Free Black dawn by Lisa J. Smith Page A

child who had been treated as a weapon from the time he was born. It was all about some prophecy. She saw men and women gathered around a little boy, four years old, whose black lashed golden eyes were wide and frightened.
     
    "No question about it," the oldest man was say ing. Delos's teacher, Maggie realized, the knowl edge flowing to her because Delos knew it, and she was in
Delos
's mind.
     
    "This child is one of the Wild Powers," the teacher said, and his voice was full of awe and fear. His trembling hands smoothed out a brittle piece of scroll. As soon as Maggie saw it she knew that the scroll was terribly old and had been kept in the
Dark
Kingdom
for centuries, preserved here even when it was lost to the outside world.
     
    "Four Wild Powers," the old man said, "who will be needed at the millennium to save the world-or- to destroy it. The prophecy tells where they will come from." And he read:
     
    "One from the land of kings long forgotten; One from the hearth which still holds the spark;
    One from the Day World where two eyes are watching; One from the twilight to be one with the dark. ",
     
    The child
Delos
looked around the circle of grim faces, hearing the words but not understanding them.
     
    "'The land of kings, long forgotten,"' a woman was saying. "That must be the
Dark
Kingdom
."
     
    "Besides, we've seen what he can do," a big man said roughly. "He's a Wild Power, all right. The blue fire is in his blood. He's learned to use it too early, though; he can't control it. See?"
     
    He grabbed a small arm-the left one-and held it up. It was twisted somehow, the fingers clawed and stiff, immobile.
     
    The little boy tried to pull his hand away, but he was too weak. The adults ignored him.
     
    "The king wants us to find spells to hold the power in," the woman said. "Or he'll damage him self permanently."
     
    "Not to mention damaging us," the rough man said, and laughed harshly.
     
    The little boy sat stiff and motionless as they handled him like a doll. His golden eyes were dry and his small jaw was clenched with the effort not to give in to tears.
     
    That's awful, Maggie said indignantly, aiming her thought at the
Delos
of the present. It's a terrible way to grow up. Wasn't there anybody who cared about you? Your father?
    Go away, he said. I don't need your sympathy.
     
    And your arm, Maggie said, ignoring the cold emptiness of his thought. Is that what happens to it when you use the blue fire?
    He didn't answer, not in a thought directed at her. But another memory flashed in the facets of a crystal, and Maggie found herself drawn into it.
     
    She saw a five-year-old
Delos
with his arm wrapped in what looked like splints or a brace. As she looked at it, she knew it wasn't just a brace. It was made of spells and wards to confine the blue fire.
     
    "This is it," the woman who had spoken before was saying to the circle of men. "We can control him completely."
     
    "Are you sure? You witches are careless some times. You're sure he can't use it at all now?" The man who said it was tall, with a chilly, austere face-and yellow eyes like
Delos
's.
     
    Your father, Maggie said wonderingly to
Delos
. And his name was ... Tormentil ? But ... She couldn't go on, but she was thinking that he didn't look much like a loving father. He seemed just like the others.
     
    "Until I remove the wards, he can't use it at all. I'm sure, majesty." The woman said the last word in an everyday tone, but Maggie felt a little shock. Hearing somebody get called majesty-it made him more of a king, somehow.
     
    "The longer they're left on, the weaker he'll be,"
     
    the woman continued. "And he can't take them off himself. But I can, at any time--"
     
    "And then he'll still be useful as a weapon?" "Yes. But blood has to run before he can use the blue fire."
     
    The king said brusquely, "Show me."
     
    The woman murmured a few words and stripped the brace off the boy's arm. She took a knife from her belt and with a quick, casual