The First Stone by Mark Anthony Read Free Book Online

arranged the pieces, fitting them together with motions that seemed too skilled for such tiny hands.
    The girl looked up at Travis. “Make it whole.”
    He was too startled to do anything but kneel beside her and place a hand on the broken plate.
    “
Eru
,” he said, trying to gather all the force of his will into the word.
    He heard a chorus of voices echo the word in his mind. Only the chorus became a dissonant chord. The familiar
whoosh
of magic in his ears ceased, and he felt a wrenching sensation deep inside. He lifted his hand. The shards of the plate had fused together into a melted gray blob.
    The girl frowned. “It didn’t work right.”
    “No, it didn’t.” Travis held a hand to his throbbing head. Both Vani and Beltan glanced at him, her expression curious, his concerned.
    The girl moved to Beltan, took one of his big hands, and curled her own hand inside it. “Hello, Father.”
    Beltan’s expression transformed into one of wonder, and his hand closed reflexively—gently—around the girl’s. She turned, her eyes on Travis now. They were gray, like her dress, but flecked with gold.
    “Hello, Father,” she said again.
    Travis couldn’t speak. For so long he had wondered if she was fair-haired or dark, if she had all her fingers and toes; he had tried to picture what she would look like, the image in his mind changing a little with each passing month. Now she was here, so much like he had imagined, and utterly different, and he had no idea what to say to her.
    Beltan knelt, laid a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a solemn look. “What is your name, child?”
    Her look was as serious as his. “My name is Nim.”
    Again the voices spoke in Travis’s mind, echoing the name. Only it wasn’t just a name, it was a rune.
    “
Nim
,” Travis murmured. “Hope.” He moved toward Vani. “Did you name her that?”
    The girl—Nim—laughed, all traces of seriousness gone. “Don’t be silly, Father,” she said. “You did.”
    “I told her she was my greatest hope,” the
T’gol
said to Travis, “and that it was you who told me the ancient word for hope was
Nim
.”
    Travis tried to clear the lump from his throat. “You spoke about me—about us—often?”
    Vani nodded. “As soon as she could speak—which was quite early—she always wanted to know everything I could tell her about you both. She can be quite . . . persistent.”
    “You’re very brave, and your father was a king,” Nim said, pointing at Beltan, then she pointed at Travis. “And you’re a great wizard.”
    Travis glanced down at the melted plate, and his stomach churned.
    “Nim,” Vani said, kneeling beside the girl, touching her arms, “why don’t you go play in the bedroom for a while?”
    The girl heaved a dramatic sigh for the obvious benefit of Travis and Beltan. “That means she wants to say things to you that I’m not supposed to hear.”
    “Yes,” Vani said, gold eyes flashing, “it does.” She turned Nim around and gave her a gentle but firm push toward the hallway. Nim made a show of dragging her small black shoes on the floor, then vanished into the bedroom. The door shut behind her.
    “So now what?” Travis said, his voice going hard.
    Both Vani and Beltan stared at him.
    Travis had always imagined that, if this moment somehow ever came, he would feel immeasurable joy. And for a moment he had. It was good to know Nim’s name, to know she was whole and healthy and beautiful. Only that moment was over, and now anger oozed from Travis, hot and thick, like blood from a reopened wound.
    “You can’t do this, Vani.”
    “Do what?”
    “What you’re doing.” He clenched his hands into fists and advanced on the
T’gol
. “Don’t you understand? We’ve been happy here. For three years, we’ve been just fine without you.”
    “Travis . . .” Beltan started to say, laying a hand on his shoulder, but Travis shook it off.
    “We didn’t have a choice,” he said, moving in until his face was inches