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The Blinding Knife(242)



“Well done, Nerra,” Gavin said. She looked embarrassed. “You’ve saved a lot of lives today.”

“But my lord, you made it a hundred times better.”

“So I saved lives, too,” Gavin said. “We’re a team, right?” He smiled at her and she blushed.

Gavin moved to get onto his own sea chariot. It was slightly modified from the earlier versions. Another experiment. He was always experimenting. A young Blackguard was standing there to hold the boat steady when Gavin pulled it loose of the rest. It was Gavin Greyling.

It felt like a sledge hit the center of Gavin’s chest. He met the eyes of the young man who’d lied to save his life. “I’ll try to be worthy of it,” Gavin said quietly.

The young Blackguard said nothing. His face showed nothing.

Gavin got on his sea chariot. He wanted to give more orders and advice to Commander Ironfist, but the man knew what he was doing. He would do the maximum damage with the minimum loss of life possible. He didn’t need Gavin to tell him how to do that. So Gavin left.

He sped across the seas, which today were a great deal calmer than they had been yesterday. That fact alone would probably save more of the Blackguards than Nerra’s and Gavin’s invention.

For Gavin, it didn’t mean much except that his trip was somewhat smoother and faster than it would have been.

The sun was past its zenith when Gavin turned the skimmer into the bay at Seers Island. He could see that his seawall was still in excellent order, and there were dozens of fishing dories out in the bay. People waved at him, greeting him like a returning hero. There was a town on the shore now, the jungle had been pushed back, and alongside temporary shacks, more permanent buildings were under construction. There were even farms.

The change was profound. Gavin wasn’t sure why he was surprised, but he was. He hadn’t even been gone very long, but he’d helped establish the fundamentals. They’d warehoused the tens of thousands of yellow bricks he’d made, and they’d obviously been putting them to good use. Fifty thousand people with purpose, good leadership, and all the tools they needed could do a lot of work in a short time. What didn’t surprise him was that the Third Eye was waiting for him on the beach.

Being a Seer must be terribly handy.

Which was why he was here. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He was going into battle and he’d spent—perhaps wasted was more accurate—several days scouting out their positions. While he knew a Seer. A True Seer who didn’t couch what she saw in mystical jargon and vague pronouncements.

Gavin beached the skimmer and jumped lightly onto the sand. The Third Eye was dressed in a simple white dress, belted with a golden sash. She’d once said that she was usually modest. It was, he’d come to see, actually true. She held a hand out, and Gavin kissed it. She smiled, delighted, and Gavin thought there was something softer about her this time.

“My apologies about last time,” she said.

“My lady?”

“If I spoiled your marriage for you, the last time you washed up on my beach. I try to not ruin futures for people, but I was under some stress. I make mistakes.”

Gavin looked at her radiant face and was glad she had reminded him he was a married man. He was terribly in love with Karris, but this woman tugged at him on several layers beneath the rational. “Me, too,” he said. He knuckled his forehead. “Just exactly how much do you…”

“Hold on, Corvan is right down on the pier. I think he’s been so busy he may not have seen you come in.”

She offered her arm and he took it, escorting her through the crowds. The people noticed, and they stared, and many of them bobbed their heads to both of them, but Gavin knew this kind of deference. It was the kind of respect men on campaign give to their general. The protocol peeled back to its bare, necessary layers. These people were hard at work, and they had worked alongside the Third Eye for months. They adored and respected her, maybe loved her, but they had work to do.

And she had no bodyguards now. That spoke either to an unprecedented level of peace here or perhaps to her prescience. Hard to kill a Seer, one would guess.

They walked together out to the pier, where Corvan Danavis was speaking to three men who were gesturing to what appeared to be plans for a shipyard.

He turned and looked shocked. He ran—literally ran—over to Gavin and embraced him. Gavin loved him for that. He embraced his one true friend hard, and then released him. “Corvan, you old dog, you look well.”

Corvan was growing out his mustache again, though it wasn’t yet long enough to dangle beads in. He looked ten years younger. “Do you know how hard it is to negotiate with people who can see the future, Lord Prism? I can’t believe you did this to me. But yes, I suppose that working twenty hours a day agrees with me. Or perhaps it’s the company I get to keep during the other four.” He grinned.