Kavin's World Read Free Page A

mechanisms. There was one diagram of what seemed to be a device like a catapult, but many of the others were beyond me.
    There was a small box containing tools with ivory handles, carving implements of some kind. With it were several blocks of wood, on which drawings and letters had been carved, all stained with ink. Then I saw another box, a little larger, and locked. I broke it open; this contained another kind of tool, which I regarded with a certain nervous familiarity, for these showed evidence of being used for certain work of magic. There was a black rod, with the correct markings, and a small knife; also vials of liquids and powders. A magician’s workbox, I knew, and closed it hurriedly.
    And finally, all the way into the corner, I found the ivory figure. Even in the dim yellow flicker of the lamp it was astonishingly beautiful. It was a small form, no bigger than a young child, carved by a master. It was the shape of a young girl, nude, leaning forward to thrust with a lance in one hand; her other hand was extended forward, palm up, as if to offer a gift. Its face was pointed, strange, and more beautiful than any human face.
    I carried all my loot above, into the cabin, my work quite forgotten, and wasted half the day examining it all. The figure I set up on a shelf, and sat for an hour staring at it. At last I heard footsteps on the deck above, and down into the cabin came Prince Hogir.
    “Where in the name of Nine and Three did you get that?” he asked in a peculiar voice.
    So I told him, showing him the secret place under the boards. He spent some time turning over the scrolls and the other moldy treasures, and returned at last to the ivory girl, to stare hard at her white form.
    “You don’t even know her name, do you, boy?” he said at last.
    “I’ve never seen such a figure before.”
    “Nor have I,” Hogir said, his eyes fixed on it. “But in certain old books I have heard of her. She is a goddess, of a people long since lost or scattered… still worshipped in some places, I believe. But I know of nowhere in these seas where she rules as a divinity… and the figure is not an old one, either. Strange…”
    “What’s her name?” I asked.
    “Her old name was Tana,” the Prince said. “In our tongue, ‘luck.’ Fortune, who slays with the left hand, gives riches with the right. Chance… a strange goddess to worship.”
    “She has one devotee left, then,” I said. “I give her my knee, since she’s got no others.” I dropped to a knee and bowed. “Great Tana, accept my homage. And I’ll name this ship for you… Kavin’s Luck.”
    Boys will sometimes do rash things, but I hope never to do anything more rash than that. It is not wise to go about committing oneself to unknown gods and goddesses; nor would I advise anyone else to ever do such a thing.
    It is very difficult to write down precisely what happened, just then. Certain things are impossible to describe, and words merely make the matter more obscure. However, I’ll try.
    There was a ringing sound, like that of very small bells, heard at a great distance. There was also a sharp, sweet scent, like a perfume, or like roses burning. And there was something much harder to describe, which was like the feeling of lightning in the air, or like many colors seen through closed eyes, or like the love of a woman, or a thousand other things. It was like all these, and it was not.
    After that, I got up, very pale, and looked at my uncle, Prince Hogir, who was even paler.
    “You may have done a very rash thing,” he said quietly. “But let us never speak of this again. However… the ship is undoubtedly yours, and it has a name. Kavin’s Luck…”

Two
     
    The Luck was her name, truly. The ivory Luck was mounted on a shelf in the great cabin, and a duplicate, carved in smooth white wood, rode the prow. I found the best carver of figureheads in the port, and paid him well; the figure was the same, though twice the size.
    I gave her wine,