ZYGRADON Read Online Free PDF Page A

to a vision, to find the
children and test them, to learn the sound and feel of their spirits and minds. He talked
with the metalworkers in the Stronghold and the ladies in charge of the great
looms--about what, the boy had no idea, but knew he would learn in time. It only mattered
that the man felt familiar, like an old friend who had come back to visit.
    When Graddon left the Stronghold, he promised to come back every four
moons to visit, to talk with them about prophecies and history and the making of pretty
things. He left copper, bronze and silver wire for them to play with, to braid and to
flatten with little hammers, so they could learn the feel and response of the different
metals. He told Ceera to remember her dreams, and to weave pictures of what she
saw.
    "Why?" the boy asked Le'esha, when they bade farewell to the seer and
Graddon had vanished into the twisting passages that guarded the Stronghold. "What did
he see in his vision, that made him come look for us?"
    "If I told you, my lad, that might change everything. Be content with the lessons
he has given you to learn now." The Queen of Snows bent and scooped up Ceera and
settled the child on her hip. "Don't pick up the hammer that is too big for you to hold,"
she added with a wink and a smile.
    Mrillis groaned, but he grinned before he hurried ahead to open the door to
the stairs for her. On one visit to the forges, he had tried to pick up a hammer with a
head bigger than both his feet put together. He had nearly dropped it on his foot, it was
so heavy.
    "What do you think I'm supposed to do, when I learn to be a metalworker?" he
persisted, as the three started up the stairs.
    "Who says you are to be the metalworker? Or a weaver, for that matter?
Perhaps Ceera is the one who will put her visions into metal and cloth, and your duty is
to guard her and bring her whatever she needs."
    Mrillis nearly stopped short. He frowned and studied his feet as he continued
climbing and thought about that possibility. It had never occurred to him that Ceera
would do anything that he hadn't done first or that he hadn't taught her. He wasn't sure
he liked the idea of the little girl, as much as he loved her, being better than him at
anything.
    "My lad..." Le'esha paused on the next landing, where a shuttered window
rattled a little under the renewed pounding of the wind coming off the sea. She adjusted
Ceera in her arms and sat down on the bench placed there for those who stood watch.
"Why is the Warhawk a great man?"
    "He--he's the smartest and the bravest and the strongest warrior." That question
was easy. He smiled up at her and hooked his thumbs into the braided cloth belt he
wore.
    "Why is he?"
    That answer wasn't so quick in coming. Mrillis chewed on his lip and tried to
think about the things he had heard about Afron, son of Maksin Warhawk.
    "The Estall gives us many gifts, many talents," Le'esha said, speaking softly, as if
weary. "We are bound by honor to use those gifts to their fullest. The Warhawk's gift is
to lead men in war, to protect Noveni and Rey'kil from the Encindi. He is a great man
because he knows his duty to the Estall, and he does it. He was trained from childhood
to be a warrior." She smiled and tipped her head so her cheek rested against the top of
Ceera's head.
    "And what does that have to do with you? Suppose your gift, my dear, is to
guard Ceera. To keep her safe, to give her the tools and supplies she needs to do great
and good things." A tiny yawn escaped Ceera, making woman and boy laugh.
    "If that's what the Estall wants me to do..." He sighed, feeling rebellion churning
deep inside him.
    Like every boy in the dormitory, he wanted to do exciting things. He wanted to
ride a fast horse and explore the whole world. He wanted to invade and conquer Flintan
and see all the dark and strange places where the Encindi lived. He wanted to explore
Moerta and learn why star-metal was poison there, but it did no harm to Lygroes. He
wanted to be a warrior like