‘What. .?’
‘It’s me, Thorin.’ Meriel’s smile bloomed and lit her perfect face. ‘It’s me!’
‘Meriel,’ sputtered Thorin. ‘What happened? You’re. .’ He groped for the word. ‘You’re beautiful.’
The young woman went to him and quickly took his hand. ‘Don’t be afraid. There’s nothing wrong. This is me, Thorin; the way I looked before the burning.’
Still Thorin stared. ‘How?’ he asked. ‘How’s this possible?’
‘The Akari. And Minikin. She helped me, Thorin. I asked her to make me pretty again and she did!’ Meriel laughed, the first time Thorin had ever heard such a sound from her. ‘Do you see how free I am? Do you know what this means?’
Again Kahldris seized him. Do you, Baron? Do you know what this means?
Meriel’s appearance left Thorin reeling. He let go of the girl’s hand and staggered backward, trying desperately to silence Kahldris and get his mind around what was happening.
‘No, don’t be afraid,’ said Meriel. Misunderstanding his dread, she pursued him. ‘I know you don’t understand these things. But it’s all right — it’s the Akari. They made me whole again, Thorin. They gave me back my face, my hands. .’
It was true, and it stunned Thorin. Meriel was like someone he’d never seen before, without a blemish or burn. He began to realise he wasn’t dreaming or suffering some dark trick from Kahldris.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he gasped. ‘Meriel. .’
‘No, don’t.’ She put her hand up to quiet him. ‘Don’t speak. Just listen and I’ll explain.’
Thorin nodded quickly. ‘All right,’ he said.
Meriel took his hand again and led him to sit among the rocks. As he walked he realised that her hand still felt as rough as it had in the past, but it was smooth and creamy in appearance. They sat, and as the sun dipped slowly beneath the dunes of sand Meriel began to talk. Kahldris was silent as she spoke, but Thorin knew the spirit was near. A tremor in the air, like a winter breeze, betrayed the demon. Thorin focused on Meriel’s pretty face. He was enraptured by her, and every word she spoke.
Again she told him about Minikin, and how the little sorceress had granted her this great wish. She had changed her Akari, she explained, forsaking Sarlvarian for another of the strange breed, one that could change her appearance back to the way it had been.
‘So this is an illusion?’ Thorin asked. ‘You’re not really healed?’
‘No,’ confessed Meriel. ‘But I look real to everyone, even myself.’
‘An illusion,’ Thorin remarked.
Meriel smiled cheerlessly. ‘A mirage. That’s my name now, Thorin. That’s what you must call me — Mirage.’
She explained Minikin’s odd demand, that she change her name so as not to forget the Inhumans and the reality of her gift. As Thorin listened he began to hate Minikin for imposing such a cruel toll.
‘So you are suffering again,’ he realised. ‘Without Sarlvarian, you can’t control the fire — or the pain.’
Meriel — now Mirage — nodded grimly. ‘Yes, but there are different kinds of suffering, Thorin. Looking at myself as a monster — that was true suffering. Now I am normal again. Now I can go out into the world.’
Her words startled Thorin. ‘So you’re leaving?’
Before the girl could answer, Kahldris hissed, She’s going, but not with you, Baron Glass. Ask her. .
Thorin couldn’t ask. He didn’t need Kahldris to help him see the truth of things.
‘Not right away,’ replied Mirage. She was plainly hiding something. ‘I will stay for a while at least, to get used to the way I look and to let others see me.’
‘Yes, others,’ drawled Thorin.
What others do you think?
‘Will you wait for Lukien to see you?’ asked Thorin.
His forwardness made the girl blush, the first time he’d ever seen her do so. She turned from him.
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I would like him to see me before I go. Is that so terrible?’
Kahldris was quiet again, perched on Thorin’s shoulder like a taunting crow. Something like pity emanated from the spirit, a kind of manly reassurance.
‘I see,’ said Thorin. Suddenly he could find no words, only anger for the way she spurned him. He said tartly, ‘Lukien will appreciate the change in you, I’m sure. He’s always had an eye for pretty things.’
‘Thorin, you don’t understand. .’
‘I do understand, my lady. I am half a man in your eyes. But never did I see you as half a woman.’
He whirled and began to leave, his head pounding with angry words. Meriel started after him but before she could take two steps he wagged a warning finger at her.
‘Do not follow me,’ he barked. ‘I was right to keep my distance from you, and all your selfish kind. You have what you want now, Meriel-’
‘Mirage. .’
‘I will call you as I wish, child! And when you are gone from this hateful place, forget me, as I will forget you.’
Thorin thundered away. She did not pursue him. It was already dark and his cursed imbalance made walking difficult. As he began his ungainly skid down the hillside he felt a force at his arm, reaching for him, supporting him.
Baron Glass paused. He was breathing hard and the intangible thing terrified him. He glanced down at the base of the hill, but the darkness had swallowed it and made seeing impossible. He thought of calling up to Meriel for help, but of course he could not.
‘Better that I should fall and break my neck,’ he seethed.
Why?
Kahldris spoke his question with a lamb’s innocence.
‘Why?’ railed Thorin. ‘Because I am old! Because I am half a man!’
He didn’t care if Meriel heard him or if his dark angel laughed. But Kahldris did not laugh. Again the Akari reached out his invisible hand.
This time, Thorin took it.
That night, Thorin remained alone in his chamber. He did not sup with the others, nor did he have any appetite for anything but wine. He stole a decanter from the kitchen, spiriting the valuable stuff into his room and drinking alone while he thought of Meriel. She was beautiful now and he could not help but lust for her. Since leaving Jazana Carr he had not been with a woman, and he ached for that soft companionship. He had no right to be angry with her, he knew, yet he had endured more than his share of miseries lately and blaming her for his pain was convenient.
He missed Lukien. He missed Gilwyn as well, and wished now that he had remained in Jador to be with the boy. But in his anger with Minikin he had come back to Grimhold, where he would not have to face the Seekers who had come from Liiria, men and women he had promised to help. Minikin had made a liar of him, and he saw no good reason any longer for her stubbornness. Grimhold was a giant place, not just the keep, but the village beyond. Surely there was room for everyone now that its secret was out.
As he drank, a fever overcame Thorin. He was chilled and shivered in his dark room, his sweaty face lit only by a candle. Feeling Kahldris’ touch had iced his bowels. There had been so much power in the union it had buckled Thorin’s knees. He had fled to the wine to calm his rattled nerves. Kahldris was silent now. Thorin could not tell if the demon was in the room or if he had returned to that place of the dead. The conversation with the Akari exhausted Thorin. He leaned back in his small bed and let the wine bottle teeter from his fingers as he fell into a miserable slumber.
A comfortable darkness soon enveloped him. Thorin realised at once that he was dreaming. He was lucid though, and the sensation frightened him. Instantly he realised he had slipped through a veil into Kahldris’ realm. Thorin found he could not wake himself. Back in the real world, he could feel the heart in his sleeping body pound with fear. He fought to calm himself and see his way through the darkness. It was not the first time Kahldris had slipped into his dreams. Since then, when the dark Akari had showed him that unknown battlefield, it had happened two more times.