Firehurler (Twinborn Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

all
haste. Since I could not bear to sell it to a stranger, I had thought to ask
one of you to buy it from me. We shall auction it right now, with payment due
immediately. Let us begin as modestly as possible, at a single eckle.”
    There was a general bewilderment at this sudden turn
of events. That the men gathered at the table were ill prepared for such an
undertaking was obvious. Kyrus could not believe what was happening. Davin was
auctioning off his home … his home—the both of theirs. While it was
perfectly within his right to do so, Kyrus could not believe Davin had not
forewarned him.
    “Well, anyone … one eckle?”
    There was a general muttering up and down the length
of the table, muttered excuses of coin purses left at home and the like.
Greuder gave Kyrus an elbow in the side, and Kyrus noticed that nobody at the
table would admit to having so much as a single one-eckle coin among them.
Fumbling in his vest pocket, Kyrus withdrew the first coin his fingers closed
on. He gave a quick glance at the denomination and slapped it down on the
table.
    “Ten eckles!” Kyrus cried as everyone turned their
gazes in his direction.
    Silence fell over the gathering as they waited for
someone to respond.
    “Well, we have a bid of ten eckles. Do I hear any
other bids?”
    Silence followed Davin’s question. After a moment,
Davin deemed it suitable to continue, having given everyone enough time to
protest should they so choose.
    “Ten eckles it is, then.”
    Davin smiled at Kyrus and beckoned to him with one
hand—the hand not holding the speech that had turned Kyrus’s world on its head
that evening.
    “Congratulations, my boy. Let us just get the deed
signed over to you, which Kornelius has conveniently brought along.”
    At a nod from Davin, the old steward retrieved a small
strongbox from the floor in the corner of the room, where it had lain
unnoticed. Kornelius placed it on the table and withdrew from it some papers, a
quill, and ink. Starting to put the pieces together and figure out what
precisely was going on, Kyrus cautiously made his way down to Davin’s end of
the table. The whole thing gave Kyrus the impression of one of the old, trite
plays that Davin so enjoyed watching.
    Kyrus and Davin both signed the contracts that
Kornelius had drawn up to complete the sale, and Kyrus could not help but get
the feeling that there was something missing. As if on cue, Davin interrupted
his musings.
    “Of course, to keep the old place in use, there will
have to be a member of the Scriveners Guild there to oversee things. Now,
Kyrus, I know you have been painfully aware that I have been remiss in my
duties to you as a mentor of late. You are long overdue for your
journeymanship, as I have long admitted. Now close your eyes; I have something
for you.”
    Kyrus did as he was told and shut his eyes, grinning
broadly. At last, he would get his official membership in the guild. He had
waited perhaps a year longer than was considered the norm, but today would make
up for all that. He would also be the only journeyman in Eastern Acardia to own
his own shop. He could hardly contain his excitement as he first heard Davin
step around behind him and then the clatter of a fine metal chain. He felt
Davin lower the chain over his head; it had to be his journeyman’s medallion, a
symbol of his new status as a guild member.
    “Now,” Davin said, “I know that the guild does not
forbid a journeyman from maintaining his own shop, but the general public does
not place their trust lightly, and it is difficult for a journeyman to gain
that trust, not having been recognized by the guild as an expert in his field.
You should not have to worry, though.”
    Kyrus’s eyes shot open. He looked down at his chest
and did not see the journeyman’s medallion he had first expected. What he saw was
the emblem of an Expert Scrivener: a golden “S” curled around a quill. He spun
around to face Davin, the question on his mind written upon his