Wild Magic

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These are things you might like to know, she says. Names, geography and rule. If such things^-bore you, ignore them.

This is the LAND, this is Zam Fadogurtun. The titular ruler, the Amrapake, is Famtoche

Banddah, the real power mostly lies in the hands of the Maulapam-this never changes. The First City, the Seat of Rule, is Gom Cor-

asso; little that is important happens there. The city below us, Bairroa Pili, is called the second city though the part that is occupied is twice the size of Corasso; it is the Mill of

Plenty, grinding out the wealth of the Land. Kasso is priest.

Kassian is priestess.

The Temples are called Camuctarrs.

She sighs and changes the position of her hands. I remember everything.

I remember Chumavayal dancing down Abeyhamal. I remember language changing, law and custom, myth and history, all changing.

I remember Bairroa Pili moving from the Low City to the High, the Low City sealed and sleeping.

I remember Chumavayal as a screaming babe, a raging youth, a splendid man. As the years turned on the spindle of time, his beauty grew stolid, his alertness faded, until he became what he is today, iron grown brittle with time, jealous of the youth he once had, hoarding his strength like a miser hoards gold.

I remember Abeyhamal as a screaming babe, an impatient child, a sullen girl; she is a woman now, arro-

gant in her young splendor, beating her wings against the power that imprisons her.