The Seeing Stone by Kevin Crossley-Holland Read Free Book Online Page B

around the other, and stretched the blade between the joints of his thumbs, and blew on it so that it whistled.
    â€œAnd the king is dying,” said Merlin. “You see? Strange things will happen.”
    â€œHow do you know he is?” I asked.
    Merlin didn’t answer my question. What he did was unfasten his cloak, and pull out of an inside pocket a dusty saffron bundle. Then he slowly began to unwind the cloth.
    â€œWhat is it?” I asked.
    â€œA gift,” said Merlin.
    Inside the cloth was a flat black stone. It was four-cornered, and its span was just a little larger than Merlin’s outstretched hand. One face of the stone was lumpen and covered with little white spots and patches, but when Merlin turned it over, the other side was smooth and glossy. It flashed in the sunlight.
    â€œTake it!” said Merlin.
    When I stared at the stone, I could see myself inside it. It was black of black, and deep, and very still. Like an eye of deep water.
    â€œA mirror,” I said.
    â€œNot really,” said Merlin.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œA gift.”
    â€œI mean, what is it for?”
    Merlin shrugged.
    â€œWhat kind of stone is it?”
    â€œIt is made of ice and fire,” Merlin said. “Its name is obsidian.”
    â€œObsidian?”
    â€œIt’s time for you to have it,” Merlin replied. “It’s time for me to let it go.”
    â€œWhat is it for?” I asked again.
    â€œThat depends on you,” Merlin said. “Only you can tell. It’s like your number.”
    â€œNine,” I said. “I think it’s nine.”
    â€œIt’s like that,” repeated Merlin. “The stone is not what I say it is. It’s what you see in it.”
    I turned the flat stone over and over between my hands.
    â€œThe shape,” I said. “It reminds me of something. Lots of things. A wolf skull, almost. Or look! The spread of the manor lands below us. I don’t know. The big bruise on the face of the moon.”
    â€œIt is for you,” Merlin said gravely.
    â€œBut what…”
    â€œWhat I can tell you is this,” Merlin said. “From this moment, here on Tumber Hill, until the day you die, you will never own anything as precious as this.”
    I held the stone with both my hands. “What if it breaks?” I asked.
    â€œIt won’t,” said Merlin. “Not if you drop it! But you must guard this stone. No one must know you own it…”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œâ€¦or see it, or learn anything about it.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Merlin smiled gently. “You must keep the stone to yourself until you discover its power. Until you understand its meaning. Otherwise, it will not be of much use to you. Come on now—down into the world again!”
    In my writing-room, snails and beetles and spiders and lice live in most of the little gaps and cracks between the blocks of dressed stone; but there is one gap which is empty, and a fingerspan wide, so that is where I have decided to hide Merlin’s gift.
    No one comes up here except for me. And even if they did, they wouldn’t notice a dusty cloth bundle stuffed deep into the wall.
    My rough-and-shining stone! My dark halo! My strange obsidian!

21
LANCE AND LONGBOW
    I T’S NOT MEANT TO BE EASY,” SAID MY FATHER.
    â€œIt’s impossible,” I said.
    â€œYour cousin Tom can do it, can’t he?”
    â€œYes, father.”
    â€œWell! He’s only a year older than you.”
    â€œI could do it left-handed,” I said.
    â€œNo boy in this manor will do anything left-handed. It’s not natural. You know that.”
    â€œI could, though.”
    â€œI’ll show you again,” my father said. “Nothing worthwhile is ever easy.” Then he set off for the marker, polishing the shaft of his lance against his right thigh. Before he turned, he rubbed the palm of his right hand on his tunic, and