Glasswrights' Progress Read Online Free PDF Page B

each other, their own tattoos glinting black against their cheeks.
    Shea merely watched them and listened, thinking of her own children, who had come to her so late in life. Her own dead lionson, her lost daughter. Her lost swangirl. Like Serena.
    Just six years old, the orphaned swangirl Serena was the problem during supper. She perched at the head of the table and wrinkled her nose at her bowl of tepid brine. One of the sunchildren tried to forestall a tantrum by giving Serena his portion of acorn bread. The swangirl took one look at the dry crust, and a crystal tear trickled past the silver wings tattooed beneath her left eye.
    That tear made Tain, the oldest sungirl, rush over to comfort the swanchild. As Tain crooned soft words, the lion captain, Hartley, glared at the other children. He made a show of mopping out the salty dregs from his bowl with his own bitter bread. The other children followed his example. Shea’s heart went out to her oldest orphans, to Tain and Hartley, who were almost ready to take their places in the warring, wild world.
    As Tain cleared empty bowls from the table, Shea rested a hand on Hartley’s arm. She spoke awkwardly. “Thank you.”
    â€œI was only doing my job,” the lionboy growled. It still surprised Shea that he spoke with a man’s deep voice. He had already lived fifteen years. Fifteen years, all in the shadow of King Sin Hazar’s wars, of the Uprising and the battles that followed.
    â€œYou do your job well. It’s a comfort knowing that I can trust you.”
    The boy was clearly pleased by the praise, but before he could answer, Tain approached. “I’ll get the children into bed. We should get the suns up early tomorrow, if we’re going to forage in the northern clearing.”
    â€œAye,” Shea agreed. “It’s a long walk.”
    â€œI still don’t think it’s safe,” Hartley protested. He had argued every morning since Shea had proposed the journey to the distant part of the forest. “My lions can’t guard all of us so far from home.”
    â€œWell, we can’t just sit here and starve,” Shea said. She might only be a sun, she might not have been born under a star-sign, but she knew about providing for her children. “Besides, it’s just the suns and the lions who will go. We’ll send the owls and Serena to the village for the day. Father Nariom can teach them more of their lessons.”
    â€œThe village isn’t safe either! Sin Hazar’s men could come through at any time!”
    â€œKing Sin Hazar’s men have not passed this way in over a year, Hartley. They’re staying far to the north. They’re preparing to do battle across the sea, in Liantine.”
    The boy shook his head. “They may fight across the ocean, but they’ll come here to gather up soldiers for the Little Army. They’re still set on punishing us for the Uprising. You know the rumors – you’ve heard them in the village!”
    â€œIf stories had any value, then bards would give feasts all year round.”
    â€œShea, my lions have been talking about nothing else. Everyone knows that the Little Army grows near.” Shea forced herself to laugh, as if she had not heard the desperate tales. “You know King Sin Hazar needs us, Shea. He needs children.” Hartley recited the lessons he’d learned, the lions’ catechism that he’d been taught when he first met other lionboys around the village fountain, when he had first begun to learn how to fight, how to protect his homeland. “After fifteen years of fighting the Uprising against our pitiful, rebellious province, the king had hardly any grown men in all Amanthia. The Little Army, the army of children, will help King Sin Hazar reclaim his power in the world. King Sin Hazar will be able to capture Liantine to the east, and he’ll bring power and glory to his united kingdom of