Read Online Aethersmith (Book 2) by J.S. Morin - Free Book Online

assassins or other treachery, Jinzan had
shortened the rest of his evening with his wives and guests, and gone to see
the goblin visitor. He was a wizened little creature with grey-green skin and
thin grey hair, sitting in a human-sized chair with his feet dangling halfway
to the floor. He peered up at Jinzan through a thick pair of spectacles.
    [Ha-ha, Sorcerer, I see life among your own kind treats you
well. That is good,] K’k’rt greeted his one-time ally.
    Jinzan understood goblin-speech perfectly well, and did not
ever remember hearing the goblin butcher his own language. Until shortly ago,
he had not known whether this goblin understood Megrenn or not. During his time
among their people, Jinzan had spoken the more widely understood Kadrin dialect
of human.
    [I could not help but hear the sound of one of my cannons
earlier today,] K’k’rt said. [It is good to hear that at least one was saved.]
    K’k’rt was the goblin tinker responsible for converting
Jinzan’s sketches of an Acardian-style cannon into the working devices that had
been used in the Battle of Raynesdark. Though the cannons had been successful,
and Jinzan had escaped with the Staff of Gehlen, the rest of the battle had
gone far beyond poorly for the goblin side.
    “I did not know that any of your people survived the
battle,” was all Jinzan could think to reply. With the death of their dragon
goddess, there was little hope for the goblins when faced with the demon the
Kadrins had dredged up from somewhere in their history books. Rashan Solaran,
by all accounts, had massacred the lot of them.
    [Ha-ha, I do not hear any joy in your voice at finding that
I am alive. How unsurprising. Still, I think you will be happy to see me before
long,] K’k’rt said.
    “Why would that be?” Jinzan asked, not bothering to dispute
the goblin’s suggestion that he was indifferent to K’k’rt’s survival. The tinker
was useful, but could be grating at times, with his flippant and condescending
attitude; he was also too observant and too often correct, traits that annoyed
Jinzan in others.
    [I hear you need to make cannons,] K’k’rt answered, smiling
a wide toothy smile. [I could probably be of some help.]
    * * * * * * * *
    While the rest of the children had been out playing, one of
Jinzan’s brood had slipped away unnoticed. Anzik Fehr was an odd boy who never
fit in well with the other children. Many children learned to dislike sport, or
their studies, or any subject they began to find tedious or difficult. Anzik
disliked everything.
    He did not throw tantrums or pout. He did not cause trouble.
He did … not. He did lots of not. Anzik looked at things, and seemed to
think a great deal, but by and large did nothing. Sometimes he would refuse to
take his lessons, only to be found later to be engrossed in the same book that
his tutors had tried to get him to read. On the occasions he could be drawn
into conversation, he seemed remarkably bright, as if all that he had appeared
to ignore had been absorbed and tucked away in his mind.
    Despite being just shy of eleven springtimes old, he would
sometimes be found playing with blocks meant for children young enough to still
soil themselves. He would ignore all attempts to persuade him to more
appropriate activities, not even looking at those who spoke to him. Calls to
mealtime might well have been spoken to the stones of the wall.
    But magic was somewhat different. Anzik did magic. No one
seemed to approve when he did, though. Jinzan had discovered when Anzik was
very young that his son saw the aether all the time. It was a debilitating
thing to a young child, seeing always what most folk cannot see at all. It must
have been like living in another world from everyone else. But the time he
spent looking there had given him insight, and made magic easy for him. While
there seemed to be no malice behind it, his workings in the aether always
seemed to cause mischief.
    The worst was when one of the Fehr dogs died.