all of eternity. But this is uncertain, for no witness has ever come back to report it. I am afraid. I will tell you that much. I had hoped you could provide me with some insight, some comfort, some secret gained through your magical nature. Something. Have you ever had visions?”
Ginna spoke slowly, very carefully. “I have had dreams. You are usually in them. You are very wise and you lead me. Sometimes we walk in the dead city among the flickering towers, and I can see the faint outlines of the buildings as they looked when they were new. There are people hurrying back and forth. We try to talk to them, but they don’t stop. To them we’re invisible.”
“Then whatever secret is in you has not yet come out. Perhaps it shall when I am gone. That is why I fear for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes. If I could have things as I want them, you would be my heir and rule all of Randelcain6 after me. But I have made it clear from the start that you are not. I said so in front of witnesses when you were found, and for a very good reason. After I am dead, you must keep that quality which had endeared you to me. Stay out of politics. Don’t seek position or fame. Don’t get to know the right people. If you are part of even a little intrigue, a tiny stratagem, you are changed forever. Do you understand why I was so careful to disinherit you? If you had any claim to the throne, how long do you think you would be allowed to live? Kaemen has his followers already.”
“What shall I do, after—?”
“Just live. I hope you can do that. Then, if there is a destiny hovering about you, it will be fulfilled. If not, you’ll still be happier.” He took a ring from one of his fingers and gave it to Ginna. “Wear this always. It will tell people that anyone who harms you will face the curse of my ghost. It is my last command to you that you survive. See that it is carried out.”
“I love you,” the boy wept. He leaned over and put his head on the old man’s chest. He sobbed without restraint.
“I love you too.” Thin, pale fingers with skin dry as parchment stroked his hair. “I don’t believe guardians are supposed to love anyone. We’re supposed to be beyond all that”
Someone knocked on the door to the chamber.
“Holy Lord,” came a voice. “Are you awake?”
Ginna sat upright, stiff with terror.
“Go quickly,” whispered the old man. “It’s one of my accursed doctors. Very skilled, utterly useless now. A bore. You wouldn’t want to meet him.”
The boy left the bedside without another word. He drew aside a tapestry, pressed on a stone, and left the way he always did.
* * * *
Shortly before dawn, Ginna lay awake atop a heap of straw in his room in one of the short, squat towers overlooking the kata stables. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional snorts and whines of the beasts and the far off cries of the watch.
He chose to be alone then, but it occurred to him that most of the time he was alone anyway without any choice. Courtiers and soldiers ignored him as just another urchin. The stable folk, the trainers of the katas, the smiths, and the serving women were always polite. They tried to act naturally around him, as if he were no one special, but he knew, he could secretly sense that they were a little in awe of him and a little afraid. He sometimes overheard snatches of whispered conversations. He was, after all, so often led away by men of purpose and bearing. Someone was showing him more attention than he would normally merit, and trying to hide the fact He was, rumor had it, part of some intrigue, perhaps a child of high rank being hidden until some danger was past. But the gossipers could never possibly imagine the truth, that he was being summoned by The Guardian himself, that he was Tharanodeth’s friend.
His friend. It occurred to him that he had only two friends in the world. He knew so few people. He had been educated only by Tharanodeth, and spottily, learning whatever it had moved the old man’s fancy to teach him.
Tharanodeth and the girl Amaedig, whose name meant Cast Aside. And now Tharanodeth was dying. But he could weep no more. He had exhausted his supply of tears that evening, and there was only a hollow ache within him.
“Ginna.”
He sat up with a start. The straw rustled. He peered breathlessly into the gloom. The world was absolutely still. Something had shut out all the sounds of the night
“Ginna.”
“Here I am.” His heart pounded with bewilderment, then terror, then joy when he recognized the voice, followed by terror again. It was impossible that he was hearing that voice now, in this place.
“Ginna.”
Tharanodeth stood in the doorway to the room. He had the carven staff in his hand and he wore a travelling cloak and his walking shoes. His face shone brightly, as if a lantern were held up to it, and yet there was no lantern.
“Ginna, I am on the road now. It is a long way. Goodbye.”
“Wait! Where are you going? Don’t go!”
The light went out like a candle extinguished. The boy leapt up and stumbled out into the hallway which was filled only with the echoes of his shouting.
It was very dark every way he looked, and when he fell silent the night was still.
He walked the battlements until dawn in search of his friend, hoping for another glimpse, but he asked nothing of the few people he met. They couldn’t help him. He dared not tell them what he had seen.
The new day found him in a wide, high hall. The sun touched the blue glass of the skylight, flooding the room with color. On opposite walls were hung portraits for the bright and dark aspects of The Goddess. One, clothed in midnight, remained dark. The other, astride a dolphin, glowed with the brilliance of the sunrise.
Remembering when he had first met her, he placed his hands together, then parted them, and a ball of light rose up for The Goddess to see.
Suddenly trumpets sounded. Cymbals clashed. Many metal-shod feet tramped. Two huge doors swung wide in front of him, and suddenly the room was filled with people. First came the trumpeters, then a squadron of soldiers in full armor, with richly decorated shields and banners trailing from their spears. Drummers drummed. A line of boys Ginna’s age rang bells and chanted. Countless courtiers, lords, and ladies followed, all in their richest attire. In the midst of them was a chair on a platform, held aloft by eight burly men.
Ginna was so bedazzled by this intrusion that he just stood there in the middle of the floor, gaping.
“You there! Brat! Get out of here!” A captain in a scarlet cape and winged helmet came forward waving a sword.
“No. Let him stay. Let him be the first to congratulate me.”
Ginna looked up to see who had spoken. Everyone else looked up too. When that voice was raised, all others fell silent. He recognized the pudgy, pale figure on the platform, even though he had not seen him in years and certainly had never seen him like this, dressed in vestments which were black on one side and white on the other, and holding a golden staff in his hand.
It was Kaemen. He was only a month older than Ginna, but now he was the new Guardian, the holiest person in the world.
The
