child is safe. Do not be afraid for him.”
To her surprise, Beith wasn’t afraid. She knew—somehow—that no harm had come to Gilwyn. She squinted at the little woman and saw her multicolored coat swirling as if it were alive.
“Are you magical?” she asked.
The question delighted the intruder. “Why, yes I am.”
“I’m not afraid. But I should be. Am I under a bewitchment?”
The woman floated closer, until she and Beith were standing face to face. Only they weren’t really, because Beith towered over the stranger. The woman looked up at Beith. She seemed to be studying her.
“Let us talk.” She gestured toward the bed. “Sit.”
Beith heard the warnings in her mind, telling her to run and to rescue Gilwyn, yet the voices were very faint, pushed way back in her brain. So instead of running, Beith obeyed the stranger, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She noticed the amulet around the woman’s neck, glowing ruby red. The remarkable coat she wore no longer swam with life, yet Beith knew she was in the power of a magician.
“Why are you here?” she asked again.
The woman replied, “For the sake of your child, Beith. I can help him.”
“Gilwyn? Gilwyn needs no help.”
“Does he not?” asked the woman. “I have heard about him. He is deformed, quite probably crippled. He is not well, dear Beith. But I have a safe place for him.”
“No,” said Beith. “Lionkeep is a safe place for him.”
A sympathetic expression lingered on the stranger’s face. “If only that were so,” she sighed. “Your child is not like others. He may not be safe here in the castle, or anywhere in Liiria. But I know a place where all like him are safe. I can take him there.”
“What is this place?” Beith asked. Vaguely her memory returned, recalling a story she had heard as a little girl.
“It is a secret place, far from here, far across a desert. There are people like me there, and people like your child.”
“Magical people?”
The woman’s smile dimmed. “Yes, all right. Magical people.”
Suddenly a memory bloomed in Beith’s mind. She gasped, “You’re the Witch of Grimhold.”
“No,” said the woman. “I am no witch.”
“You are,” Beith insisted. “My mother told me the story, when I was very young.”
“Your mother was mistaken,” said the woman. She closed her eyes for a moment and seemed to be concentrating. The awesome calm within Beith increased. As quickly as she had recalled the old legend, she forgot it.
“Now, tell me,” the woman continued. “Will you let me take your child? I will look after him for you. I will take him to a place where no one will harm or ridicule him.”
Beith struggled to stay awake. “There’s no need. Gilwyn is safe here. The king has promised it.”
“The new king?”
“Yes, Akeela. He’s told me this very day that Gilwyn is safe here. He will always have a place here in Lionkeep. It is the king’s promise.”
For a moment the woman said nothing. She turned away, considering the moon outside the window. “I have heard about your new king,” she said at last. “I have heard that he is very good; very wise.”
“He is good. And he has been kind to me and my baby.”
“And he will look after your child, even when he is grown?”
“He will.”
“Even if he is crippled?”
“Yes.”
“And simple?”
Beith hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes, even then.”
There was no sound from the stranger. The light from her amulet lit her face, revealing concern. Beith, still in the hold of the bewitchment, couldn’t help but smile at the tiny figure who for some reason was concerned about her little boy. She reached out for the amulet around her neck, but the little woman pulled gently away.
“What is that you wear?” asked Beith.
The woman smiled down at her amulet. “This is Inai ka Vala,” she replied. “You would call it the Eye of God.”
“God? What god?”
“You are full of questions, Beith.” The tiny
To her surprise, Beith wasn’t afraid. She knew—somehow—that no harm had come to Gilwyn. She squinted at the little woman and saw her multicolored coat swirling as if it were alive.
“Are you magical?” she asked.
The question delighted the intruder. “Why, yes I am.”
“I’m not afraid. But I should be. Am I under a bewitchment?”
The woman floated closer, until she and Beith were standing face to face. Only they weren’t really, because Beith towered over the stranger. The woman looked up at Beith. She seemed to be studying her.
“Let us talk.” She gestured toward the bed. “Sit.”
Beith heard the warnings in her mind, telling her to run and to rescue Gilwyn, yet the voices were very faint, pushed way back in her brain. So instead of running, Beith obeyed the stranger, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She noticed the amulet around the woman’s neck, glowing ruby red. The remarkable coat she wore no longer swam with life, yet Beith knew she was in the power of a magician.
“Why are you here?” she asked again.
The woman replied, “For the sake of your child, Beith. I can help him.”
“Gilwyn? Gilwyn needs no help.”
“Does he not?” asked the woman. “I have heard about him. He is deformed, quite probably crippled. He is not well, dear Beith. But I have a safe place for him.”
“No,” said Beith. “Lionkeep is a safe place for him.”
A sympathetic expression lingered on the stranger’s face. “If only that were so,” she sighed. “Your child is not like others. He may not be safe here in the castle, or anywhere in Liiria. But I know a place where all like him are safe. I can take him there.”
“What is this place?” Beith asked. Vaguely her memory returned, recalling a story she had heard as a little girl.
“It is a secret place, far from here, far across a desert. There are people like me there, and people like your child.”
“Magical people?”
The woman’s smile dimmed. “Yes, all right. Magical people.”
Suddenly a memory bloomed in Beith’s mind. She gasped, “You’re the Witch of Grimhold.”
“No,” said the woman. “I am no witch.”
“You are,” Beith insisted. “My mother told me the story, when I was very young.”
“Your mother was mistaken,” said the woman. She closed her eyes for a moment and seemed to be concentrating. The awesome calm within Beith increased. As quickly as she had recalled the old legend, she forgot it.
“Now, tell me,” the woman continued. “Will you let me take your child? I will look after him for you. I will take him to a place where no one will harm or ridicule him.”
Beith struggled to stay awake. “There’s no need. Gilwyn is safe here. The king has promised it.”
“The new king?”
“Yes, Akeela. He’s told me this very day that Gilwyn is safe here. He will always have a place here in Lionkeep. It is the king’s promise.”
For a moment the woman said nothing. She turned away, considering the moon outside the window. “I have heard about your new king,” she said at last. “I have heard that he is very good; very wise.”
“He is good. And he has been kind to me and my baby.”
“And he will look after your child, even when he is grown?”
“He will.”
“Even if he is crippled?”
“Yes.”
“And simple?”
Beith hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes, even then.”
There was no sound from the stranger. The light from her amulet lit her face, revealing concern. Beith, still in the hold of the bewitchment, couldn’t help but smile at the tiny figure who for some reason was concerned about her little boy. She reached out for the amulet around her neck, but the little woman pulled gently away.
“What is that you wear?” asked Beith.
The woman smiled down at her amulet. “This is Inai ka Vala,” she replied. “You would call it the Eye of God.”
“God? What god?”
“You are full of questions, Beith.” The tiny
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