The windless air carried them for what seemed a long time. At last the mists lifted to reveal a foreign shore. Gilwyn sat up and peered across the lake. In the distance was a city, quiet yet alive with activity, with tall buildings twisting skyward and aqueducts rushing with water. Amazingly, he could see people in the streets, busy with commerce, dressed as Ruana was dressed in fine linens and golden jewellery. He could not hear them and he could not imagine why he could see them so clearly when they were so far away, yet Gilwyn knew he was in the midst of magic and so he did not question it. He counted the spires of the many constructs — one. . two. . a hundred. . a thousand — as if there were no end to them, as if the city and its beautiful people stretched out ceaselessly across the world.
‘Kaliatha,’ said Ruana suddenly.
‘Kaliatha,’ Gilwyn mimed. ‘The city of the Akari.’
He knew it without knowing how. As the boat skimmed across the lake, he leaned forward for a better look at Ruana’s dead city.
‘This is how it was,’ she explained. ‘How it remains for some of us. So beautiful and eternal.’
Gilwyn wanted to know what the city looked like now, in his time and world, but he couldn’t ask that of Ruana, for she seemed enamoured with her city as though it were her lover. Yet Ruana read Gilwyn’s thought and flicked her eyes toward him.
‘It is a ruin now, Gilwyn. In your world, Kaliatha is overrun with sand and vermin. If you wish, I can show you that.’ Then Ruana paused in thought. ‘No, I will show you something else.’
The mists that had veiled the city returned, blocking Kaliatha from their view once again. Disappointed, Gilwyn sank back as the little boat continued its aimless journey. He wondered if he had offended the Akari woman. There was no smile on her face or the smallest hint to betray her thoughts. Then, the glamour that parted the mists returned, once again bringing forth the shore. And once again the shore had changed. This time Gilwyn looked off into a vast valley, full of dust and sand and hemmed in by rugged mountains. For the first time since embarking on the boat he heard sounds, like thunder. They were the sounds of battle, and the combatants filled the valley. Men on horses and men on kreels, men in armour and men in the flowing garb of Jadori warriors, clashing with blood-gushing force on the field. Horrified, Gilwyn rose to his feet, staring out into the carnage, almost soaring over it with a bird’s-eye view. Bodies and blood and broken lances littered the valley. Screams and war whoops split the sky. The mountains shook with violence. And all the while Ruana sat back, mildly horrified, her face drawn but reserved, witnessing the death of her people as though it were a play.
‘Enough,’ said Gilwyn, turning away. ‘Bring back the mists, Ruana. I don’t want to see any more.’
The boat didn’t move, but the fog returned to curtain the bloodbath. Gilwyn sat down across from Ruana and stared at her in anger.
‘Why did you show me that?’
‘Because you wanted to see it,’ replied Ruana. ‘You claimed otherwise but that was a lie. You wanted to see what the Jadori did to the Akari because you could not believe it. But now you believe, I think.’
Her words rattled Gilwyn. ‘Ruana, if this is how it will be between us. .’
‘I told you, this is your time of knowledge. You must learn about me as I have learned about you. Otherwise I will never be able to aid the gift in you.’
Suddenly Gilwyn understood. His eyes narrowed on Ruana. ‘You showed me that battle because of what could happen to the Jadori, is that it? If I don’t use my gift they could be slaughtered. Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Yes,’ said Ruana bluntly. ‘But you will use your gift, because you love the Jadori and the one called White-Eye, and because you cannot bear to see them slaughtered as they slaughtered my people.’
‘But can I? Can I really do it?’ Gilwyn sighed miserably, feeling as oppressed and grey as the fog. ‘I’m no leader, Ruana. If you know me at all you already know that about me.’
‘Minikin has set a great task at your feet. To say otherwise would be untrue. But she is very wise. She sees the gift in you, and has chosen me to nurture it. And I shall, with your help.’
‘Gift,’ scoffed Gilwyn. ‘Why? Because my best friend was a monkey? I’m a librarian, Ruana! I can’t even walk without this damn boot, unless I’m here in this weird world of yours. What makes any of you think I can do this? If you want a hero, you should send Lukien to the valley of kreels.’
‘Brooding.’ Ruana shook her head. ‘A bad trait of yours. Do you not believe that I can help you? Have I not shown you miracles today? Yet still you don’t trust me. So now I must show you one more miracle.’
‘Gods, no more battlefields, please.’
‘Close your eyes, Gilwyn,’ Ruana commanded.
‘What?’
‘Do as I say.’
So Gilwyn did so, shutting out the sight of her. ‘What now?’
‘Now listen to me. You are very powerful, but your powers are just below the surface waiting for you to discover them. You will never discover them unless you believe.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You are very close to Teku, yes?’
‘Of course. You know that.’
‘And with the kreel, Emerald. You can read the beast’s thoughts. You don’t even have to think about it. When you’re with Emerald, the two of you are one mind. Now I want you to think about Teku. Where is the creature now, Gilwyn?’
‘Back in Jador.’
‘No,’ said Ruana sharply. ‘Where is she right now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You do! You are in my realm now, Gilwyn. Here you are all powerful! Tell me where Teku is. Tell me what she sees!’
Without warning, the image of Teku popped into Gilwyn’s mind. The scales fell away from his eyes and he saw her, and through her eyes he saw, and all the world looming large around her. He gasped, thinking it a trick, but holding his eyes closed he continued the amazing feat. He recognised the garden of the Jadori palace, its fat rose blooms hanging over the trestles. Teku was there. Looking down from her eyes Gilwyn saw her cradling a piece of fruit. When the monkey looked up again he saw Thorin leaning back hazardously on a chair, cutting slices from an apple and popping them absently into his mouth. The baron looked pensive, heavily burdened. He glanced at Teku and spoke to her, and it was as if the old man were speaking to Gilwyn himself.
‘It’s Thorin!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’s with Teku in the garden. He always looks after Teku when I’m not around.’
‘You see? This is no dream, Gilwyn, no illusion. You are seeing through her eyes, back in your world.’
The sensation amazed Gilwyn. His mouth hung open as he continued living through Teku, watching the quick movements of her tiny hands, seeming so large now as she fed herself the apple slice. Occasionally she glanced up at Thorin, revealing his grim countenance. There was something troubling his old friend, but Gilwyn was too awed to pay it much attention.
‘So this is what it’s like. Will I be able to do this with the kreel, too?’
‘In time,’ replied Ruana. ‘And with work. Open your eyes now, Gilwyn.’
At her command, Gilwyn’s eyes opened with no effort on his part, and he realised that in her world, her word was law. But he didn’t mind. She had given him a stunning gift.
‘It will not be so easy in your world,’ she told him, ‘but we will work hard together and make your gift powerful.’
Gilwyn nodded. Still stunned, he didn’t know what to say. He looked at Ruana and smiled. She was so beautiful. He wanted to thank her but didn’t know how.
‘Now you will return to your world, Gilwyn. The next time we speak, it will be different.’
‘All right,’ Gilwyn agreed. ‘We’ve been gone so long, I should get back to Minikin. But where will you go?’
‘I’ll be with you, and I’ll be here. It’s the same, really.’ Ruana leaned forward then and kissed his forehead. ‘Goodbye, Gilwyn.’