He was different. That much Mogget knew from the start. The way the podgy, soft hand reached for his collar was what made him see it; no true Abhorsen would ever come near him with such a lack of fear. Even at only a few months old they would approach him with wariness, as if sensing the hostility their ancestors had installed in him. But not this child.
So maybe the Abhorsen blood wasn't strong in him, maybe it was the royal line that was dominant. But no, even at early ages they would start displaying the traits and this hand was neither impetuous nor imperative.
It was the eyes that sealed the deal; not wary, not fearful and not commanding, no, all that came through in those dazzlingly innocent eyes was curiosity. A deep, consuming curiosity that Mogget hadn't seen in a long time.
But the baby's screams demanded milk and its whimpers at the approaching gore crows showed it had a death sense, like all the others he'd served. So Mogget put it down to a late developing baby and slunk off to Ranna's realm.
The second time Mogget saw him he recognised him at once, though a few years had passed and he had aged as humans were want to do. He'd just stolen the fool's fish and the man had the nerve to get angry at him! The years with a crown on his head had obviously made him even more pompous.
This time the child hadn't reached for his collar (pity) as he had probably been warned (several times) by his mother. But the eyes were the same. Still no fear, still no haughtiness, just silver distances of the same blinding innocence, and-of course-innocence as before. Mogget made a note to keep an eye of this one.
The next time their paths crossed was in - to humans - many years time and in less than desirable circumstances. He had an adult's body and his parent's height now, but the hair was still the same. And the eyes. Somehow he'd managed to retain all the innocence of before and, if anything, his curiosity appeared to have grown.
He was a fool; staring at Mogget with surprised but trusting eyes. Didn't the boy realise that with the Abhorsen out of the kingdom and himself so weak and pathetic there was nothing stopping him from killing him then and there? But he didn't and even now he could not think why.
Maybe it was because Astariel and Saraneth did not appear to be strong in him as in his ancestors, just enough for a death sense and to be able to call Mogget to aid him. Maybe it was because he was such a mystery, and for the first time in centuries Mogget was interested. Or maybe it was those eyes. They reminded him of someone, something, long, long ago…
Whatever it was' Mogget ended up accompanying him. The damn curiosity remained in the boy's eyes as he examined the world around him, even as it crashed and burned, not as though he owned it and not as with suspicion. He requested a look at Mogget and the Dog's collars (some things, and people, never change) and eventually other things came into his eyes; comfort and reliance. That scared Mogget, for who before had ever looked at him like that? This was no Abhorsen-in-training, this was something far more rare, far more special.
The mystery was solved for him at the Abhorsen's house. AWallmaker. A kingdom builder. A child of Belgaer. Of course. For who else had ever trusted him? That trust, that faith. It made him want to cry, he never thought he'd see that again.
Belgaer had never asked anything of him. Not to join the shiners as they defeated Orannis, not to become part of their new order. Like this boy he let him do the deciding. But if he'd ever asked Mogget was sure things would have worked out differently; maybe there'd even have been an eighth bell.
But like Belgaer he wouldn't be around forever. He'd eventually pass to Asterael's realm, like all other mortals, or he'd give himself to his cause, like Belgaer, and those eyes would be gone. No, Mogget couldn't take that again, he refused.
So Prince Sameth provided yet another mystery for Mogget to solve. And one that had a time limit. A race until his heart stopped beating.