The gold steps curved away from him the winds pushed at him like children, tumbled past him. Morgon, following them, drawn to the huge, bright structure, put one hand flat on its blue-black wall, one foot on its first step. The winds sped past like wild horses, pouring through empty rooms, thundering down the street to spiral the tower and moan through its secret chamber. Morgon, left to his own in the hollow, singing city, wandered through the roofless halls and wall-less chambers, between piles of broken stones rooted deep to the earth by long grass.
He opened the door aimlessly once to look for Astrin the wind tore it from his grip, sent it crashing back and fought with him, face-to-face, as he edged it closed. The wind rose hours after sunset he grew uneasy, feeling them pull at the joints of the small house, heave at it as if to uproot it. Morgon, brushing dirt off pieces of pottery they had found, waited patiently. "I'll be there, in that chamber without a roof. I took a chip off these great stones also to Danan Isig he said he knew of no place in the High One's realm where they quarried such stone."He touched Morgon briefly, to get his eyes. Who were the Earth-Masters?What terrible thing happened to them that destroyed them and their cities? I play like a child among the bones of it, finding a fine Stone here, a broken plate there, hoping that one day I find a key to the mystery of it, the beginning of an answer. I think at the top of that tower there must lie the answer to questions so old we've forgotten to ask them. Aloil tried he walked up its stairs for seven days and seven nights and never reached the end of them.
0 kommentar(er)
