More so than you think, thought Lorn. He said, ‘I cannot stay in Norvor. Now ask me no more questions.’
Gedena nodded and went to the open doors. Immediately she wrapped her arms around herself again. ‘It’s a cold night.’ She turned and frowned at Poppy. ‘Too cold for you to be riding with that child. Fate above, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should stay here until morning. Give that child some rest.’
The offer stunned Lorn. ‘You’re asking me to sleep here?’
‘Unless you’re willing to leave the child. .’
‘No,’ said Lorn.
Gedena smirked. ‘I didn’t think so. You can spend the night out here. I have blankets and a lamp for you. But let me bring the baby inside. She’ll be better off for it.’
‘I can look after my daughter well enough, thank you.’
‘No, you cannot. You had no milk or proper food for the child, and now you want to ride off with her in the darkness. Why are men such fools? Give me the child.’ She held out her hands. Lorn’s expression soured. She said, ‘Come, hand her here. In the morning you can take her back. Ride off to whatever god-cursed country you want, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least for tonight let the girl have some comfort.’
It was all logical, and Lorn was too tired to argue. ‘Very well,’ he relented, and handed the child to Gedena. ‘What is it about women?’ he muttered. ‘You suckle a babe once and you act like it’s your own.’
‘We’re all mad, don’t you know that? Isn’t that what you southerners say?’
‘Not just southerners, madam.’
Gedena adjusted the swaddling around Poppy. ‘Will you at least tell me the child’s name?’
Lorn shook his head. ‘No. Take care of my daughter. See that she gets a good night’s sleep.’
‘I’ll bring in those blankets and lamp,’ replied Gedena. She paused a moment to frown at Lorn. ‘You are wrong about my husband, you know. He is a good man. Not like you.’
‘Then you’ll be glad to be rid of me,’ said Lorn. ‘Just remember what I said — keep my daughter safe.’
Gedena turned without answering him and went back to her house. Lorn watched her the entire time, until she disappeared inside. He supposed he had done the right thing, but he still wasn’t certain. Poppy needed a warm place to sleep, that much was true. And this place seemed safe enough. He went back into the stable and laid himself down on the hay. He was wretchedly tired, and when he remembered his horse left outside he cursed.
‘Oh, damn it. .’
He decided to rest just a moment before bringing the beast inside. Exhaustion quickly overtook him, though, and he was asleep before Gedena returned with the blankets.
4
The heat of the desert made the horizon shimmer. An ever-present breeze whispered on the air. Up in its orange cradle, the merciless sun, god of this world, burned the sky.
Lukien of Liiria looked out across the dunes, across what looked to be an endless sea of sand, squinting with his one eye against the mirages rising from the earth. From where he sat upon his horse it seemed the Desert of Tears was all there was, and all that had ever been. No longer could he see Jador or its splendid spires, nor sprawling, menacing Ganjor. There was only sand, forever shifting, devouring itself. Lukien unwrapped the gaka from around his face. He had never gotten used to the heavy desert clothes. He drew a hand across his forehead and wiped away a slick of sweat. The relentless sun blinded him.
‘I see nothing,’ he said to his companions. ‘You?’
Beside him, Gilwyn Toms sat upon his kreel, a small female of the species he had named Emerald. Like all of them, Gilwyn wore a gaka to stave off the sun. The scales of his reptilian mount riffled anxiously through colours as she and her rider scanned the horizon.
‘Nothing,’ replied Gilwyn. He turned toward the men they’d brought with them, five Jadori warriors who had become their friends, and a single Inhuman from Grimhold wrapped completely in robes so that every inch of his skin was covered. The dark-coloured Jadori were used to the desert sun and so did not hide themselves behind gakas as completely as the northerners did. Each of them watched the distant dunes. Together they had ridden a long way from Jador, hurrying out into the desert once news had reached them of the Seekers. It had gone on like this for months now, ever since word had escaped of Grimhold’s existence. So far, though, they hadn’t found the Seekers Princess Salina had warned them about.
‘We should go on,’ said the one from Grimhold. He was an albino named Ghost, and like many from his fabled home his abilities were remarkable. Because of this he had remained in Jador with Gilwyn, helping to protect the desert city. The same was true for Lukien. In a prior life he had been the Bronze Knight, and there were those who called him that still. But in Jador he had taken on a Jadori name — Shalafein, the Great Protector. Around his neck he wore the Eye of God. He could feel it now beneath his robes, pulsing lightly, its silent spirit keeping him alive. He belonged to Grimhold now, despite a life spent in Liiria. And because of the amulet, he was as much an Inhuman as Ghost.
‘Maybe it’s too late,’ remarked Gilwyn. ‘Maybe the raiders have gotten them.’
It was the same dark conclusion they’d all come to, though Lukien hated to admit it. Riding out from Jador in a panicked rush was no way to save people, and they had already lost countless Seekers to the raiders. They were a vicious lot, Aztar’s men, willing to murder anyone they robbed, even children. It was why Lukien always tried so hard to save them, and why he always grieved when he couldn’t.
In the last few months the Seekers had come across the desert in waves. It had been as Minikin had predicted. Once word reached the outside world of Grimhold’s existence, it had been impossible to stop them. No matter their ailments, the Seekers willingly braved the desert, seeking the magical place of healing. The blind and insane, the crippled, the deaf; they had all left their homes behind to find the place some of them called ‘Mount Believer’. It broke Lukien’s heart to see them. Like he and Gilwyn and their comrade Baron Glass, the Seekers were northerners, mostly. Some were even Liirians. But none had known the truth of Grimhold, or that Minikin, the mistress of that place, had not enough magic to save them. They knew only of the legend, and their desperate hope drove them onward.
‘We go on,’ said Lukien. ‘We must find them.’
Gilwyn didn’t argue. ‘We should separate,’ he suggested. ‘We can cover more area that way.’
‘And if we run into raiders?’ The smirk behind Ghost’s gaka was almost audible. ‘What then?’
‘We have to find the Seekers,’ said Gilwyn. ‘If we don’t they’ll die.’
‘If they’re not dead already,’ countered Ghost. He was as frustrated as the rest of them, partly because there were so few Jadori kreel riders to help them. So many had died in the war against Liiria, both men and their mounts. That was a year ago, and still the Jadori had not been able to train enough of the slow-maturing beasts. But Ghost was no coward, Lukien knew; the albino had volunteered for this mission.
‘Gilwyn’s right,’ said Lukien. ‘We can part here and cover more ground. If we don’t find them in an hour we can head back. If we find raiders-’
Lukien had no chance to finish his sentence. Behind him, one of his sharp-eyed Jadori companions gave a shout, pointing ahead to a dune. The Bronze Knight looked hard, spotting movement in a distant valley of sand.
‘Is that them?’ he asked. ‘I can’t tell.’
The Jadori warriors swarmed forward, their reptilian mounts sensing their need. The keen eyes of the kreels could see far better than those of their human riders, and once they had sighted the movement in the valley they shot the image into the minds of their masters.
‘Seekers,’ said Kamar. He spoke no Liirian but the word was the same to the Jadori. Kamar nodded to himself, not really looking but seeing the travellers through the eyes of his kreel. His Jadori companions did the same, as did Gilwyn.