The Reader by Traci Chee Read Free Book Online Page A

But when he needed it, there was always this double vision. He needed to concentrate to divide his consciousness between the physical world and the shining one beneath it, and he always came up sick to his stomach, as if he’d swallowed too much seawater, but in the worst of times this extra sense got him paid and kept him fed, and he was more than a little proud of it.
    He could look at the detail on a patched sleeve and watch its history unfold before him in scattered images: old mottled hands sewing in the guttering candlelight, a grandfather on his deathbed, a journey to the capital to register his passing with the Historians in the Hall of Memory.
    If he examined the empty setting on an old brooch, he’d see what happened to the missing gem: a miserly master, a midnight theft, a pawnbroker, ailing children, and draughts of foul-smelling medicine.
    Lon blinked, and his extra sense swam into focus. Bands of gold flooded over the old man’s head and shoulders, streaming down his arms to his slender hands, where they pooled with meaning.
    And he knew why Erastis had come.
    â€œThis is only the third time in the past decade that you’ve left home, but someone named Edmon said it was important.” Lon passed a hand across his face, surprised. “He said
I
was important. He said you’d want to meet me. ‘Because the Library has been without an Apprentice for too long.’”
    Lon blinked again, and his extra sense ebbed out of him. The light disappeared, leaving him swaying slightly as he fought off the dizziness, the nausea. “What’s a Library? How’d he know where I was in the first place?”
    â€œYour gifts.” Erastis tucked his hair behind his ears and leaned forward. “Other people are born with talents like yours. You’ve heard of them, I’m sure: seers, conjurers, makers of magic weapons. Most legendary figures have some sort of ability that makes them noteworthy.”
    Lon beamed. “Like the man with the strength of an ox? Like the jeweler who made the Cursed Diamonds of Lady Delune?”
    â€œThey’re amateurs compared to us. We can teach you to use your gifts with the precision of a scalpel.”
    â€œWho
are
you?”
    â€œWe are a society of readers.” Erastis smiled. “People like you.”
    Readers.
Lon tested the word on his tongue, though the reverence in the old man’s voice kept him from saying it aloud.
    â€œWe were formed long ago,” the old man continued, “before any of the Historians can remember, when each wave of history erased everything that had come before. All was chaos and darkness, and into that darkness we became the light, charged with the protection of all the citizens of Kelanna.”
    Lon frowned. Ever since the resolution of the blood feud between the Ken and Alissar provinces, Deliene had been doing all right, but every day he heard news of war in Everica, of famine and ruination in Liccaro, the Desert Kingdom. “You’re not doing a great job of it, are you?”
    â€œEh, you try protecting an entire world from itself.”
    â€œIsn’t that why you’re here?”
    â€œTrue.” Erastis smiled ruefully. “We have great plans for you.”
    He described the wondrous feats of magic Lon could achieve if he joined them. They’d walk among the mountains and across seas, like the adventurers and outlaws that filled his daydreams, all oceans and sailing ships and
pop
s of gunfire. Their deeds would bring peace to an unstable world, preserved in legend among the stars.
    â€œThere’s never been peace like that. Not once,” Lon pointed out.
    â€œThere will be.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œWe have the Book.”
    Lon hadn’t known what the Book was, but he could feel his path forking before him: Down one path was the life of a street performer, spinning fortunes for spare change. Maybe one day his parents would take him with