around the other, and stretched the blade between the joints of his thumbs, and blew on it so that it whistled.
âAnd the king is dying,â said Merlin. âYou see? Strange things will happen.â
âHow do you know he is?â I asked.
Merlin didnât 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.
âWhat is it?â I asked.
âA gift,â said Merlin.
Inside the cloth was a flat black stone. It was four-cornered, and its span was just a little larger than Merlinâs 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.
âTake it!â 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.
âA mirror,â I said.
âNot really,â said Merlin.
âWhat is it?â
âA gift.â
âI mean, what is it for?â
Merlin shrugged.
âWhat kind of stone is it?â
âIt is made of ice and fire,â Merlin said. âIts name is obsidian.â
âObsidian?â
âItâs time for you to have it,â Merlin replied. âItâs time for me to let it go.â
âWhat is it for?â I asked again.
âThat depends on you,â Merlin said. âOnly you can tell. Itâs like your number.â
âNine,â I said. âI think itâs nine.â
âItâs like that,â repeated Merlin. âThe stone is not what I say it is. Itâs what you see in it.â
I turned the flat stone over and over between my hands.
âThe shape,â I said. âIt reminds me of something. Lots of things. A wolf skull, almost. Or look! The spread of the manor lands below us. I donât know. The big bruise on the face of the moon.â
âIt is for you,â Merlin said gravely.
âBut whatâ¦â
âWhat I can tell you is this,â Merlin said. âFrom this moment, here on Tumber Hill, until the day you die, you will never own anything as precious as this.â
I held the stone with both my hands. âWhat if it breaks?â I asked.
âIt wonât,â said Merlin. âNot if you drop it! But you must guard this stone. No one must know you own itâ¦â
âWhy not?â
ââ¦or see it, or learn anything about it.â
âWhy not?â
Merlin smiled gently. âYou 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 nowâdown into the world again!â
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 Merlinâs gift.
No one comes up here except for me. And even if they did, they wouldnât 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 TâS NOT MEANT TO BE EASY,â SAID MY FATHER.
âItâs impossible,â I said.
âYour cousin Tom can do it, canât he?â
âYes, father.â
âWell! Heâs only a year older than you.â
âI could do it left-handed,â I said.
âNo boy in this manor will do anything left-handed. Itâs not natural. You know that.â
âI could, though.â
âIâll show you again,â my father said. âNothing worthwhile is ever easy.â 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