Read Online Kirith Kirin (The City Behind the Stars) by Jim Grimsley - Free Book Online Page A

took me back to the dream, and when I recognized him I felt as if I couldn’t get breath. He had not arrived by boat this time. Yet he must be a ghost, too. He appeared not much older than Sim but was stronger of body. He wore a light tunic and riding boots. He had a rich mouth, olive-colored lips perfectly shaped, flaring. His eyes were black as night, his skin tawny, between bronze and gold. He spoke to me intently in that ringing speech again, and I heard fear in his voice. I said, quickly, “I’m a farm boy from the north country. The only language I understand is the one I’m speaking.”
     
    His relief was obvious. In Upcountry he said, “You’re not one of the ghosts?”
     
    “No, sir. Are you?”
     
    He laughed, a warm, lively sound. “No, I’m not a ghost either. So we’re both all right that way.”
     
    His horse blew out breath impatiently. The man went on watching me, without hurry. “I heard you singing Kithilunen. You sing well. How do you know that song if you can’t speak true Jisraegen?”
     
    “My grandmother taught it to me. I know what most of the words mean.”
     
    “I heard you from very far away,” he said. “I’ve waited for that song for a long time. Do you know where you are?”
     
    I took a deep breath. “I’m in a courtyard where there was once a glass fountain. Over there is what’s left. Did you know about the fountain?”
     
    “Yes. You know, your disappearance caused quite a stir in your camp.”
     
    “Have you been there? Is my uncle angry?”
     
    He laughed. “Yes, I’ve been to your camp. Your uncle is concerned, not angry. He had just noticed you were missing when I arrived and his friends were getting ready to search for you, even though they’re afraid of this city. I offered to search for you myself.” He stepped closer. I could not tell how old he was, any more. “How did you think you would find your way back so far at night?”
     
    The thought had never occurred to me. I stared stupidly toward the river. “I would have walked along the canal the way I came.”
     
    When he stepped closer I felt a flood of the dream returning; at the same time he lifted my face to catch the moonlight, touching me easily; I hardly gave it note. “You’re like a boy from ten thousand years ago. Arthen is the true home of your blood.” He paused, a slight guardedness to his expression. “Do you know who I am?”
     
    The question made my heart pound. Because I did know. “You’re Kirith Kirin,” I said.
     
    He went on watching me without comment or sign of surprise. His horse called him and other horses approached, torchlight flickering on the arched entryways and then on the ruined flagstone of the courtyard. The black haired man stood there as if he heard nothing. A woman’s voice rose clear and strong, a question.
     
    “I’m on the quay,” he answered, speaking Upcountry. “Where the boat landing used to be. If you look you can see me.”
     
    “Don’t be clever, I don’t have Venladrii silver in my eyes. Why are you speaking Upcountry?” She had switched to that language herself however. The woman rode her horse forward. “Some of Imral’s men have joined us. They crossed the bridge anyway, the boy’s uncle and some other folk. Have you found anything here? Do you think he could be the voice we heard?”
     
    “Yes of course he could,” Kirith Kirin said, and laughed. “He’s right here in front of me, I found him exactly as I told you I would. Send Imral word the boy’s all right, and tell his uncle too.”
     
    She rode her horse toward us impatiently, then thought better of it. “Well, are you planning to be down there for very long? No one wants to be here after dark.”
     
    “For heaven’s sake Karsten, do as I’ve asked. I trust I won’t keep you waiting beyond your patience.”
     
    She said, “At your service, oh prince,” as she rode away, and he laughed again watching her. When he turned to me his voice was gentler.