The Eyes of God (60 page)
Authors: John Marco
“Great Fate,” whispered the boy. “I had no idea. Everyone thinks you’re a crone, my lady!”
Cassandra grinned proudly. “Vicious rumors, wouldn’t you say?”
Gilwyn laughed. Cassandra liked the boy immensely. But he was still hiding something. And she still needed a great favor from him.
“Gilwyn, when you saw my amulet you said you had seen it before.” She smiled gently, trying to nurture their fragile trust. “I’ve told you everything. Now you must do the same. Where did you see this other amulet?”
The boy turned away, contemplating the dark garden. “I shouldn’t tell you this. I sort of promised that I wouldn’t. But about a week ago I saw a woman wearing an amulet just like yours. It was in Koth, very late at night. I was walking home when some men attacked me. They wanted the ring that I’d bought for you.”
Cassandra’s heart melted. “Oh, Gilwyn. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The woman with the amulet saved me. She had a big man with her, a real monster. And the amulet glowed when she did magic.”
“She did magic?” Cassandra gasped. “You saw her?”
“That’s how she saved me.” Gilwyn thought for a moment. “It’s all hard to remember now. But she helped me; I know she did.” His eyes became two narrow slits. “Something about the amulet.”
“Gilwyn, please,” pressed Cassandra. “You have to remember.”
“I can’t. I’ve tried, but that’s all I’m ever able to recall.” Cassandra leaned back. “It’s all right,” she said, unsure if she should believe the boy or not. He didn’t seem the type to lie, but Figgis was sure the other Eye was in Grimhold. Why would a woman from Koth have it?
“I wish I knew the myth better,” she mused. “Who can this woman be?”
Gilwyn smiled. “The Witch of Grimhold?”
They stared at each other, sharing the impossible notion.
“Oh, but that can’t be,” said Cassandra. “It’s all just a legend.”
“Is it?” Gilwyn reached out for Cassandra’s amulet again, this time holding it up for her to see. “Someone who’s been kept alive for sixteen years ought to believe in magic, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” said Cassandra. “Yes, I suppose so. But if this witch is here in Koth, then Akeela’s invasion is truly for nothing.” She looked hard at Gilwyn. “We have to stop him, Gilwyn. We have to warn the Jadori of the invasion.”
“We?” Gilwyn reared back. “Is that why you asked me to come here?”
“I need you, Gilwyn,” said Cassandra quickly. “I can’t do this alone. I need to escape from here, and I need to tell the Jadori they’re in danger. You have to help me.”
“But I’m just a boy,” Gilwyn protested. He held up his clubbed hand. “And not even a whole one at that. How can I help?”
Cassandra took his clubbed hand and held it, a gesture that calmed Gilwyn immediately. “You can do anything the other boys can do, Gilwyn. And you’re the only one I can trust. I need you to find someone for me.”
“Who?” asked Gilwyn suspiciously.
“Have you ever heard of the Bronze Knight?”
“Yes,” said Gilwyn. “Captain Lukien.”
Hearing the name made Cassandra smile. “That’s right. Lukien. Before I was locked away, he was very close to me. If you can find him, he will help us. You can bring him back here, then he and I can ride for Jador.”
“But how can I find Lukien? He hasn’t been seen in years, not since his banishment. No one even knows where he is.”
Cassandra grew curious. “How do you know so much about him?”
“I read, my lady. A lot. When I was younger I used to want to be a Royal Charger, just like Lukien. But, well, look at me.”
Cassandra nodded. “I understand.”
“I’m not sure you do, my lady. Lukien is long gone. He might even be dead.”
“True,” Cassandra conceded. “But I don’t think so. Lukien was resourceful. I bet he’s still alive, somewhere.” She leaned in closer, whispering, “And I bet Figgis could find out where he is.”
“Figgis? Why would he know where Lukien is?”
“Because Figgis went with Lukien to Jador to find the first amulet,” said Cassandra. “They went with Trager sixteen years ago, just before Lukien’s banishment.”
“You’re joking! Figgis went to Jador?”
“He did. Back then he was pretty spry, your mentor. And he was an expert on the Jadori. He still is, I guess. He never told you any of this because it’s a great secret. Only a handful of people know about my amulet and its so-called curse. Figgis is one of them.”
“I can’t believe it. He never said a word to me about it.” Gilwyn looked disappointed, as if his mentor’s secret had wounded him.
“Don’t blame Figgis, Gilwyn. Akeela made him swear never to tell anyone about the amulets. But Akeela says Figgis is still sharp. If anyone can find Lukien, he can.”
“I don’t know,” said Gilwyn pensively. He bit his lip like a little boy, the way Akeela used to. “If I ask Figgis, he’ll know that I’ve been sneaking out of the library. He might even deny everything.”
“Ask him,” said Cassandra. “And when you do, you’ll know that I’m telling you the truth.”
Gilwyn didn’t say anything. He didn’t even meet her eyes. Cassandra knew he was afraid, and not just about confessing his antics to Figgis. She slid toward him on the bench, so close that their bodies touched. The nearness of her made Gilwyn twitch.
“Gilwyn, you’re my only hope,” said Cassandra softly. “I can’t go to the library myself, and I can’t send Jancis or any of my other servants after Lukien. It has to be you.” She smiled, hoping she still had the power to make boys weak. “Please, Gilwyn. Won’t you help me?”
Gilwyn stood slowly and looked up at the sky. “It’s late. I have to get back.”
But he didn’t go. Instead he studied the stars, lost in all Cassandra had told him.
“Gilwyn? Will you help me?”
Still he wouldn’t answer.
“Ask Figgis,” Cassandra pressed. “He’ll tell you the truth. He’ll help you find Lukien. And I’ll pay whatever it costs. You won’t have to worry about money.” Desperate, she rose and went to him. “Please, Gilwyn. If not for me, do it for the Jadori. They’re innocent people. And you know Trager will butcher them. You’re the only one that can help them.”
Gilwyn looked down at his clubbed hand. A faint sigh crossed his lips. “I don’t know what kind of champion I’ll make you, my lady, but I’ll help you if I can.”
31
T
he familiar whirring of gears hummed through the hall as Gilwyn made his way to the catalog room. As was customary now, the library was closed and the flames in the oil sconces had been trimmed to a dull glow. Mistress Della had already retired for the night; Gilwyn had passed her room and caught her lounging with a cup of tea, her feet propped up on a chair and a serene, exhausted smile on her face. Gilwyn first looked for Figgis in the old man’s study, but the shabby office was empty. It had taken less than a second for Gilwyn to deduce his mentor’s whereabouts. Now he paused outside the catalog room, listening to the peculiar machine do its work. The door was slightly ajar and Figgis was hunched over the desk, furiously scribbling notes by the light of a single candle. He looked wretchedly tired. He did not hear Gilwyn’s approach over the mechanical noise. His hand worked diligently, as fast as the machine’s many armatures as he took his copious notes, his red eyes darting between the paper and a pair of open books beneath the candle. Hard at work, Figgis looked like any other scholar. It hurt Gilwyn to know what he was really doing.
he familiar whirring of gears hummed through the hall as Gilwyn made his way to the catalog room. As was customary now, the library was closed and the flames in the oil sconces had been trimmed to a dull glow. Mistress Della had already retired for the night; Gilwyn had passed her room and caught her lounging with a cup of tea, her feet propped up on a chair and a serene, exhausted smile on her face. Gilwyn first looked for Figgis in the old man’s study, but the shabby office was empty. It had taken less than a second for Gilwyn to deduce his mentor’s whereabouts. Now he paused outside the catalog room, listening to the peculiar machine do its work. The door was slightly ajar and Figgis was hunched over the desk, furiously scribbling notes by the light of a single candle. He looked wretchedly tired. He did not hear Gilwyn’s approach over the mechanical noise. His hand worked diligently, as fast as the machine’s many armatures as he took his copious notes, his red eyes darting between the paper and a pair of open books beneath the candle. Hard at work, Figgis looked like any other scholar. It hurt Gilwyn to know what he was really doing.
“Figgis,” said Gilwyn, pushing open the door, “I need to speak with you.”
The intrusion startled the old man, who looked up with his bloodshot eyes and rasped, “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, but it can’t wait.”
“Not now,” said Figgis crossly, turning back to his books. The catalog continued to whir. Figgis kept writing, ignoring Gilwyn as he appeared over his shoulder. “Go to your room. I don’t need you anymore tonight.”
Before Gilwyn had left Queen Cassandra, she had given him a note she had written for Lukien, carefully folded and impressed with a wax seal. Gilwyn took the note from the pocket of his trousers and dropped it squarely onto the desk.
“What’s this?” asked Figgis.
It took a moment before he took full notice of the seal. When he saw the mark of Liiria impressed in the wax, his lips pursed. Gilwyn glared at him. He was too angry to be subtle or bullied by his mentor. Figgis’ eyes drifted slowly from the note up to Gilwyn’s face. Something like guilt laced his expression.
“Guess who that’s from,” said Gilwyn.
Figgis seemed unable to answer. There were only two people allowed to use the royal family’s seal, and either one of them meant trouble. Figgis picked up the note but did not open it.
“Tell me,” said Figgis softly. “Did Akeela give you this?”
“No. Guess again.”
Figgis rose immediately and shut the door, leaving only the single candle to light the room. “Tell me where you got this,” he insisted.
“You know where I got it, Figgis. I’ve been to Lionkeep.”
“It wasn’t Akeela?” asked Figgis.
“No,” said Gilwyn. “It wasn’t Akeela.”
Still Figgis wouldn’t admit the truth. “Who, then? One of the king’s men? General Trager?”
“Figgis, it was her,” said Gilwyn ruthlessly. “Queen Cassandra.”
Figgis looked stricken. “Great Fate. . . .” He fell back against the door, staring at Gilwyn through the darkness. “How?”
“I met her. I saw her the night of the moon shadow and I’ve spoken to her since. She told me everything, Figgis.”
Figgis was incredulous. “You looked at her?”
Gilwyn nodded. “There’s no curse,” he said simply. He sighed, a sound that carried all his hurt and confusion. “Oh, Figgis. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
There was no answer from the old man. He glanced down at the note in his hand, his mouth agape. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered. “No curse.”
Gilwyn felt a pang of sadness for his mentor. The striking news had drained the color from his exhausted face. Gilwyn went and took him by the arm, leading him carefully back to his chair. Together they laid Cassandra’s note on the desk.
“It’s not to you,” Gilwyn explained. “Cassandra wrote it for someone else.”
Figgis looked up in surprise. “Who?”
“I’ll tell you, but not just yet. First, I want to know if what she told me is true. She said you knew everything, Figgis. She said you could explain it to me, and that you could prove her story and identity.” Gilwyn sat down on the edge of the desk. “But I don’t need you to prove it, do I? I can tell it’s all true just by looking at you.”
“It was a secret, Gilwyn. I swore to Akeela I would never tell anyone.” Figgis’ voice was softer than the candlelight, as though he was speaking the most profound confession. “If I had told you—if I had told anyone—Cassandra would have been at risk.”
“So you just let the ruse go on?” asked Gilwyn. “You let the king shut her away like a prisoner? Let everyone in Koth think she was a crone?”
“Don’t judge me,” said Figgis sharply. “There was no other way. None of us thought it would go on this long. We thought—”
Figgis abruptly stopped himself. Gilwyn knew what he’d almost said.
“I know all about the amulets, Figgis. Queen Cassandra showed me the one she wears. She told me you’ve been looking for the other one for sixteen years.”
The old man chuckled. “She’s been busy with her stories, hasn’t she? Well, I might as well confess. It’s all true, every word of it. She’s not lying to you, Gilwyn. She is the queen. And now that you know she’s probably told others, as well.”
“No, she hasn’t. I’m the only one who’s even seen her. She contacted me because she needs my help.”
“I’m sure,” said Figgis. He leaned back miserably. “She needs your help to escape, right? This note—I’m supposed to give it to someone to help her?”
Gilwyn smiled. “Figgis, it’s not what you think.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is. You see, I know everything about Cassandra, too. I’ve waited for this day for sixteen years. I don’t even have to read this note to know what it says. It’s for Lukien, isn’t it?”
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