‘The boy saw the armour?’
White-Eye nodded. ‘He described the man who’d killed Denik. I knew it was the Devil’s Armour. When I went down to the armoury, the armour was gone. And so was Baron Glass.’
Minikin clasped her amulet. Already Thorin had killed a man. Already Kahldris was coaxing out the worst of the baron’s nature. They were military men, both of them, and she knew Kahldris would use that against Thorin.
‘I should have seen this,’ she groaned. ‘I should have known the power Kahldris would have over Thorin.’ She turned toward the gate where the others waited for her. Outside, the great expanse of desert hid Baron Glass and his new, dangerous weapon.
‘He took the horse and rode off, but that was hours ago,’ said White-Eye. ‘We did not know what to do, so we waited. I knew you would come, Minikin. Faralok told me you were coming.’
White-Eye’s Akari was a sensible spirit. He had counselled her correctly.
‘There was nothing for you to do,’ said Minikin. ‘You were right to wait for me.’
White-Eye grimaced. ‘I am sorry. If I could have done more. .’
‘You would have been killed, just like Denik. There’s nothing to be done now but wait.’
‘Wait?’
‘For Amaraz to arrive,’ Minikin explained. ‘Once Lukien brings the amulet, Amaraz will know what to do.’
23
Lukien stood in the middle of the small chamber, smelling the sweet incense burning on the altar. A dozen candles flickered in sconces along the stone walls. In this small prayer chamber of Grimhold, silence reigned, punctuated by Minikin’s rhythmic breathing. On her knees before the altar, Minikin prayed. Lukien had only just arrived, and she had brought him to the unassuming room at once.
It had been night again by the time he’d reached Grimhold. His own horse had exhausted itself along the way, expiring amid the formidable desert sands. From that point on he had shared the back of Sharjal with Karcon. The kreel had gotten them to Jador quicker than any horse, and from there had rushed him to Grimhold. Together he and Gilwyn and Karcon had gone on to the ancient fortress, and had at last heard the desperate news from Minikin.
The Devil’s Armour was gone. And Thorin with it.
At first Lukien had been unable to believe the news. Gilwyn, too, had come to the baron’s defence. It was unthinkable that Thorin could betray them, murdering an innocent in the process. But the evidence was obvious, and though the news was shattering it was also undeniable. Even Gilwyn, now enjoying a long-delayed reunion with White-Eye, had been forced to admit the truth.
Lukien’s mind reeled with regrets as he stood before the altar. Thorin had needed him, but he had neglected his old friend. His eyes moved curiously around the candlelit chamber. He had never been in Minikin’s private prayer room, but he knew that she came here sometimes to commune with the Akari. Now, there was only one Akari that could help them.
It surprised Lukien that he felt afraid. Amaraz was his Akari, the one that kept him alive despite mortal wounds. But he was not like other Inhumans. Amaraz had never spoken to him before, not even coming to him in dreams. Alone with Minikin, he wondered what Amaraz would say, and how the Akari might help them.
He steeled himself. As patiently as possible, he waited for Minikin to rise from her prayers. The mistress had wasted no time in bringing him to the chamber. He had not even seen Meriel yet, though it surprised him that the girl had not hurried to see him.
Don’t think of her, he told himself. She was a distraction he didn’t need.
As he cleared his mind he felt the Eye of God around his neck begin to thrum. Glancing down he saw that Minikin’s own amulet pulsed, too. The light from the gems mingled with the candle glow, turning their faces orange.
‘Clear your mind, Lukien,’ said Minikin suddenly.
‘I have.’
‘No, you are thinking of Meriel. You will see her when we are done here. Think only of Amaraz.’
It was not wholly possible for him to think only of Amaraz, for he knew so little of the being. He tried gamely though, closing his one eye and taking a deep breath. Minikin rose from her knees to stand before him. She placed her little hand on the altar.
‘Do as I do, Lukien.’
Lukien placed his palm down on the smooth stone of the relic. It was cool, like marble.
‘You are ready?’ asked Minikin.
‘To meet Amaraz? I’ve been ready since you gave me this bloody amulet.’
‘Then relax. Keep your hand on the altar.’
Lukien nodded. ‘All right.’
‘Close your eye. .’
‘Yes. .’
‘And trust me.’
It was easy to trust Minikin. She had never spoken anything but the truth. Lukien released his fears, preparing himself to meet his great benefactor.
He knew from speaking to Gilwyn what it might be like, but nothing prepared him for the sense of wonder. At first he felt soaring, as if the world had fallen away beneath his feet. The blackness of his closed eye gave way to a swelling light — the chamber expanding impossibly around him. The walls rose to tower higher, the ceiling yawned upward. The bricks beneath his feet shimmered and came alive, and suddenly it was the prayer chamber no longer.
He was in the world of the Akari.
He could see them everywhere, beautiful, ethereal beings drifting through the air, leaving trails of light in their wake. Some waited along the walls, standing without feet, watching him with shining faces. High above in the rafters of the roof he saw them looking down on him, their voices soft and pretty as they chattered in their dead language. The chamber, which had magically expanded into a grand theatre, echoed with their pleasing noise.
Lukien took his hand from the altar. Was it really his hand? He looked at it and wondered. Like the room and everything in it, it too had become translucent. But the sight of Minikin heartened him.
‘The Akari?’ he asked, gesturing to the spirits all around them.
‘We are in their realm now,’ replied the mistress. Her face was serene, as if she felt completely at home.
‘Which one is Amaraz?’
‘None of these,’ Minikin replied. She pointed with her chin behind the altar. ‘Look there.’
Lukien turned his gaze back to the altar. Behind it, the wall had fallen away, exposing a cascade of blue light. A figure moved in the light, a face that was the very light itself. Two ancient eyes blinked at him. Lukien’s heart froze.
‘Amaraz?’ He could barely speak the name. Squinting for a better view, the visage of the great Akari grew clearer until his magnificence collected into an unmistakable face. Alive in every way, the countenance of light regarded him. Not knowing if he should bow or greet the being, Lukien merely stood before the altar, stunned by what he was seeing. Then, the spirit’s eyes left him, fixing instead on Minikin.
‘Long since you have come to me, dear friend,’ said Amaraz. Lukien had never heard a voice like it. To listen to Amaraz was to hear a god speak. ‘I have missed you.’
Minikin favoured the spirit with a warm smile. In his gentle gaze she seemed to melt. ‘Too long as always, great Amaraz,’ she said. ‘A year at least, since giving you over to this one.’
The oblique reference to himself made Lukien uncomfortable. The Eye of God — or what looked like it in this strange world — still hung around his neck.
‘Greetings to my sister. She fares well for you still?’
Minikin slipped her tiny fingers over the jewel in her own amulet. As if speaking, the red gem pulsed a reply. ‘Lariniza sends her greetings as well. Often does she speak of you, Amaraz, and urges me to seek you.’
Amazingly, sadness infused the ethereal face. ‘The amulets serve their purposes, dear Minikin. We have always known this.’