they kept their eyes skyward.
Minikin said nothing as she made her way up the white stone stairway. Above her, Jadori archers manned the tower, the only real defensive structure in the city. The tower guarded the gate and the gate was swelled with people now. Moments ago their chatter filled the night, but when they noticed Minikin a hush fell quickly over them. Dark-skinned Jadori men unwrapped their gakas to see her, and northerners from every continental country looked up in awe. Her Inhumans had come, too, in good number. They had left the safety of Grimhold to stand beside the people of Jador and offer their unique gifts. Minikin, in her long, coloured coat and with long white hair, felt the power of their thoughts. Against her chest the amulet that gave her strength blazed madly as Lariniza encouraged her up the stairs. She had spent hours in prayer with Lariniza, pulling together the plans for this great struggle, begging the Akari for guidance in the absence of her brother Amaraz.
And Lariniza had listened to her prayers. Together, their plans were laid.
At the top of the stairway, Minikin paused a moment to look out over the crowd. They had swamped the main thoroughfare around the gate. Over her shoulder, the fires of Aztar’s army twinkled across the desert, a deadly reminder of the dreaded morn. Minikin looked down at her people — her beloved Inhumans, her cherished Jadori, even the Seekers who had come to call the city home. Her hands shook. She was not accustomed to leading battles, and wished mightily for Kadar’s company. A year ago, he had rallied the city against Akeela. But the old kahan had died in that battle. Now his mantle fell to Minikin.
The crowd fell silent. Looking up at her, she saw reverence in their eyes. At the base of the wall stood Gilwyn. The young regent of Jador was flanked by Kamar, the fine warrior who had so much on his back now. Ghost was near him too, his albino face eager and shining. Among them stood ranks of Jadori men, who could not speak the tongue of her native land but who — through the power of her amulet — would hear her translated words in their ears. Behind the Jadori men stood the Inhumans, a hundred of them able-bodied enough to fight. With their Akari spirits and the gifts bestowed them, they would help Minikin defeat the desert horde. The Seekers — hundreds of them — stood apart from the Jadori and Inhumans. Many of them women and children, they waited for Minikin’s words. Some had never seen the Mistress of Grimhold, and so let their jaws hang open in awe. Mingled with them were the folk of Jador, those who were not warriors but who had nevertheless vowed to fight if the Voruni breached their city.
Amid these mingled faces, one figure stood apart from the crowd, one enormous man casting his shadow against the emptiness around him. Greygor, the giant guardian of Grimhold’s gate, had come with the other Inhumans to Jador, the first time in years he had been away from the keep. A lifetime ago, Greygor had been a Ganjeese man, and beneath his heavy armour he was that still, but he was an Inhuman now, his broken bones held together by Akari magic. Of all those who would fight tomorrow, Greygor was surely their greatest weapon. Like Minikin’s bodyguard Trog, Greygor stood eight feet tall in his heavy boots, his intimidating width enhanced by iron spikes across his shoulders. His meaty hand rested on a battle axe as he looked up at Minikin through the eyeslits in his helmet. Their minds touched. For all the loyalty she felt in him, Minikin feared she would weep.
But she did not weep. She pulled her expression together, making it like steel. At the edge of the wall she swept out her arms, as if to embrace those who had assembled for her, and beamed a confident smile over them.
‘Friends. .’
Her coat hanging open, the Eye of God glowed at her chest. She felt Lariniza pouring over the wall, touching the mind of every foreign speaker and making her words comprehensible.
‘You have gathered with me on a dreadful eve,’ she said, ‘to see a morning I had hoped would never come again. A year ago we fought together, defending this very spot against invaders who defiled us, who raped this fine city without regard. And now, another dragon comes to devour us.’
She paused as her words took hold. The many faces looking up at her nodded. Among them stood Gilwyn, biting his lip and listening in earnest. Their eyes met briefly.
‘The enemies at our gate are no less determined this time,’ Minikin continued. ‘They hate us for what we are — a free haven. Look around and see the faces of those nearest you, and you’ll see what they hate and fear. We are no two alike. We do not all pledge ourselves to the same god or flag. Jador has become a beacon to the world, and because of that the Voruni want us dead.’ Minikin held her breath a moment, then said, ‘But they will not succeed.’
Her proclamation broke her audience’s silence, and every voice rose in a cheer. The crowd’s defiant music rose up over the wall, spilling over Minikin, giving her strength.
‘Yes!’ she cried, pointing toward the desert. ‘Let them hear you! Let Aztar and his men know the stuff we are made of!’
She let the gathered howl in defiance, cursing their enemies in the desert and building up their own courage. After a moment she held up a hand to silence them again.
‘None of us wanted this, I know,’ she said. She was gentle suddenly, feeling the pain of her own heart. ‘You Seekers most of all. You came here for a life better than the lives you left behind. But war has a way of following even the best of us.’
Again she paused, considering her words. It was true that the haven she had built had been cracked open like an eggshell. Once Grimhold had only been a legend, and Jador its quiet, peaceable defender. That was over now, and it saddened her.
‘In the morning we will fight,’ she went on. ‘And I will not lie to you — many will quite probably die. But you will know why you die, and for what good cause. I see it in your faces.’ She grasped the amulet with her tiny fingers. ‘I feel it in your minds.’ She closed her eyes and smiled, sensing the great warmth of their commitment. ‘Ah, it is like a wave! And it can never be stopped, not by any prince or tyrant. Jador will go on.’
The crowed raised their hands, defying Aztar and his horde. In the farthest ranks even the Jadori children shouted, though Minikin knew they did not understand or fathom the true fate that might befall them. Her dark eyes lingered on them. They were the most innocent of the crowd, born without say into the centre of this cauldron.
Oh, help me, Lariniza, she pleaded, looking out over the crowd and hiding her lament from her fellow Inhumans. Don’t let this happen. .
Lariniza’s reply was gentle as summer rain. Minikin, I am with you. We will stop this together, as we have planned.
Minikin nodded, though the prospect grieved her. If we must.
If we must.
Like her brother Amaraz, there was steel in Lariniza. She would not let Grimhold be destroyed, no matter the cost. Minikin struggled to smile at her gathered people.