The Prodigal Mage: Fisherman’s Children Book One Read Online Free PDF Page B

the palm of his hand, a crystal falcon. Curved beak open, wings mantled in defiance, it sparkled in the light from the library’s glimfire chandelier.
    “He’s only ten,” said Lord Baden. He was staring at Father, the strangest look on his face. “He can do this at ten? As I recall, you struggled with that incant when you were—” He stopped, and cleared his throat. “What else can the boy do?”
    “This and that,” said Father, his eyes still frightening. “He’s not without promise. But what good is promise, I ask you, when he is chained by the past? When he is bound by outdated prohibitions? Strangled by the fears of inferior men? My friends, I’ve sired a mage who could rival Barl herself and who will ever know it?”
    “This is your dream?” said Lord Vail. “To free Arlin?”
    Father stood. “To free all of us, Ennet. For six hundred years we’ve cowered like field mice in the wheat, terrified of every shadow that flies overhead. But Morg is dead and all danger died with him. I say the time has come to stop cowering. I say we stand tall and proud in the sun and reclaim our heritage. We are
Doranen,
my friends. No more shame. No more apologies. No more fear.”
    Lord Baden was frowning. “Stirring words, Rodyn. But what do they mean?”
    “Sarle,” said Father, “they mean whatever we want them to mean. It is for us to decide. The future of our people is for us to mould, not the Olken. And not Barl either, six hundred years dead. So. Are you with me? Will you help me unlock the cage so our people might be set free?”
    “I don’t deny I’m tired of answering to Olken,” said Lord Vail. “And I won’t pretend I’ve not had my own dreams of unfettered magic. Very well. I’m with you, Rodyn—provided we act within the law and provoke no violence.”
    “No violence,” said Father. “A firm resolve only. Sarle?”
    Lord Baden stared at the crystal falcon. “I have doubts, Rodyn. I think this will not be as easy as you imagine.”
    “I don’t imagine it will be easy,” said Father. “But I believe it is right.”
    “Right,” Lord Baden murmured. “Well. Time will tell, I suppose.” He nodded. “But I’m with you. We’ve deferred to the Olken long enough.”
    “Excellent,”
said Father. “Arlin, you can go. And toss that thing in the fire. Crystal baubles are girlish.”
    There was no point protesting. “Yes, Father.”
    As he passed the fireplace on his way to the library door he threw the falcon he’d made into the greedy flames. Perhaps one day he’d make another. When he was older, his own man, and Father could no longer tell him what to do.
    He was very, very careful to close the door quietly behind him.

CHAPTER TWO
     

     
    T he feeling rolled through him as he wandered the cherry orchard Dathne had seen planted in the palace grounds. Not that there were any cherries to steal yet—the trees hadn’t even started to bud. But winter was waning: the merest hint of springtime warmth in the sunshine kissed his cheek. That meant the cherry trees would soon be bursting blossom pink and swelling with fruit. It was a cheerful thought, and he’d escaped out here to be cheered. To be alone. Just a snatch of peace and quiet in the fresh air, beneath the milky blue sky, before the demands of both Councils and Justice Hall dragged him under again.
    And then the sickening surge of wrongness struck him, and he had to clutch at the nearest gnarled tree-trunk to keep his feet. Had to spit saliva to the damp, tangled grass, bent almost double, and hope he didn’t lose his lunch. This was bad.
Bad
. The worst yet. The first time he’d felt it when he weren’t asleep and trapped in dreams. And that meant he couldn’t pretend any more. Couldn’t shrug the feeling aside and call it too much apple pie and spiced cream close to bed. This time he had to face the awful truth. Something weren’t right in their small jewel of a kingdom.
    Heart thudding, belly roiling, Asher closed his eyes