The Glass of Dyskornis Read Online Free PDF

living for us. The idea of teaching kids to use a sword doesn’t strike me well, either.
*
    With his stomach full and his back being scratched, Keeshah had almost fallen asleep. I assumed that I was talking to myself. But a thought from Keeshah reached me, sounding slow and sleepy in my mind.
    *
Need time. Rest.
*
    *
You or me, Keeshah?
*
    *
Both.
*
    Hadn’t I had the same thought earlier? That I needed some leave time before I could settle down to—well, to whatever career I chose in this world? And even then, I hadn’t considered Keeshah’s needs, assuming that just lying still after all that running would constitute rest for him.
    I realized now that it didn’t work that way. He could always sense unhappiness or anxiety in me. As long as I couldn’t relax, neither could he.
    *
I’m sorry I haven’t asked you before this,
* I said to him. *
Is there something you would like to do?
*
    *
Yes.
*
    He stopped there, and I sensed a reluctance in him, as though he wasn’t sure whether I’d approve of what he wanted.
    *
Tell me,
* I urged.
    *
Hard to say,
* he explained, and I felt his mind groping for the close bond we had shared on other occasions. As he had done for me then, I stilled my mind and waited for what he wanted to tell me.
    An image formed slowly, at once familiar and all new. It was the nighttime scene at Thagorn which had moved me so much that I had reached for Keeshah to share it. The river which cut the valley in half was murmuring nearby. Across it, dying cookfires cast glows like candle flames into the night sky. There was music, and the sound of children playing. Through Keeshah’s perception, odors I had not even noticed were distinct and plentiful.
    And there was the sound of sha’um.
    What I had felt when I looked at that scene paled to insignificance beside the emotions it had stirred in Keeshah. I had heard growling and rumbling and roaring from the sha’um. Keeshah had heard music far more potent than the flute and harp and voice which had charmed me. He had heard the song of his own heritage, and it had stimulated long-ago memories and unrecognized needs.
    The vision lasted only a short while, for this kind of sharing was both a joy and a tremendous strain for both of us. When Keeshah withdrew, he waited silently for my response, lifting his head to look over his shoulder at me.
    *
How could it hurt me to know that you are lonely for your own kind?
* I asked him gently. *
I
felt something like that, too—a kinship with those people who understood the partnership between a man and his sha’um. And I do remember saying to you that we would go back to Thagorn together someday, if it were possible. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it?
*
    *
Yes. We go?
*
    *
I don’t know, Keeshah. There’s a job waiting there for me, too. And I know I don’t want that one.
*
    *
You don’t want job,
* he agreed, staring at me with unblinking gray eyes. *
You do want to go. Say when.
* With that, he lowered his head to the ground and slipped into a light sleep.
    It’s an unsettling experience, having a cat tell you what you’re thinking. Especially when you’re not sure, yourself, about something. But it’s useful.
    I do want to go back to Thagorn
, I realized, as I lay down beside Keeshah and looked up through pointed leaves at the cloud-masked sky.
I like Dharak a lot, and it seems unfair to let him believe I’m going to come back and take over the burden he’s carried all these years. If I could get there, and talk to him alone before he makes anything official …
    Boy, I would like to spend some time with the Sharith. Get to know their routine. Share the experience of riding. Relax. Be myself.
    Markasset never set foot in Thagorn. I don’t believe he ever thought very much about the Sharith and their connection with his family. In Thagorn, I could be free of his “echo” for a while, and get acquainted with this world on my own.
    Zaddorn doesn’t have lines of people waiting for that job.