Glasswrights' Progress by Mindy L Klasky

here. I promise. You were right. I was leaving the king’s army. I don’t want to be a soldier anymore.”
    â€œHe’ll find you, though. He’ll track you down and bring you back to his camp.”
    â€œBut I won’t tell about you! I promise!”
    â€œYou’ll have no choice. We’ve heard stories about the king, about what he does to the children who desert him.”
    â€œNo worse than what your lions will do to me!”
    â€œThey’ll do what they need to. They’ll do what’s best for all of us.”
    â€œFor all of you . Not for me.” Crestman’s voice broke across his harsh whisper. “You know they’ll kill me.” His eyes brimmed with tears.
    â€œI know nothing of the sort. Father Nariom has taught my little owls well. They’ll think on this and decide what is right. Now, are you going to eat or not? I need to sweep the floor.”
    For a moment, she thought that Crestman would send her away. Then, the boy’s belly rumbled, loud enough that she could hear it in the close room. “I’ll eat.”
    She fed him the bitter gruel, using the spoon to wipe spilled porridge from his chin. She ignored the tears that trickled down his cheeks, silver against the scar from his missing tattoo.
    The sun was setting by the time the other children returned to the cottage. Shea heard them before she saw them; their voices bounced off the trees. When the group emerged from the forest, they were in high spirits, singing and whooping. Four of the children held strings of fish – lithe, silver trout that danced in the dying sunlight.
    Shea crowed praise for her charges, lavishing compliments as Tain cooked supper. She longed to give some of the flaky fish to Crestman, but she dared not. She had replaced his gag at the first sound of the other children, and now she tried to ignore the guilt that tugged at the back of her mind.
    Hartley turned to her when everyone had finished eating, after the children had sucked the sweet flesh from heads and tails and fins. Shea’s belly tightened at the grave expression on his face. “We’ve decided. Crestman must die.”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œWe have no choice. If we let him go, he’ll likely be caught by King Sin Hazar’s men. When they’re through torturing him, they’ll come after us. At the very least, they’ll take Serena and conscript my lions. They might take all the boys. They might burn down the house. They might kill us all.”
    â€œSo we’ll keep him. We’ll make him one of us!”
    â€œWe can’t trust him, Shea, and I don’t have enough lions to watch him every day. The owls finally agreed. We’ll take him down to the stream and drown him. It will look like an accident, in case any of King Sin Hazar’s soldiers come through here later.”
    â€œHe’s just a boy!” Shea exclaimed in anguish, and the words sounded oddly familiar, as if she had wailed them in the past.
    â€œHe’s a soldier.”
    â€œDid all of you agree to this?” Shea rounded on the other children. Tain returned her
stare placidly. Some of the younger suns looked abashed, but the lions all stared back without
blinking. Shea caught a couple of the owls tilting their heads, studying her as if she were some
curious specimen.
    Torino stepped forward and nodded deferentially. “All of us discussed it. We owls debated it for the better part of the day. There are no alternatives – the soldier must die.”
    â€œCrestman! Say his name, at least.”
    Torino shook his head. “His name has no meaning. He’s the enemy. His death will enable us all to live.”
    Shea looked at her charges. Hartley gazed back with the solemn expression he used when he assigned his lions their guardposts. Torino blinked hard, but his face betrayed no emotion.
    I want things the way they were. Shea thought. I want my own son and daughter. They