Glasswrights' Progress by Mindy L Klasky Read Free Book Online Page A

disintegrated into childish argument.
    Shea raised a hand to her aching eyes, shaking her head as she stumbled to the doorway of the small house. The night was flooded with light. The moon was full, so brilliant that it nearly drowned out the Lion.
    As Shea listened to the wind in the trees at the edge of her clearing, she was carried back to a time when all the skychildren had known their places. Back when Bram and Pom and Larina had still been alive, when she had not been responsible for this motley crew, for this tangle of right and wrong and maybe. Long ago, the king had been a good man, a man who provided for his people, even if he did sit on his throne, leagues and leagues away. No one had feared the king in those days, before the Uprising.
    Shea closed her eyes, and she remembered Larina’s childish laughter, her joy at the world around her. The little girl had thrown her arms around Shea’s neck each morning, her silver-marked cheek smooth against Shea’s sun-starred one. Even now, the woman could feel Larina inside her breath, inside her bones, and for just an instant, Shea heard her daughter whisper in her ear. “I love you, Mummy. I know you’ll always be here for me.”
    Before Shea could answer, she was jerked back to her cottage. For an instant, she thought it was her own dreams that had pulled her, but then she heard the muffled cry again. She was at Crestman’s side before the other children could reach him.
    The young soldier was lashed to the one sturdy chair in the hut, his arms pulled tight behind him. A rag was bound across his eyes, and a gag slashed his parched lips. He moaned and rocked his chair back and forth, dreaming.
    â€œHush,” she crooned, resting her chapped hand against his cheek. “Hush, little lion. It’s all right. You’re in my hut, here with your brothers and sisters. You’ll be fine. You’ll be safe.”
    Crestman quieted beneath her soothing touch, never fully waking. Shea sat by his chair long into the night, rocking back and forth and thinking of Pom. Thinking of her lost son, who had been among the first wave of children sucked into the whirlwind of King Sin Hazar’s schemes, after the Uprising had been put down. Shea thought of the wise men in the village who had first decided to rebel against their king because of taxes, because of cold, hard money . She thought of starvation and honor and helpless, hopeless children.
    The next morning, Hartley confronted Shea as Tain served up bowls of acorn porridge. Shea knew the gruel was bitter, but at least she could put something in each of the small bellies beneath her roof. She scavenged an extra bowl and started to carry it to Crestman.
    â€œThe prisoner may not eat.” Hartley’s voice was flat.
    â€œNonsense! He’s a growing boy!”
    â€œHe’s a growing boy who would have killed you. You risk our safety and your own if you feed him.”
    â€œHartley, I can’t let him starve to death. I’d be no better than King Sin Hazar.”
    â€œTorino,” Hartley appealed.
    The owl chimed in immediately. “The lion speaks the truth, Sunwoman. That soldier intended to kill us. To kill us and steal our food.”
    â€œBut what –” Shea almost stopped, overwhelmed by the notion that she – a
sunwoman – was debating an owl. “What if he wasn’t deserting? I thought he was. It
looked like he was. But what if he was just gathering troops to bring to King Sin Hazar?”
    â€œIs that any better?” Torino cocked his head to one side, and he sounded honestly
curious about Shea’s thoughts.
    â€œThat means he’s not a bad person. He’s merely trying to do as his king commands. He’s merely trying to recruit the Little Army.”
    â€œBut his king would command him to take all the boys. And Serena too.”
    Of course King Sin Hazar wanted the boys – whatever their skysign. And he wanted Serena.