Free The First Life of Tanan by Andrew Riley

disappear.  Anin left the road and found the trail that led to Soama’s Abbey.
    Tanan followed along, silently.  He was in a fog, replaying the incident over and over in his mind.  When Grapf hit him in the head with the rock, things had gone fuzzy.  Tanan could still see the look of amusement on Grapf’s face when he threw the second rock.  He had looked at Tanan as if he were nothing, a plaything that only existed for amusement.
    Why had the Constable been killed?  Tanan had been thinking about the protection spell, but that wouldn’t kill someone would it?  His grandfather said it was an accident.
    Tanan wished he’d read about the spell before he learned the chant.
    They walked through the afternoon and into the night, neither of them speaking until they reached Soama’s Abbey.
    “Wait here,” Anin said, putting his hand on Tanan’s chest to make the boy stop.  He went up to the Abbey while Tanan stood waiting in the dark.  Tanan was surprised to find that they were already at the Abbey.
    A few minutes later, Anin came back and led Tanan to the building where Soama was waiting.  Soama led Tanan to the room where he had slept during his month long stay, and helped Tanan take off his boots and get into bed.
    Tanan was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
    Tanan was feeling better when he woke up, but still emotionally drained.
    Soama was in the room, opening curtains and letting sunlight flood into the room.  It was well past morning.
    “Please stay in bed for a moment,” Soama said and then left the room.
    Anin came in a minute later with his mortar and a flat wooden stick.  “I’m going to treat your blisters so they’ll heal more quickly.”  He began to smear smelly ointment on what Tanan suddenly realized were painful blisters from his new boots.
    “The good news,” said Anin with a slight smile, “is that you’ve broken in your new boots.  Let that dry for a few minutes and then you can come out and have something to eat.”  He left the room.
    Tanan thought about what had happened the day before.  He hadn’t meant to kill the Constable.  He would never even really want to hurt Grapf, he’d just lost his temper.  He’d been chanting the spell and thinking about the rune when Grapf hit him with the rock.  Grandfather was right; it was an accident.  But knowing that didn’t make him feel any better about it.
    He got up and went to the kitchen.  There was a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread waiting on the table for him.  Soama and his father were sitting at the table.
    “Good morning, Tanan,” said Soama. “Sit down and have something to eat.”
    Tanan sat at the table and started eating the soup without really tasting it.
    “Your father told me some of what happened,” began Soama.  “I need you to tell me the whole story.”
    Tanan told Soama, leaving out nothing and finishing with his theory about the protection incantation.  Soama listened without interrupting.
    When Tanan had finished, Soama said, “Can you tell me the words of the spell?”
    Tanan didn’t want to say them, but didn’t argue.  Softly, he chanted the words of the spell, using the melody he had set them to.
    Soama repeated the words back, without the melody.  “Those are the words?” he asked.
    Tanan nodded.  He fought back the urge to cry.
    Soama described the symbol that went along with the spell and Tanan nodded again.
    “You shouldn’t be able to perform that spell.  No novice should be able to make that spell work.”
    Tanan finished his soup and, by force of habit, cleaned his dish and put it away, and then sat back down.  Soama was staring into the distance, deep in thought.
    “Here’s what I think happened,” Soama said. “And I think that I have underestimated your abilities.”
    Tanan studied the pattern of the wood on the tabletop and wished he were someone else.
    “Tanan!” said Soama, sharply.
    Tanan’s head whipped up and he looked at