‘But I can. You love the stars — I’m going to show them to you.’
He felt her tremble in his grasp. Her expression tightened. ‘You will show me them?’
‘That’s right. I’ll tell you everything I see.’
White-Eye’s eyes — just milk-white orbs — filled with emotion. Her smooth hands gripped him tighter.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You can do that.’
One slow step at a time, they made their way together toward the rooftop.
46
Gilwyn spent the entire night by White-Eye’s bedside to protect her from dreaming. White-Eye slept deeply, at last succumbing to the exhaustion of her ordeal. They had spent an hour on the rooftop before she had finally heard her fill of his voice, telling her about the constellations and the way the sand dunes shifted like giant ghosts in the moonlight. The time alone together had been marvellous, even helpful. Gilwyn was sure it had lifted White-Eye’s spirits. By the time they had returned to her chamber Minikin had made good on her promise to bring them food, but White-Eye had gone to sleep without touching it, leaving Gilwyn to eat alone while he watched her drift off. He was her guardian, he decided, not just her regent.
Gilwyn himself did not sleep. Instead he spent the night considering great and difficult questions that had no answers. The injustice of what had happened plagued him. He wondered how someone so innocent could fall prey to such evil, when there was so much magic about to protect her. He wondered why he had ignored all her requests to come to Grimhold, choosing instead to toil over Jador’s rebuilding, as though his efforts made any difference at all. Mostly, though, he wondered about Kahldris, and what could be done about his tremendous power, a power that could reach across a continent, seemingly with ease, and destroy someone he loved. White-Eye would not soon be whole, he knew. If she could not have another Akari — another injustice Gilwyn could not comprehend — then she was truly doomed to darkness. No amount of storytelling or attention could change that.
There were no windows in the chamber, but somehow Gilwyn knew when it was dawn. As if cued by a rooster, Alena came to the chamber to check on them both. She opened the door cautiously and peered inside, smiling when she saw White-Eye asleep. Gilwyn looked up to greet her.
‘Gilwyn, come away now,’ she whispered. ‘Get some proper rest.’
‘Is it daylight?’ he asked.
‘Yes, just now,’ said Alena. ‘I’ve made up your room and left some tea for you. Come, I’ll stay with White-Eye.’
The offer sounded lovely, but Gilwyn had other things in mind. ‘Have you seen Minikin?’ he asked, going to the door.
‘Minikin will be in soon to check on White-Eye. Do not worry — just get some sleep.’
Gilwyn agreed, thanking Alena for her help, and left the chamber. His own room — the one he used when in Grimhold — was not far from White-Eye’s, yet he went in the opposite direction, toward the front of the keep where he might find Minikin. Many times he had seen the little woman starting her day by Grimhold’s gate, like a sentry checking on the security of her castle. She would stop and talk with Greygor for a while — though the big man rarely spoke — before getting on with her day’s business. Gilwyn knew that Minikin had been just as shattered as he was by White-Eye’s maiming, and after her encounter with Prince Aztar’s men she was already teetering on a razor’s edge. He had seen in her grey eyes what this new horror had done to her. He wondered dreadfully how the mistress would react to his decision.
It took some searching, because Minikin was not at the gate as he’d hoped, nor was she in Grimhold’s main hall. The keep was quiet, but Gilwyn knew that it took a lot of work to keep the place functioning, and that the scullery would be filled with people preparing food for the long day. After some enquires, Akuin the bread-maker told him he’d seen Minikin just a few minutes before.
‘She took some biscuits with her, but I don’t know where she went,’ said Akuin. ‘Sorry.’
The trail led Gilwyn back to the main hall, where surprisingly it was one of Greygor’s companions that told him Minikin had just been back. The young man pointed toward the keep’s open gate.
‘She went out,’ he told Gilwyn. ‘With Trog.’
Wherever Minikin went, Trog was sure to follow. But why go outside, Gilwyn wondered. The front of the keep was not nearly as hospitable as the rooftops or the village. There was nothing but rocks and ledges out front, all doing a good job of hiding Grimhold from intruders. Nevertheless, Gilwyn went out of the gate and looked around. The rugged mountains looked beautiful in the morning, the sun coming up behind them, polishing their peaks with light. Then, in the distance, Gilwyn saw Minikin. As he’d been told, Trog was with her. Together they were walking up a jagged hillside, Minikin lifting her long coat so as not to stumble over it.
‘Minikin!’ Gilwyn called. He went to her as quickly as he could with his lame foot, waving to get her attention. She turned and saw him, but did not wave back. ‘Wait, I need to talk with you,’ he cried.
Minikin waited at the base of the hill. The great, brooding giant regarded Gilwyn dangerously, not at all liking the interruption. In his hands was a small burlap sack, presumably with the food Akuin had given them.
‘Where are you going?’ Gilwyn asked.
‘Gilwyn, how is White-Eye?’ Minikin queried. ‘Is she unwell?’
‘No, she’s all right. Alena is with her. I just left them.’
‘You look awful, child,’ said the little woman. ‘You should rest.’
‘I will, but I have to speak to you.’ Gilwyn surveyed their harsh surroundings. ‘Why are you out here?’
Minikin looked evasive. ‘I needed a place to think. I have much on my mind, and there is a good place for thinking up there.’ She gestured up the hillside. ‘A place Meriel showed me.’
The odd answer confused Gilwyn. ‘So early? It’s barely past dawn, Minikin.’
‘The best time to think, before the day takes over. Perhaps I should go see White-Eye. .?’
‘No, she’s fine,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Minikin, can we talk?’
The lady’s elvish ears perked up. ‘You worry me, Gilwyn. What is this about? No, wait. . come with us. We can talk up there.’
It was a strange request, but Gilwyn was game to try. Then he remembered his bad foot. So too did Minikin.
‘Trog, help him, please,’ she asked the giant.
Gilwyn backed away. ‘No, that’s all right. I-’
Ignoring him, Trog handed him the sack of food, then scooped him up in his enormous arms. The sensation sent the blood rushing to Gilwyn’s head.
‘Easy!’ he cried.
Minikin laughed, told him to stop being such a child, then proceeded up the hillside. Trog followed her, picking his way up the rocks with his huge feet. Surprisingly, the big man was as sure-footed as a goat as he traversed the stony path. Gilwyn felt like a baby in his arms.
‘It’s not too far,’ Minikin assured them, carefully winding through the gorge. ‘It has a pretty view, Gilwyn. You’ll like it.’
‘Minikin! Trog, put me down!’
‘Don’t put him down, Trog,’ ordered the mistress. ‘He wanted to come with us, remember.’
‘I wanted to talk,’ Gilwyn protested.
‘Hush, boy. We are there, almost.’
Squirming did no good, so Gilwyn settled in for the unpleasant ride. Eventually, when Trog had gone much farther than he’d hoped, he saw the sky again, opening up over a rocky ledge. Minikin stopped in the centre of it, beaming from their climb. Trog at last put Gilwyn down.
‘Here,’ Minikin pronounced. ‘A good morning.’
Gilwyn handed her the sack angrily. ‘This is yours, I think.’
Minikin took the bag and looked inside. Smiling, she took out a biscuit and offered it to him.
‘I’m not hungry, Minikin. I just wanted to talk to you.’
‘Yes, you wanted to talk,’ she said, almost annoyed. ‘About White-Eye, no doubt, and what happened to her. That is what I came up here to think about, Gilwyn. You’re not the only one troubled.’