Read Online The Dream-Maker's Magic by Sharon Shinn - Free Book Online

thought about that , either. “Maybe,” I said, my voice uncertain. “But there are days I don’t like who I have to be.”
    â€œThere are days all of us don’t like who we are,” Ayler replied serenely. “And there are days we work to become people we like better.”
    I came a step closer. “What would happen,” I asked, “if I told you a secret that wasn’t true? Would you know?”
    He shook his head. “I’m no Truth-Teller. I am not blessed with the ability to recognize a lie.”
    â€œBut then, if I told you something false?” I persisted.
    He laughed. “Then I would forever keep a lie in my store of secrets.”
    â€œI wonder if anybody ever has,” I mused.
    â€œIn my experience,” he said, “when someone is desperate enough to seek a Safe-Keeper, what he has to say is true. Or he believes it to be true. Or it becomes true. It is the dreadful truths that needed to be shielded. The dreadful lies may run about in the sunshine all day long and no one will care.”
    â€œSome things are dreadful even when they’re not secrets,” I said.
    Ayler nodded. “This is also true.”
    My mother came bustling back in. She was glowing with the happiness of good fortune. Another paying guest! Such luck! “The room is ready anytime you want to go back and sleep,” she said. “Let me know when you’d like me to wake you.”
    Ayler rose to his feet, then bent to retrieve his bags. “If I’m not up wandering about by mid-afternoon, I would consider it a kindness if you would call for me,” he said. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.” He nodded in my direction. “I have enjoyed my brief conversation with your son.”
    My mother glowed briefly brighter. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
    She guided him back to her room while I resumed my work in the kitchen. I was smiling.

    But the day held some ugliness. I was returning from the market fair, having bought dried spices there for my mother, when behind me I heard running footsteps and a sudden shout. I spun around, not quickly enough, and was instantly in the middle of a nasty little brawl. There was Carlon, of course, and two of his friends from school. Maybe they’d gotten hold of some Summermoon wine and were feeling more than ordinarily boisterous. Maybe they had been lying in wait for me; maybe they were just roaming the streets of Thrush Hollow, looking for distractions. In any case, I was not a match for all three of them. I was soon a mass of pain and bruises where I had dropped to the ground, curled in a ball to shield myself from the worst of the kicks and blows. The spices were lost somewhere in the scuffle, trampled into the grass and mud.
    The fight didn’t last all that long. It was Summermoon, and the streets were crowded, and I heard a man’s voice shouting out. “You boys! Stop that! Get along, now, and don’t cause trouble.” Carlon gave me a last quick kick in the ribs, then they all laughed and ran down the street. My rescuer came a few steps closer.
    â€œAre you badly hurt, son?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said, slowly pushing myself to a sitting position. Nothing was broken, anyway, though I was a mess of blood and dirt. I rose to my feet a little shakily. “Some cuts and bruises, I guess.”
    â€œWell, go on home, now, and try to stay out of fights,” he advised me. His good deed done, he turned and hurried off to the fair.
    More slowly, I went on my way. My face hurt and my lip burned, and I could taste blood in my mouth. The worst was my right leg, which was painful to walk on. But I imagined how much harder it must be for Gryffin, and I gritted my teeth and kept moving.
    My mother exclaimed with dismay when she saw me, and sent me out to the back to wash up. I dumped two buckets of water over my head—my thrifty idea of