The hut had room for a bed, a nightstand, and little else. The only other object in the room was a great glass eye. It rested on the nightstand, with its golden iris facing the door.
“Guess `at hwere one of ‘ers.” Grady pointed at the eye, “hWe’ll need ta hwait until Lord Glove is back before moving hit.”
Lanet nodded, “You hear that Î? Don’t touch.”
Grady grunted, “Doubt `e heye hwill move. `s you hwho shouldn’t be touchin`”
“I was speaking to her,” Lanet pointed at his daughter, “Her name is Î.”
“hAh, hI see, haye,” Grady chuckled, “hEye see. hIcy. hÎ, see? Funny hinnit?”
Lanet’s eyes strained with myopic humour, “Yes. Yes it is.”
Grady grinned at Lanet, “hI’ll leave hit ta ye `en haye? hI? No yer daughter can stay ‘ere. hIt’s me leavin`.” He was laughing as he left. Î heard him call to someone else down the street, “Bidden! hWait hup! hWait huntil ye `ere `is h’one!”
Lanet stroked Î’s head, “Thank all which is good for hospitality.”
He checked the sun, “Speaking of which, I’ve some friends to see before dark. Do you want to come?”
Î had to stifle a yawn just thinking of Lanet’s friends. All they did was talk, “No. Your friends are boring. I want to stay here.”
“What’s boring about debating the semantic difference between rubies and sapphires?” he winked at her. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t wander too far. And remember not to touch the eye.”
Î watched Lanet go through the window. She didn’t think his last words had been fair. Why couldn’t she touch the eye? She pursed her lips the way her father had. She guessed the guard was worried she’d break it. She smooshed her nose thoughtfully against the glass. She’d never scratched any of Lanet’s gems, so there was no reason for him to be worried. Maybe he had meant that she should be careful. Î’s face brightened. She could be careful, especially if it meant she could play with the eye. As long as she didn’t damage it, no one would mind.
Once Lanet had disappeared, Î hopped down from the window and went over to the table. Then, just in case, she went back to the door and looked around. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, but she had learned that other people tended to misunderstand her intentions. Fortunately, no one was there. Reassured, Î carefully touched the eye.
It moved.
Î shrieked and leapt away from the eye, falling on her rear. She found herself level with its pupil, for its golden gaze had followed her descent. She could now see that its iris was not a continuous band like she had previously thought. Instead, the ring was composed of a thousand flecks of gold. She squinted. There was something beyond its iris, set deep within the amber glass. Î thought it looked like a mottled candle, or a scroll with its edges burnt.
The eye began to roll toward her. Î’s heart fluttered.
She spoke softly to the eye, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. Lanet had told her strange things were often more afraid of you then you were of them. “Hello, I’m Î. Who are you? It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
The eye responded to her by rolling off the edge of the table. Î snatched for it and missed, banging her forearms against the nightstand. Î winced as the eye crashed into the floor, but the glass appeared unharmed. It started to roll again, heading for the threshold.
“Stop!” Î pushed herself to her feet.
The eye ignored her and rolled out the door.
Î ran after it.
The eye led her from one end of the village to the other. It led her across a meadow with green shoots pushing up through the mud. It led her over a small wooden bridge crossing a stream. Finally, it led her up a long and twisting path to a hideous shack full of dead rodents.
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Î gulped greedily at the rat infused air as she ran. She almost had the eye. It had nowhere left to go. Just a few more steps and—There was a stairway at the back of the shack. The eye rolled down it.
As it did so, a faint howl rose from the stairs’ depths. Î stumbled to a halt at the edge of the first step and peered over nervously, still sucking in air. The path was dark and obscured by smoke. Shadows capered along the walls. Water dripped steadily onto the steps. A high pitched scream suddenly replaced the howling. Î jumped, stumbled, and caught herself on a slime covered wall. The scream cut off a moment later, replaced with a low sobbing.
Î’s panting quickened. She didn’t want to go down there. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying. It wasn’t even her fault the eye had run away. How was she supposed to know it could move? And, she thought, I ruined my dress chasing it. It had been so pretty, and now it was wet and covered in mud. A lump formed in her throat as she pulled her wet dress from where it clung to her legs. She had ruined it. If she didn’t get the eye back it’d all be for nothing. And she’d get in trouble. The big red-faced guardsman would be furious. And Lanet… Lanet didn’t get angry, but he got sad, which was worse. Î pushed the thought away. She felt bad thinking of it.
She’d rather see whatever was making all the noise than have Lanet be sad at her.
“Okay.” She said. It was what Lanet said when he was thinking. He had told her it was a reminder. He’d said the truth of the situation was often better than he imagined.
“Okay.”
The stairs were covered in slippery mud. She’d need some form of support to help her get down them.
“Okay.”
Î found a rusty sword propped against a sagging wall in the shack. She pretended she didn’t notice the wall sag further when she took it. It would do. Î figured she could also use it as a weapon if she was attacked by any monsters.
“Okay.”
Î shuffled over to the lip of the stairs. She hoped going down them wasn’t as dangerous as it looked.
“Okay.”
She tested the first step with her sword. It was mostly made of muck and slime, but there was also a patch of solid ground. She stepped down onto it.
“Okay.”
Î repeated the process on the next step, and the next.
“Okay.”
The air got cooler as Î descended. By the time she reached the bottom, goosebumps had risen on her arms and legs and she was shivering violently. She knew she would freeze solid if she didn’t keep moving. Thankfully, the ground was flat here, and relatively dry. Î set off down the tunnel at a light jog.
The run warmed her, but her teeth were still chattering by the time she was brought up short by a mossy wooden door. Î pulled her arms into the sleeves of her dress as she studied it.
The door had no handle nor hinges, yet still stood, as if suspended in place. If that wasn’t strange enough, someone had carved runes all over the door. Most were obscured by moss, but Î still recognized one. She traced it with her finger and whispered its name, “Strength.”
A damp wind sighed past Î, brushing her hair across her face.
Î heard a voice on the wind, the same voice which had been howling, “Ahhhh… The kineser approaches,” The door in front of her swung open revealing a table covered in animal corpses. “Enter.”
Î raised her sword and tried to look brave. “Who was that?”
“I am Emet. Please… come in.”
“Do you have the eye?” Î ducked under the table, and looked around. Once again her view was blocked, this time by a stack of wax cylinders wrapped in string.
“Where are you?”
“To your right.”
Î looked. She saw a pile of blue salt and some dead insects. Beyond that she could make out a stack of scrolls. And beyond that… Î rubbed a dirty hand against her eyes. Her view did not change. Beyond the scrolls was an enormous face, carved in the wall. Its eyes were two holes, scooped into the earth. Its mouth was a dark gash, like a farmer’s furrow. As Î watched, it pulled apart, releasing a great stream of dust into the air.
“Ah… You see now. The kineser’s eye chose well.”
“What are you?” Î navigated around a large stack of rune-covered papers. Emet replied with a roar of dust and wind once she was clear. The whole stack went fluttering.
“I am a golem… Built by Rebeka to teach… the arts of the kineser… to you.”
“What’s a golem?”
The wall sighed, though Î could not say why. She wondered if she had offended it, but before she could ask, it continued it strange, halting speech.
“Formless construct given form. Endless strength…Obedient to its creator… none other.”
Î crawled under a bowlegged table stacked high with innumerous metal instruments.
“Girl… the kineser is dead. In need of an heir.”
Î straightened and found herself facing the wrong way. She turned in confusion. She was pretty sure she’d been going in a straight line.
“Is that why the eye chose me?”
The wind was softer this time, and harmonious. Several wires strung between a melted chandelier and a bristleless broom began to sing.
“I was created to teach. Forty-six days remain. You must learn kinesics… history of Rebeka.”
Î ducked under a spear which leaned from a barrel stuffed to breaking with weapons. It creaked and writhed as Î hurried past.
“I can’t. I’ve got to go soon. Lanet and I are peaceseeking.”
Emet let out another long sigh. With the last of its breath it whispered, “Lord Glove will speak… with Lanet. He must.”