Moon-Flash
Patricia A. McKillip
Language: English
Pages: 304
ISBN: 0142403016
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Kyreol's small world begins at the Face, a high rock cliff, and ends at Fourteen Falls, a series of rapids. Each year, her people celebrate Moon-Flash—a spark of light that seems to come from and go into the moon, a symbol of life and joy. When a mysterious stranger arrives, Kyreol wants to know more about him, as well as the Moon-Flash, and soon she and her childhood friend Terje leave their home to look for answers. Those answers will pluck Kyreol from Riverworld and transform her life forever—by fast-forwarding her into a future she can barely comprehend.
not.” “Or fish. I’m hungry.” “Terje, where do you think words came from?” “It’s easier than drawing a picture every time you want something. Do you want me to listen to you? Or do you want me to go out and look for food?” “I want you to find the end of the world with me.” “Kyreol—” “I want to go so far that I won’t have any more questions. Then I want to come back to the Riverworld. The world is round. The Hunter showed me. So any path I take will lead me home.” “The Hunter.” He lifted his
for him: take him home, because he wouldn’t leave her. “All right, what?” His voice sounded strange. His eyes seemed as opaque as the water. “Terje. Let me just look at the faces. And then we’ll go home.” “All right.” But he couldn’t seem to move. She wondered if he even knew what she had said. “Terje—” “Kyreol—” They both stopped. Then they were both smiling, and his face was familiar again. He lifted the oars as though he had forgotten what he had been arguing about and rowed toward the
stop to cook it. Since he had been up most of the night, she rowed, and he slept until midday, when they found a secluded clearing where they could build a fire. Then he rowed, while she cast out the lines, caught more fish for their supper. The river grew deep and swift, carrying them farther and farther from the place of the dead, until, by evening, it seemed to have swept them into yet another world of bare, rolling hills, small groves of twisted trees and birds that flamed like scraps of the
noise in it—a pot banging, a child laughing or crying, Korre’s mother singing or calling to her children. Kyreol helped her with the cooking and took care of the younger children. She had never done either thing in her life, so for a while she was intrigued. She learned how to make fish soup and grind nuts into flour and to save all the feathers she plucked from birds for the many betrothal skirts the family would need. She showed the children how to crack seed pods in two to make tiny boats, and
beginning to think again. His cold hands were warming against a clay cup of tea he had chosen, recklessly and at random, from the jars and baskets in the house. “We have to do something,” he said for the sixth time. Regny nodded. He sipped his own tea and made a face. He put his cup down. “What is this?” “I don’t know. Regny, Korre’s mother has been telling people I’m the new Healer.” “She—” “She never questioned him. He was the Healer; he made the choice.” “This is getting out of hand.”