Web of Eyes by Jaime Castle

Author:Jaime Castle [Castle, Jaime]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

XXVI

The Knight

SEVERAL LONELY DAYS passed trekking south from the ruins, and Torsten hadn’t run into as much as a titrat or squirrel. His feet were sore and blistering, but at least one thing was going for him: silence. The self-proclaimed ‘greatest thief alive’ had been nothing but a ceaselessly-chattering bother. Torsten was happy to hear birds again. Insects, The blowing wind, anything but Whitney’s mindless blabbering.

Being alone wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. It was the way he’d felt since Liam grew too ill to give sensible orders and the way he was damned to continue onward. Everyone he’d ever trusted seemed to be losing their minds; from Liam to Oleander, and now good Sir Uriah Davies—one of the finest King’s Shieldsman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. The man who’d taught him the art of swordsmanship might as well be dead. He let Torsten leave with enough food to reach the Webbed Woods, but every time he bit into the stale bread he felt a deep chasm growing in his belly.

He couldn’t remember how many times he’d knelt beside the man under the gilded Eye of Iam in Yarrington Cathedral, how many battles he’d marched to at his side in the name of the Glass Kingdom. Now Uriah was worshipping fairy tales in the cult-dens of fallen gods.

“Iam,” Torsten whispered toward the moon one night, “if this is a test, I do not understand.”

He sat at the edge of a small bear cave, arms wrapped around his torso to stay warm. He didn’t want to risk a fire again and had forgotten to ask for a blanket when he’d left the cultist’s compound. The night air bit at his cheeks, growing colder every hour. Soon the bears would be returning to their hollows for slumber, but until then, he had cover from the wind.

He reached beneath his undershirt and grabbed his necklace—an eye of Iam made of blown glass. He could still remember the day Liam had given it to him. It rained the day Torsten was sworn into the King’s Shield. Liam told him Iam was weeping with joy.

Torsten closed his eyes and squeezed. “Since the day I felt your light upon me, never have you led me astray. You saw fit to take Liam from this plane and I did not question your wisdom. But these last few years… what have I missed, my Lord? What sins have I committed to earn this heartbreak? Send me a sign, oh, Vigilant Eye, that I still number among your champions.”

Torsten released the amulet and opened his eyes. Silence reigned but for the rattling of bare branches silhouetted against the night sky. Almost the last of the leaves had fallen, and Torsten noted Pantego’s moons. Clora was full and orange like an orb of flame, but Loutis, the gray, lifeless, rock was crested on its side as if, together, they were the eyes of a winking giant.

Their proximity to Iam’s Star—always pointing north, the brightest in the sky—meant it was winter’s first day.

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