Free The Invisible Tower by Nils Johnson-Shelton Page B

it.”
    â€œFantastic!”
    â€œThen what happens?”
    â€œI’m sorry, my boy, but my time is up. Till we meet again!”
    And just like that, the image faltered and reverted to the video game, and Nitwit the Gray stood in a dark, snowy wood near the frozen Vale of Goch. Caladirth’s cave was in front of him, and a large ice bear was rising from behind a boulder to his left. It was a middling creature—Nitwit had slain dozens. Artie reflexively fiddled with the controller, killed the bear, paused the game, sat down on the floor, and breathed deeply as his mind spun.

9
IN WHICH KING ARTIE AND SIR KAY ENGAGE IN SOME SWORDPLAY!
    Over the next few days Kay and Artie settled into a rhythm of sword practice and messing with Kynder. Merlin was right—enchanted Kynder was more puppet than father.
    Fooling with him was a blast. They made him stand on his head in the backyard for thirty minutes. They told him they wouldn’t be doing their chores for a while and he’d have to pick up the slack. They made him sing songs and dance for them. They had him make chocolate-chip pancakes with spray-can whipped cream for dinner every night.
    They also had him put a bunch of stuff around the backyard: an adult-sized dummy made of burlap sacks, old sheets, and wood; plastic jugs and bottles full of water; and dozens of bales of hay. All of these were to be ravaged by Cleomede.
    Courtesy of the swordsmanship book, Artie and Kay learned the following about their new weapon: that it was an arming sword, which was more commonly known as a broadsword; that it was double-edged and had a double fullered blade, which meant there were two grooves, or “blood channels,” that ran its length; that the leather-wrapped handle was called the hilt; that the flared bar above it was called the crossguard; and that the heavy clamshell-shaped thing at the hilt’s end was called the pommel.
    To Artie and Kay, it was undoubtedly the coolest thing they’d ever seen.
    The book taught them how to attack and defend, how to position themselves properly, and how to move their feet so they could most effectively slice their opponent to bits while avoiding the same fate for themselves.
    And then there was what Cleomede taught Artie and Kay all on its own.
    For one, Cleomede had feelings and passed them on to whoever was holding it. When it sliced through the burlap, they felt each strand of the sack breaking along its edge; when it cut through the water in the plastic bottles, they knew if it was warm or cold; when it sailed through the hay, they could tell if it was grass or clover.
    Another cool thing was that no matter how long they worked with it, they never got tired or achy or run-down. It was like it refreshed them—the harder they practiced, the better they felt.
    Then there was the fact that it could cut through just about anything. It effortlessly sliced through empty bottles that a stiff breeze would have knocked over; it chopped wood like it was made of butter; it cut a glass bottle in two without shattering either half; it also severed a steel fire poker pretty dang easily.
    â€œThis thing is freaking awesome,” Artie said after halving the poker.
    Kay wasn’t about to deny it.
    As they practiced over the course of the week, Kynder drifted in and out of the yard, being careful not to get in their way. He never criticized anything they did. He cleaned up after them without complaining, and replaced their targets with new ones whenever asked. He was so at ease with all the mayhem Cleomede had brought into their yard that, by midweek, Artie and Kay started to feel guilty about making Kynder do all the silly things they’d made him do.
    At one point, as he reconstructed the burlap-and-wood dummy for the twentieth time, Kynder turned to Kay with a puzzled look and asked, “Can you remind me again what it is you’re doing, Kay?”
    Kay smiled at her father and said, “Sword