On the morning of his fifth day back in Jador, Gilwyn went alone to the garden, choosing a spot so that he could enjoy the solitude with his pet monkey, Teku. Like White-Eye, Teku had missed him, and had also changed during his absence. She was a bit slower now as age caught up with her lithe little frame, but she still liked to crawl up his arm and look for treats in his collar. Gilwyn sat beneath a tree, its wide, leafy canopy shading him from the sun while Teku ate dates out of his palm. He had no definite plans for the day but knew he would soon have to speak with Lukien. And with Minikin. Things were not the same in Jador anymore, and Teku wasn’t the only one who had aged. Everyone could see the change in Minikin, even White-Eye, blind though she was. Time was catching up with the nearly-immortal mistress. The injustice of it made Gilwyn sad.
And too, thinking of Lukien saddened him as well. The weeks they had spent together on the road, first returning to Nith with Daralor and his men and then riding on to Ganjor had been some of the happiest Gilwyn could remember. They were both at peace at last, and the inevitable decision ahead of Lukien seemed a hundred years away. Now, though, they were back in Jador and Lukien’s quest was over. He was still Shalafein, but White-Eye no longer needed a protector.
‘But how can I ask him?’ Gilwyn wondered aloud. He directed the question to Teku, who looked up at him inquisitively as she gnawed a plump date, holding it in her furry digits. ‘I don’t even want to think about it.’
All Gilwyn wanted was to be here in Jador, at peace, sharing his life with his friends and the woman he loved. Why couldn’t Lukien feel like that?
The answer struck him as obvious.
‘Because his woman is dead,’ he sighed.
There could never be another Cassandra, not for Lukien.
An hour went by and Gilwyn remained beneath the shade tree. He was out of dates for Teku but the monkey didn’t mind. Instead she had climbed up the tree to explore its many limbs, occasionally calling down to Gilwyn to assure him she was all right. Gilwyn looked straight up into the canopy, then noticed Minikin coming toward him through the garden. He made to stand, but the mistress bade him to sit. Oddly, she had come alone, without the ubiquitous Trog. Her little legs, helped by her cane, carried her quickly over to Gilwyn. Catching a glimpse of Teku in the tree, she smiled.
‘May I sit?’ she asked Gilwyn.
Gilwyn laughed. ‘You never have to ask my permission, Minikin. I’m glad you’re here. I was thinking about you. And about Lukien.’
‘Ah, then we are thinking alike today, Gilwyn.’ Minikin lowered herself to the ground a bit awkwardly, laying her cane on the ground beside her. She used her spidery fingers to caress the soft grass. ‘This is a good place you’ve chosen for us to talk.’
‘Huh?’
‘You knew I’d come sooner or later. We have things to talk about, you and I.’
Gilwyn nodded. He put his hand beneath his shirt and pulled out the Eye of God. ‘You mean this.’
‘That and other things, yes,’ said Minikin. She leaned forward, stretching her back. ‘Oh, the aches and pains of old age. I hope you feel better than I do when you reach my age, Gilwyn.’
‘And how old is that?’
‘I’ll never tell.’
They laughed, but Gilwyn knew her business was serious. He settled back against the tree trunk, encouraging her to speak. Minikin, who liked to take her time with things, did not hurry but rather enjoyed the garden for a spell, noticing the butterflies collecting around a patch of wildflowers. While she watched them, she spoke to Gilwyn at last.
‘You are thinking about Lukien,’ she said, ‘and what will happen if he leaves here. He did not tell you, then?’
‘No,’ said Gilwyn. ‘And I didn’t ask him.’
‘No? Not in all the time you spent together riding back to Jador?’
‘I couldn’t.’ Gilwyn shrugged. ‘Maybe I didn’t want to know his answer.’
Minikin nodded. ‘It will be a great loss if he leaves us, but the decision is his to make, all alone. I am glad you haven’t tried to sway him, Gilwyn.’
‘I want to, believe me. I want to beg him to stay here with us. He has the sword to keep him alive. He doesn’t have to give it up.’
‘You’re right, he doesn’t have to. Life is all about the choices we make. And I have made a choice too, Gilwyn.’ Minikin took his hand, not the strong one but the clubbed one, holding it gently in her small palm. ‘This is the fist of a powerful young man. A good man to wear the Eye of God. Amaraz and his sister have helped the Inhumans for centuries, Gilwyn.’
Gilwyn stopped her. ‘Minikin, I know what you’re going to say. Please don’t.’
She grinned wickedly. ‘See? You have my gifts already!’
‘No, I don’t,’ Gilwyn insisted. ‘I can’t read minds and I can’t summon the Akari and I can’t do any of the things you can do. Grimhold needs you, so please — don’t think about dying or passing things on to me.’
‘We all die, boy,’ said Minikin. There was not a trace of fear in her tone. ‘Even you’ll die someday, even with the Eye of God. I do not know why the magic doesn’t last forever, but I feel it weakening in me, and Lariniza has told me my time is growing short.’
‘No, Minikin. .’
‘Yes.’ She held his hand firmly and looked straight into his eyes. ‘When my time comes, you will lead the Inhumans, Gilwyn. You will be the Master of Grimhold. And White-Eye will be your queen. When I die, take the amulet from around my neck and give it to her.’
‘What?’ Gilwyn felt a shock of panic. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘You can. She has already agreed to it.’ Minikin’s eyes twinkled. ‘As they say, she is her father’s daughter.’
‘Minikin, I don’t want this. .’
‘No,’ Minikin interrupted. ‘No more talk. It is done.’ She picked up her cane and struggled to her feet. ‘This is a good place to think. So think on what I have said. You will see the rightness of it, Gilwyn.’
Gilwyn got up after her. ‘You’re going? Just like that?’
She turned and hobbled back through the garden, waving over her shoulder. ‘Think on what I’ve said,’ she ordered. ‘I have other business to tend today.’
On the other side of the palace, Minikin at last found Eiriann. She was playing with Poppy in one of the common areas that surrounded the royal residence, where everyone in Jador was welcome to enjoy the splendour of the palace. Here, a bubbling pool of crystal water fountained up from the ground, surrounded by beautiful brick work that invited children to come and play. Today being a typically perfect day in Jador, mothers from around the city had brought their children to frolic in the fountain, cooling off in its sparkling cascade. Eiriann held little Poppy beneath a spray of water, supporting the naked child under the arms. Poppy burbled with laughter at the sensation. She could not see or hear the water, but the feeling of it on her skin was enough to make her giddy. As Minikin spied Eiriann and the child from the outskirts of the common area, she mourned for Lorn and all the things he had stupidly left behind.
Eiriann and Poppy had been a pleasure to have in the palace, but Lorn’s death had changed things. Things would be different now for both of them. Minikin prepared herself to give them the news, smoothing out her coat and fixing a smile on her face. Well-wishers greeted her, happy to see the mistress among them, and as Minikin approached the fountain she nodded politely to the people, not inviting conversation. Eiriann pulled Poppy away from the fountain, then brought her over to the warm grass to dry in the sun. When she saw Minikin coming toward them, her breath caught. She laid Poppy down on a square of fabric, blotting the water from her smooth skin. The child’s blank eyes searched the shadows above her.
‘Hello,’ the girl offered awkwardly.