The Seeing Stone Read Online Free PDF

passageway. They chased after the boy, whooping and yelling.
    â€œâ€˜Is it the day?’ they called out.” Nain stood up and flapped her black wings again. “‘Is it the day?’”
    â€œWhat about the king?” Sian demanded. “What did he do?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Nain said. “He went on sleeping. But thewarriors’ whoops and yells echoed all the way down the passage. How the boy wished he could stop them, but he didn’t know the old words, see. He didn’t know the magic words that swallow every sound. He knew what to do, though. He could see the light at the end of that passage—a needle of hope—and he ran as fast as he could towards it.
    â€œThe warriors followed the boy, he could hear their footsteps and their loud breathing. But he got out before they could catch him, and not one of them came out into the light. Not so much as a footstep.
    â€œSo the boy, panting and trembling, he escaped. And he still had the gold coin in his right hand.
    â€œWho was the king?” cried Nain. “And who were the warriors? Were they men of the March? Were they the British warriors who fought long ago against the Saxons?”
    Nain paused and fixed each of us with her dark stare. “And when will the day come? When will the warriors wake and march out of the hill?
    â€œThe boy took his coin home, and of course he told people what he’d seen, and all the men and boys living on his manor went up on to the hillside with flaming brands.
    â€œBut you know what? They couldn’t find the passage at the back of the cave. Not then, and never since. They searched and searched. It was there and it was not there.”
    Nain sighed and then she suddenly reached out and pointed through the darkness. “You,” she called out.
    â€œWho?” said Serle.
    â€œMe?” asked Sian.
    â€œYou, girl! What’s your name?”
    â€œTanwen.”
    â€œWhat does it mean?”
    â€œI am white fire,” said Tanwen in a low voice.
    â€œSpeak up!”
    â€œWhite fire.”
    â€œThat’s what it means,” said Nain. “Yes, and it’s dangerous to play with white fire.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” my father asked.
    â€œNames,” said Merlin. “Names have power.”
    â€œIs that the end of the story, Nain?” asked Sian.
    â€œUntil the Sleeping King wakes,” said Nain.
    â€œHoly smoke!” exclaimed Sian, and everyone laughed.

11
JACK-WORDS
    W HAT MERLIN SAYS MUST BE TRUE. NAMES DO have power.
    Last night, I couldn’t get to sleep for thinking about Nain’s story, and wondering who the Sleeping King is and when he will march out of the hill, and which hill it is, and what the magic words are that will swallow sound. I did try to count the clouds crossing the sky inside my head, but the more I counted, the more awake I was. And it was just the same with sheep coming out of a pen.…
    Then I began to think about the word Jack, and all the Jackwords I know.
    There’s Jack Frost, who scrawls and scribbles all over the hornwindows, and sometimes on the outsides of walls as well. There’s Jack-Daw, and he’s no friend of ours: He helps his friend Crow eat our green wheat. Jack-Straw! That’s what Sian and I play. Her fingers are more quick and delicate than mine, and she usually beats me. And what about Jack who killed a giant? I wish I had a cap like his. As soon as he put it on, he knew the answers to everything.
    Then there’s Jack-o’-Lantern, glowing and scowling on Hallowe’en, scaring away warlocks and witches. Jack-o’-Lantern. His white face on fire…
    I think this is when I fell asleep.

12
FEVER
    S IR WILLIAM’S MESSENGER, THOMAS, RODE IN AGAIN today—the same man who told us King Richard had been shot by one of his own crossbowmen. I thought he must be bringing us more news of King Richard, but he had come to say that