The Eyes of God (98 page)

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Authors: John Marco

BOOK: The Eyes of God
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“What you are doing?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be in there, Lukien.”
“What is this?” Lukien asked, pointing to the armor. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“No, I’m sure you haven’t,” said Minikin. “Come away from there now.”
Lukien wouldn’t budge. He stayed in the shadow of the magnificent armor, forcing Minikin to come to him. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “And look—it’s completely unmarked. It’s perfect.”
“Hmm, not as perfect as you think,” sighed Minikin. “That is the Devil’s Armor, Lukien.”
Lukien turned. “Devil’s Armor?”
“That is what it’s called,” Minikin replied. “An apt name.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Step away and I will explain.”
Lukien shook his head. “No, I want to look at it. I’ve never seen armor like it before. What is this metal?”
He was about to reach for it when Minikin quickly seized his hand.
“Don’t,” she commanded. She held fast, pulling him away from the armor. “The Devil’s Armor isn’t to be touched.”
“Sorry,” said Lukien in confusion. “I didn’t mean any harm. I came down here to see what kind of weapons there were. There was light under the door so I came in.” He turned back toward the armor. “That’s when I found this . . . thing.”
“How did you get in here?” asked Minikin. “That door was locked.”
“It wasn’t. It was open when I arrived.”
Minikin’s face darkened. She looked angry, and a bit afraid. “Open? That’s the truth? You didn’t pry it open yourself?”
“Why would I do that?” asked Lukien. “I’m telling you, it was unlocked.”
Minikin grimaced and said, “I believe you. I should have warned you about it before you stumbled down here yourself. The fault is mine I suppose.”
“How did you know I was down here, anyway?”
“I was told,” said Minikin simply.
Lukien was about to ask by who, but then decided he didn’t want to know. She had already told him there were spirits in Grimhold. So instead he asked, “What is this armor, Minikin? Why is it called Devil’s Armor?”
“The
Devil’s Armor,” Minikin corrected mildly. “And it’s called that because the man who made it was a devil. He was an Akari named Kahldris, and he was a great summoner. But he was also a butcher. He lived many years ago, many years before the Akari were destroyed. That,” Minikin pointed toward the armor, “was his greatest creation. And his most infamous.”
“Why infamous?” asked Lukien. “What did he do?”
“Kahldris was a general,” said Minikin. “A great military leader of the Akari, back when they cared about such things. Back then there were many people in this part of the world, I think. I don’t know for sure, because the spirits don’t tell me everything. But they did explain the armor to me. It was Kahldris’ greatest weapon. It was supposed to live on after he died. And it has, because just like the Eyes of God, that armor is possessed . . . by Kahldris.”
Lukien studied the armor, still confused. “So why is it so dangerous? This Kahldris was a butcher, you say? But he’s dead now.”
“No,” said Minikin. “He lives on within the armor. He possesses it, Lukien. You must understand what that means. Any man who wears the armor will be driven by Kahldris, owned by him. The armor may be invincible, but—”
“Invincible?” Lukien looked at her hard. “Say that again?”
“It’s true,” said Minikin darkly. “The armor is invincible to blade or arrow. No one wearing it can be destroyed, at least that’s what the spirits say. But before you get any ideas understand what I’m telling you. No man can control it. To wear it would make you a killing machine. Like Kahldris, you would be a butcher.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” said Lukien sourly. “So why did he create it? If it can’t be used what good is it?”
“I’m not quite sure,” confessed Minikin. “Maybe Kahldris created it so that he could live on forever. But none of the Akari would wear the armor. Not even when the Jadori came and slaughtered them.”
“That seems very stupid to me,” said Lukien. “This armor could have saved them.”
Minikin shook her head. “No. The Akari preferred to die rather than have their minds eaten by Kahldris and his poison.”
“But if no one even tried it how could they have known? Maybe they could have controlled it. Maybe—”
“Stop now, Lukien, and listen to me. The Devil’s Armor is an evil thing. The only reason it’s still here is because I’ve never discovered a way to destroy it.”
“But this armor could be our salvation! If I could wear it in battle against Trager—”
“No!” snapped Minikin. She fixed her coal-dark eyes on him. “That armor is never to be worn. Not by you or anyone else. There’s no way you could control Kahldris, Lukien. And there’s no way I would let you try. Kahldris still has sway in the world. That door didn’t just unlock itself.”
Lukien almost laughed. “You mean Kahldris opened it? Just to get me in here?”
“How many things do I have to show you, Lukien? When will you believe that there are forces in Grimhold you don’t yet understand?”
“I’m sorry,” said Lukien. “You’re right. I don’t understand. But is it better that the Inhumans should die, then? You won’t even take a chance on saving them?”
“The Inhumans will not die, Lukien. You underestimate us.”
“You keep saying that!” cried Lukien. “But I’ve looked all around Grimhold, and I haven’t seen a single thing to convince me we can defeat Akeela.”
Minikin smiled. “You’ve looked all around Grimhold?”
“Yes. And I’m telling you that all your magic tricks aren’t going to help us. It doesn’t help that some mute girl can see the future or that a burned woman can make a rose out of fire. I need people who can fight, people who can pick up a mace and smash a man’s head in!”
“And there’s no one here who can do that?”
“Why are you asking stupid questions?” Lukien sputtered. The frustration of everything overcame him. “Look around, Minikin. Some of your people don’t even have arms!”
Minikin said calmly, “Lukien, I think it’s time I showed you something.” She took his hand and led him out of the chamber, careful to close and lock the door on the Devil’s Armor. As they left the armory she was characteristically quiet, which only infuriated Lukien further. Halfway up the cellar staircase, he yanked free his hand.
“Where now?” he asked with a sigh. “Minikin, I need to talk to you.”
“We will talk,” said Minikin, “after you’ve seen what I want to show you.”
So the little woman kept walking, up the stairs and into the feeble light of the hall, then down the hall and up another flight of stairs, passing Inhumans along the way and giving them her gentle smile. Lukien followed with a frown on his face, wanting to stop and ask her questions but knowing he’d only get more of her meaningless replies. When at last they reached one of the keep’s numerous turrets, revealed inside by a great bulge in the wall, Minikin opened a large door to uncover yet another stairway, this one coiling upward in a tight circle.
“We’re going up,” she said. “Prepare yourself; it’s a long climb.”
And she was right. After a few minutes of climbing, Lukien was puffing and his thighs burned. Minikin’s little legs carried her effortlessly up the stairs, as though she’d made the climb a thousand times. The walls of the turret were smooth and lit with more of the familiar oil lamps, but there were very few and so the way was dark and treacherous. Occasionally the stairs gave way to landings, where shuttered windows were cut into the mountain and platforms jutted out onto battlements, complete with arrow slits for Akari archers, now long dead. But Minikin did not pause at any of these. Instead she continued spinning upward until Lukien thought he would faint from exhaustion. It was hard for his eye to adjust to the light. Minikin noted his discomfort and told him the top was not much further.
“And what’s at the top?” he asked.
She replied, “You’ll see.”
“Why so bloody high?”
“Patience, Bronze Knight. You’ll like what I show you.”
Her claim didn’t fill Lukien with confidence, so when, at last, they reached the top of the turret, he looked around skeptically. They entered a round room, nearly bare but for a few chairs and tables and some odd looking equipment near a large shuttered window. Lukien recognized one of the items at once. It was like a long tube on a tripod made of gleaming metal. A spyglass. Akeela used to have one in his study. There were charts on the wall with amateurish scribblings and other instruments of measurement strewn along a nearby table.
“What is this place?” Lukien asked.
Minikin went to the spyglass and began unclasping the shutters, but she did not open them. “An observatory. We’re in the highest part of Grimhold now. You can see everything from here. This is where I teach the Inhumans about the stars and their magic.” Then she shrugged. “Well, those who can make the climb, anyway.”
“So why bring me up here?” asked Lukien. He went to the spyglass and ran his fingertips over it. The metal was smooth and cool. It was larger than the one Figgis had made for Akeela, and of an unusual design. Lukien supposed it was Akari.
“Have you ever used one of these before?” asked Minikin.
Lukien nodded. “Yes. Akeela had one. He used to like to watch the stars. Figgis, his librarian, told him a lot about the heavens. Sometimes we used to stay on his balcony for hours, just stargazing and talking.”
Minikin smiled at the lament. “Sounds nice.”
“It was,” said Lukien. “But that’s not the Akeela you’ll be facing, Minikin.”
“Which brings me to my point,” declared the little woman. “Look through the spyglass for me.”
Lukien frowned. The spyglass was pointed toward the shutters. “But the window is closed.”
“I’ll open it,” Minikin assured him. “Just do as I say, all right?”
With a shrug Lukien stooped and looked into the lens. As expected, he could see only blackness. “Very interesting,” he said dryly.
“Wait now,” urged Minikin. “And don’t look up. Just keep your eye on the lens.”
“I will.”
When Minikin at last opened the shutters, sunlight flooded the room and the lens of the spyglass. It stabbed Lukien’s eye, and it took a moment for him to adjust. When he did, he saw the colors of the desert spring to life. But unlike Akeela’s spyglass, this one was shockingly clear, revealing its contents in crisp detail. Yet at first Lukien didn’t know what he was seeing. The browns and reds of the desert flooded his vision, but also strange white shapes that looked like. . . .
“Homes. . . ?”
A second later, he knew it was a village. He bolted up from the spyglass and stared out the window. In the distance he saw it—a rolling white village of homesteads and avenues, spreading out in a sunken valley between the mountains. The sight shocked him. Blinking in disbelief, he leaned out over the open window.
“By the Fate, what’s that?”
“That,” said Minikin, “is Grimhold.”
“That’s a village! With people and everything!” Lukien could see them in the avenues, lugging water and holding children, safe from the world beyond the mountains. “Minikin, I . . . I don’t understand.”
“That is Grimhold, Sir Lukien,” said Minikin with a chuckle. “The real Grimhold.”
“But I thought this fortress was Grimhold!” Lukien rushed back to the spyglass for a better look, laughing with delight as he scanned the village. There were Inhumans, all right, but also able-bodied men and women in the streets and working in the fields circling the homesteads. There was even a small pond fed by a mountain stream, with women drawing water from it. It was a beautiful village, a picturesque dream, and Lukien couldn’t contain his glee. “I don’t believe it!” he crowed. “It’s huge! How many people are there?”
Oh, at least a few thousand now.”
“What?” Lukien lifted his gaze and stared at Minikin. “All Inhumans?”
“And not all of them deformed,” replied Minikin. “Lukien, this fortress isn’t Grimhold. It’s only part of it.”
“But how?” sputtered Lukien. “How so many people?”
“Think about it, Lukien. If you do, you can figure it out for yourself. As I once told you, Grimhold has existed for many, many years. There was no way this fortress could hold so many people after a while, not once they started having children.”
Lukien was aghast. “Children? You mean the Inhumans have been breeding?”
Minikin laughed. “Why should that shock you? We’re people, Lukien, just like you.”
“But that would take decades,” said Lukien. He went to the window and leaned over the sill. What Minikin had told him was mind-boggling. Surely most of these people had been brought here, otherwise. . . .
He turned very slowly toward Minikin, regarding her carefully. “Minikin, how old are you? I mean, if there was no one here when you arrived, how could you have possibly brought this many people to Grimhold?”

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