Read Online The Sand Prince by Kim Alexander - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kim Alexander
Tags: Fantasy
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found him. She had a small girl demon in front of her, and gently pushed the child forward.
"Look, Rhuun," she said. "This is Aelle. She is the clan daughter of our friend Counselor Yuenne. You like him."
The boy looked suspiciously at the pair. Like all of his kind, they looked quite similar, slender and poised— one just a larger version of the other. The girl had silky black hair loose around her shoulders, his mother's was tightly coiled and dressed with sparkling black and white beads, as was proper. He knew Counselor Yuenne. He smiled all the time. Rhuun had seen him kick another boy down a flight of stairs for walking in front of him too slowly. And this was his daughter. She wasn’t smiling, at least.
"Aelle will be taking lessons with us for a while."
"My father is traveling. I am to stay here," the girl said. She looked indifferently around the library. "Can we go outside? I want to practice." The Queen crouched down so she was eye level with the child.
"Rhuun prefers to stay in here. Perhaps you can convince him to go outside with you. Now, have a nice afternoon."
She turned and vanished, leaving a bright spot in the air. That was one of her favorite abilities, she'd told him, one of the nicest things she could do. Be in one place and then suddenly be in another. You never knew who you'd surprise, and that was great fun. And if anyone ever said anything you didn't like, well, you could just leave. Then they'd have to think about what they'd said and why. He'd understand when his own abilities manifested. There was plenty of time, she said.
The boy imagined she would reappear—poof!—sitting on her High Seat at Court, startling and surprising her councilors. She was very important, his mother. It was easy to understand why Counselor Yuenne handed his child off to her. But what was he supposed to do with the girl?
Aelle had crawled into a once-handsome wing back chair which someone had pushed up against his favorite couch. Her feet stuck out in front of her. The chair might have been designed for a giant or a human, she nearly vanished into it. She scooted herself forward and looked around at the rows and stacks of books. They were mostly historical documents, along with some memoirs of those who had survived the War of the Door. In other words, boring.
"Can you talk?" she asked. "I heard you were simple in your wits."
"Of course I can talk," he answered testily.
She reached out and poked him in the arm. A tiny jet of flame shot from her finger. He yanked his arm away.
"Don’t do that."
"So you can talk, but you are simple." She nodded as if that explained everything.
He scowled. "Where’s your father?" he asked. "I bet he’s dead. I bet he got sucked up by the Crosswinds. That's why Mother is being nice to you."
Aelle looked furious. Tears stood in her eyes. He would learn Aelle never cried unless she was angry.
She said, "He is not dead. At least I have a father."
He immediately felt sorry for her. Why was he so stupid? "I’m sorry. Don’t cry. He’s not dead."
She rubbed her nose and got up, wandering around the dark room. "Let’s go out. It’s boring in here."
"I don’t like it out there. I can’t fly. I can’t do fire. And Niico is there."
The first time he'd been scorched, he figured he'd been no more than 5 or 6. He'd been burned across the backs of his legs by Niico, who had recently fledged and was showing off his new little wings. He'd stumbled home to tell his mother, who'd taken a look at him and said, "Can you walk?" He nodded, trying not to cry. (She hated when he cried.) "Then you will heal."
She turned her attention back to her maid, and continued planning the evening meal. It wasn't the last time Niico had gotten a strike on him, but it was the last time he'd cried to his mother.
Aelle nodded. She'd been a target as well, as they all had at one time or another.
"They get you. The bigger ones. They used to get me too, until I fledged." She brightened. "And I got
"Look, Rhuun," she said. "This is Aelle. She is the clan daughter of our friend Counselor Yuenne. You like him."
The boy looked suspiciously at the pair. Like all of his kind, they looked quite similar, slender and poised— one just a larger version of the other. The girl had silky black hair loose around her shoulders, his mother's was tightly coiled and dressed with sparkling black and white beads, as was proper. He knew Counselor Yuenne. He smiled all the time. Rhuun had seen him kick another boy down a flight of stairs for walking in front of him too slowly. And this was his daughter. She wasn’t smiling, at least.
"Aelle will be taking lessons with us for a while."
"My father is traveling. I am to stay here," the girl said. She looked indifferently around the library. "Can we go outside? I want to practice." The Queen crouched down so she was eye level with the child.
"Rhuun prefers to stay in here. Perhaps you can convince him to go outside with you. Now, have a nice afternoon."
She turned and vanished, leaving a bright spot in the air. That was one of her favorite abilities, she'd told him, one of the nicest things she could do. Be in one place and then suddenly be in another. You never knew who you'd surprise, and that was great fun. And if anyone ever said anything you didn't like, well, you could just leave. Then they'd have to think about what they'd said and why. He'd understand when his own abilities manifested. There was plenty of time, she said.
The boy imagined she would reappear—poof!—sitting on her High Seat at Court, startling and surprising her councilors. She was very important, his mother. It was easy to understand why Counselor Yuenne handed his child off to her. But what was he supposed to do with the girl?
Aelle had crawled into a once-handsome wing back chair which someone had pushed up against his favorite couch. Her feet stuck out in front of her. The chair might have been designed for a giant or a human, she nearly vanished into it. She scooted herself forward and looked around at the rows and stacks of books. They were mostly historical documents, along with some memoirs of those who had survived the War of the Door. In other words, boring.
"Can you talk?" she asked. "I heard you were simple in your wits."
"Of course I can talk," he answered testily.
She reached out and poked him in the arm. A tiny jet of flame shot from her finger. He yanked his arm away.
"Don’t do that."
"So you can talk, but you are simple." She nodded as if that explained everything.
He scowled. "Where’s your father?" he asked. "I bet he’s dead. I bet he got sucked up by the Crosswinds. That's why Mother is being nice to you."
Aelle looked furious. Tears stood in her eyes. He would learn Aelle never cried unless she was angry.
She said, "He is not dead. At least I have a father."
He immediately felt sorry for her. Why was he so stupid? "I’m sorry. Don’t cry. He’s not dead."
She rubbed her nose and got up, wandering around the dark room. "Let’s go out. It’s boring in here."
"I don’t like it out there. I can’t fly. I can’t do fire. And Niico is there."
The first time he'd been scorched, he figured he'd been no more than 5 or 6. He'd been burned across the backs of his legs by Niico, who had recently fledged and was showing off his new little wings. He'd stumbled home to tell his mother, who'd taken a look at him and said, "Can you walk?" He nodded, trying not to cry. (She hated when he cried.) "Then you will heal."
She turned her attention back to her maid, and continued planning the evening meal. It wasn't the last time Niico had gotten a strike on him, but it was the last time he'd cried to his mother.
Aelle nodded. She'd been a target as well, as they all had at one time or another.
"They get you. The bigger ones. They used to get me too, until I fledged." She brightened. "And I got
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