Bec Read Online Free PDF Page A

her eyes, stained with blood. But love in her eyes — love for me.
    As I stare, numb with wonder — but no fear — my mother turns and points west, keeping her eyes on mine. She says something but her words don’t carry. With a frown, she jabs a long finger towards the west. She starts to say something else but then the mist clears. She shimmers. I blink. And I’m suddenly looking at the boy again, playing with his flower.
    “Bec,” Conn is saying, shaking me lightly. “Are you all right?”
    I look up, trembling, and think about telling Conn what I saw. Then I decide against it. I’ve never had a vision before. I need time to think about it before I discuss it with anyone. Focusing on the boy, I control my breathing and try to calm my fast heartbeat.
    “I th-think he’s hu-human,” I stutter. “But not the same as us. There’s magic in him. Maybe he’s a druid’s apprentice.” That’s a wild guess, but it’s the closest I can get to explaining what’s different about him.
    “Does he pose a threat?” Conn asks.
    A dangerous question — if I answer wrong, I’ll be held responsible. I think about playing safe and saying I don’t know, but then the boy pulls a petal from the flower and slowly places it on his outstretched tongue. “No,” I say confidently. “He can’t harm us.”
    The gate is opened. Several of us spill out and surround the boy. I’ve been brought along in case he doesn’t speak our language. A priestess is meant to have the gift of tongues. I don’t actually know any other languages, but I don’t see the need to admit that, not unless somebody asks me directly — and so far nobody has. I keep hoping he’ll change and become my mother again, but he doesn’t.
    The boy is thin and dirty, his hair thick and unwashed, his knee-length tunic caked with mud, no cloak or sandals. His eyes dart left and right, never lingering on any one spot for more than a second. He’s carrying a long knife in a scabbard hanging from his belt, but he doesn’t reach for it or show alarm as we gather round him.
    “Boy!” Conn barks, nudging the boy’s knee with his foot. No reaction. “Boy! Who are you? What are you doing here?”
    The boy doesn’t answer. Conn opens his mouth to shout again, then stops. He looks at me and nods. Licking my lips nervously, I crouch beside the strange child. I watch him play with the flower, noting the movements of his eyes and head. I no longer think he’s a druid’s assistant. Conn was right — he’s a simpleton. But one who’s been blessed in some way by the gods.
    “That’s a nice flower,” I murmur.
    The boy’s gaze settles on me for an instant and he grins, then thrusts the flower at me. When I take it, he picks another and holds it above his head, squinting at it.
    “Can you speak?” I ask. “Do you talk?”
    No answer. I’m about to ask again, when he shouts loudly, “Flower!”
    I jump at the sound of his voice. So do the men around me. Then we laugh, embarrassed. The boy looks at us, delighted. “Flower!” he shouts again. Then his smile dwindles. “Demons. Killing. Come with.” He leaps to his feet. “Come with! Run fast!”
    “Wait,” I shush him. “It’s almost night. We can’t go anywhere. The demons will be on the move soon.”
    “Demons!” he cries. “Killing. Come with!” He grabs my hand and hauls me up.
    “Wait,” I tell him again, losing my patience. “What’s your name? Where are you from? Why should we trust you?” The boy stares at me blankly. I take a deep breath, then ask slowly, “What’s your name?” No answer. “Where are you from?” Nothing. I turn to Conn and shrug. “He’s simple. He probably escaped from his village and —”
    “Come with!” the boy shouts. “Run fast! Demons!”
    “Bec’s right,” Connla snorts. “Why would anyone send a fool like this to —”
    “Run fast!” the boy gasps before Connla can finish. “Run fast!” he repeats, his face lighting up. He tears away from