August 17, 2008

Let the Word Take Me p.17

might return home to the Lands with my Tale.

Today High Elder Sarinu-mudi heard me speak of my journey. We stood within the lips of the Mouth of Singing Crystal, where the slightest claw-tap is transformed into echoing music. Before him I felt like a blaspheming child – worse, a heretic. Lucky indeed to receive his patience and tolerance, luckier, that he has seen fit to grant my request to appear in the House of Leaves and to have my Trial judged before the People in the presence of David and the other simians, Arthur and Monroe.

How did young Reomus feel on his return from Trial, bringing amphibious companions from south of the Lands? The gathering speaks of him as confident, triumphant in expanding the reach of the People. Yet his companions gestured like children, and did not lay claim to the Word as mine do. David has tried to restrain his possessed tongue – another sign that he is worthy to be heard – yet I see Arthur press him with simian calls, and I am afraid.

Afraid, for I am no longer a child, but not yet among the mudi, and still I shall bring strangers to the House of Leaves.

May the Word save me.


David sweated with more than rainforest heat, standing in a dense thicket of sonamo outside the House of Leaves. As much as they'd talked in the presence of the nebula, Allayo hadn't said a single word to him since, and he couldn't for the life of him figure

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