The Rival of Gods

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Heaven's Eye

The wilderness passed them with surprising speed. The Wolven Forest was a dark place of dense foliage and many gleaming eyes in darkness. They heard the sound of howling wolves, but nothing barred their way or sought to attack them. When Sahshir sensed them, the spirits did not even know they were there.

Tuor had cast a spell that helped them slip beneath the notice of spirits, or so he said. It involved several runes, which he meditated on now and then. But no one felt like talking, and they had one or two close run-ins with the woodsmen. They saw them dressed in gray and moving through the trees like shadows. But they should have noticed Tuor.

Even so, a shadow was growing on their minds. Isamu, in particular, was restless, often pacing this way and that in camp. Oresa spent her time knitting repairs to clothes, though Sahshir handled his own. Urus meditated while Cadas just sat on a stump and thought.

"Now, once we get the Heaven's Eye, how do we escape?" asked Isamu.

"An escape by land will be useless to us," said Tuor. "Fortunately, I've made arrangements with Adrianeth. He has contacts with certain cults in Seathorius, referred to by some as the Dark Nakmar. They worship the Demonic Archons rather than Baltoth of the Dreaming Goddess."

"And they are helping us?" asked Urus.

"Yes, a vessel is coming down even now," said Tuor. "Adrianeth has given me the meeting place, and once we get there, we will board it."

"What makes you think they won't take the Eye for themselves?" asked Isamu.

"Demons cannot abide the Heaven's Eye," said Tuor. "No doubt its very presence shall pain them. And they would be incapable of using it anyway. Moreover, the Demonic Archons stand to gain by the defeat of the Heir of Kings, do they not."

"Of course," said Isamu.

"Then they benefit from our presence," said Tuor. "Baltoth is a far more reasonable actor than a potential heir of Anoa the Bright."

"Demons are not reasonable," said Sahshir, liking this all less with every day. "Night is coming on."

"Good," said Tuor. "Then we'll rest when we get there. In the morning, we'll make our plans."

Sahshir, for his part, was altogether sick of this mission. He wanted to be back home, where he could make real changes. Tuor had grand designs, but Sahshir began to suspect they would not have much effect. He told himself that the possibility of being healed would be worth the risk.

Still, he now regarded this quest as a chore. Far less dangerous than his other missions. Dearly, he wanted to return home to Kalthak, speak with Narcissa, and mind his own home and affairs. If he could tend to his wounds, so be it.

It was almost anticlimactic when they finally came out of the forests and into sight of Gel Carn. The fortress seemed far more ordinary. Seeing the villages near it only detracted from the menace.

"At last," said Tuor. "Gel Carn."

"The fortress... it's different," said Oresa thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Nagos.

"Before, it was dark and horrible," said Oresa, "but now it seems to have shifted to become a little more normal."

"That was part of the enchantment put on it by Gwendoven," said Tuor. "Gel Carn shifts in appearance based on the thoughts of the one who looks at it.

"However, the illusion fades as you gaze at it more."

They spent the night there, resting beneath the stars. It was cold here, far colder than Kalthak, paining Sahshir's body. He felt old and bitter and went to sleep as soon as possible.