The Paper Sword by Robert Priest Read Free Book Online Page A

certain way to form a special kind of fighting unit called a dyad, or warrior beloveds.” Her eyes veered close to his, slightly bemused, and he continued. “It was believed that when two warriors loved one another deeply it gave them together a much greater strength than any two warriors who were not beloveds.” He shrugged. “Usually they are a man and a woman, but it can also be two men or two women. It is an ancient and honoured tradition.”
    She took a moment to think about it, then she said, “It seems like it will have a happy ending. I hope she finds him.” She smiled, and for once as her eyes skidded by she allowed them to connect directly with his for a second. Xemion almost gasped as the two glints of green ricocheted down into his soul.
    Saheli took in a deep breath. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking I’d better explain something …” she said, and Xemion thought she must surely be about to address the issue of betrothal. “I’ve been thinking, and …” But just then Chiricoru, who had received the story’s ending with an unusually puzzled expression on her face, started to crow and peck at the door. “All right, Chiricoru,” Saheli said, shaking her head. Then she whispered, “She wants to visit Anya’s … place.” In her normal tone she said to the bird, “I’ll let you out.”
    As they disappeared down the stairs, Xemion got the tweezers and retrieved the tiny book from the bottom of the projector. Holding the locket in his palm he bowed his head in close and attempted, unsuccessfully, to slide the book into the one remaining slot at the topmost point of the gorehorse’s horn. He hadn’t realized how much his hand was shaking. He looked at his palm and wondered if it was slightly redder than normal. He bit his bottom lip, gripped the tweezers firmly, focused his mind, and in one smooth motion slid the tiny book into its awaiting slot. The image of the gorehorse was now complete. He gazed at it with sad satisfaction. This was the locket’s fourth image and the fourth cycle of stories, but the first one for which he’d done all the recitation. He thought of Anya, who had read the first three cycles to him, and tears rose a little in his throat. On her deathbed Anya had not only repented of beating him but also of teaching him to read. It would get him into trouble she had said as she lay dying. But Xemion replied that he had no fear of Pathan overlords and was more than glad that he could read. In fact, he said, he would always be thankful to her no matter what it might one day cost him.
    He was just about to close the locket when he noticed what was happening inside it. Somehow the backs of the books that created the image of the gorehorse had begun to change colour. As he watched, this shuffling of colours resolved itself into an image of the Great Kone of Ulde. And it was turning! Xemion did not share Saheli’s horror of spellcraft, but this alarmed him and he began trying to imagine what kind of mechanism or chemistry could possibly accomplish such a thing. In the midst of this, tiny letters began to appear on one side of the kone’s upper rim as it revolved. They then spiralled around and down to its narrow bottom end where they seemed to roll off the point and disappear from sight. A second later the first of the words reappeared at the top of the kone and the process was repeated. “A riddle!” he said to himself. He’d almost forgotten. Years ago, after Anya had read him the first cycle of stories, the locket had posed a riddle. Xemion squinted but the words were too tiny to be read.
    â€œSaheli!” he yelled, “Do you have the magnifying glass?”
    â€œWhat?” came the distant reply from outside.
    â€œCan you please bring the magnifying glass? You must see what’s happening.”
    â€œBut I’m watching Chiricoru.”
    â€œShe’ll be