Legacy of the Claw Read Online Free PDF Page A

forests and the Lowlands as well. I must seek out what allies we may have left.”
    â€œAll the more reason I should go with you! You’ll need someone to protect you,” she said, even though she knew what his answer would be.
    He shook his head. His gray hair was tufted like the feathers of one of their owls. “You must stay here and make sure that no one tries to take over my study again, eh?”
    Gwen nodded stiffly. The Elder’s joke did not seem funny to her. For too long the Parliament had been divided. Some senators wanted to bleed out the corruption and elect a new monarch; others wanted absolute power for themselves, and often bought and received favors in order to get it. Chambers in the palace seemed to shift as often as allegiances. After many years of occupying a study near the royal apartment, the Elder had been shuffled out and up, into a cramped tower that looked out over the ports and the harbor market of the Fluvian river. Every time the wind blew from the south, it caused the tower to sway slightly, and carried with it the pungent smell of fish.
    The Elder moved to the desk and opened the smallest drawer.
    â€œHere,” he said. Gwen watched, surprised, as the Elder pulled the drawer completely out from the desk, revealing a hidden compartment. The Elder set the drawer on the desk and removed a thin leather box, only as long as the palm of his hand.
    â€œI want you to keep this safe while I am gone. It is an instrument of great power.”
    Gwen marveled at the box before opening it. The real leather, very rare, used only for special objects, was smooth and almost red. The use of an animal’s skin meant that the object had great value, and was made to honor the animal who died, most likely of old age. The box had been lovingly embossed with the emblem of a boy and a fox—the Twins of legend. She opened the box, her hands shaking slightly. But almost immediately, she felt disappointed. Inside was nothing more than a rusty old harmonica.
    â€œI  …  I don’t know how to play,” Gwen said, trying to conceal her confusion.
    â€œThat doesn’t matter,” said the Elder. “It’s a relic of the last True King. The leather is pigskin, made as a gift to the king in honor of his daughter’s eighth birthday, when she Awakened to her Animas, the pig, like her mother. But the instrument—that is much older. Melore believed that its music could strengthen the Animas bond.”
    â€œHow can that be?” Gwen asked, baffled.
    The Elder lowered his voice. “Melore was a good king,” he whispered, “and very intelligent. He believed that the Animas bond did not only exist
here
”—the Elder pointed to his head—“but all around us. He believed it was a frequency, a vibration. It was everywhere.”
    Gwen looked up at the owls clustered on top of the high bookshelves. One among them was a dark brown barn owl named Grimsen, with whom the Elder had bonded for life. Once life-bonded with a member of their kin, a human could see through their eyes, like looking at a photograph, almost at will. Life-bonded humans and their kin were like two halves of the same soul, and one’s well-being was intimately tied with the other’s. Gwen had not experienced this with one particular animal, an owl like Grimsen that she could consider part of her own self. She looked at the small instrument in her hands. How wonderful it would be if just learning to play a few notes—the right notes—would strengthen her Animas connection, making her strong enough to bond with one particular owl, to see clearly what it saw. Maybe then she could be of more use to the Elder.
    â€œKeep it safe,” the Elder said, and his voice turned stern. “You never know when a tune might come in handy.”
    Gwen forced a smile.
    Above them, Grimsen screeched, and a large brown feather fell to the floor. The Elder closed his eyes as