Son of the Hero Read Online Free PDF Page A

Time out! What do you mean, wizard?”
    “Well, yes, I think that’s still the word.” He paused a moment, then said, “Conjuring, spells, potions, the odd bit of magic. That sort of lot.”
    And I’m the King of Siam, I thought. Okay, the whole family was crazy. That was the obvious explanation. And I just happened to pick my twenty-first birthday to join the club.
    “My eyesight’s always been bad, and getting worse all the time,” Parthet continued. “Weak eyes are a terrible handicap to a wizard. So much of the craft depends on being able to see what you’re doing. A wizard who can’t see the end of his nose isn’t worth much.” He sighed, rather theatrically, I thought. “I was so glad when spectacles were invented. It gave me the chance to do a spot of business now and again.”
    “Uncle Parker, I think glasses were invented more than six hundred years ago, back in the Middle Ages.”
    He looked toward the ceiling for a moment, then nodded. “That sounds about right. As soon as I heard about this newfangled invention, I went and had a pair made for me. I got this last pair—wherever they’ve gotten themselves off to—while I was visiting the World’s Fair in St. Louis in your world.”
    “More than eighty years ago?”
    “Why, yes, I suppose it was. My, how time flies. I’m due for a new pair, but I never seem to find the time.”
    We were getting way off track, drifting farther off into Never-Never Land. “Mom said you called Dad for help. What kind of help?”
    “Well, there was a job of work to be done, the kind of to-do your father has handled for us for the last twenty-odd years. He wasn’t much older than you are now the first time he came to Varay.” Parthet licked his lips. “This will be thirsty work. Would you care for a flagon of wine with me?” I was beginning to see where Mom’s discursive notes came from.
    “I’d prefer beer if you’ve got it,” I said.
    “Ah, me, so would I, but I don’t have any to hand, and it would take time to fetch some in.”
    Then I remembered. “I have some with me.” I stripped off my pack—which shows how distracted I had been; all that time and I still had it on—and took out two bottles. Good thing I’d fallen forward in the cave. None of my bottles had broken. “It’s not as cold as it could be, but I think it’ll do.” I handed one bottle to Parthet.
    “It will indeed.” He held the bottle close to his eyes. “Did you remember to fetch along an opener?”
    “Don’t need one. Just twist the cap.” I demonstrated with mine and he managed his.
    “Now, that’s convenient.” He almost drowned the last word by pouring beer all over it. He took a long swallow, smacked his lips, and held the bottle close to his eyes again. The afternoon was getting late and the inside of the cottage was getting darker by the minute. It hardly mattered that Uncle Parthet was more than half blind and I had perfect eyesight. Neither of us could see much.
    “The doorways are a bit of family magic,” Parthet said after a second pull on his Michelob. I wasn’t sure if that was a non sequitur or a good place to begin whatever he had to tell me. “Been in the family for ages.” He paused for a moment.
    “I guess this story really starts when I went looking for a Hero, two, maybe three years before you were born. Your mother had been kidnapped by the Etevar of Dorthin, the neighboring kingdom. To the east. Her grandfather, your great-grandfather Pregel, is King of Varay. The Etevar wanted to marry his son to your mother to unite the two kingdoms. King Pregel didn’t want any part of the union on general principles, and he couldn’t stand the old Etevar anyway, so he absolutely refused—rather less than diplomatically, not that diplomacy would have mattered. That’s why the Etevar kidnapped your mother, to force the marriage, but Pregel still refused to countenance the union. We had to rescue your mother, but open war wasn’t considered a smart