Tag Archives: Ship’s Heart

“Crow’s wing, they call my sort of hair, on Karis,” the Ship’s Doctor explained, “and yours, little sisters and brother, they call storm-cloud or lamb’s-wool.” All those names were poetical borrowings from the vocabulary of the Original World, archaic and … Continue reading →

Between the tall windows of the refectory hung panels showing robed figures fishing from reed-boats. Yasmin spooned up pea-and-bean stew (“your third serving!” Jehen had said, “just how are you going to dance?”). The panel opposite their table showed an … Continue reading →

In the center loomed up a monument, unlit, a bulk of shadow against the stars; Martisset squinted into the darkness to make out details–hooves and legs of a horse, leg of the rider–then no longer needed to, as Martisset the … Continue reading →

The gene-parents and the co-parents explained it all to them, as they rehearsed the steps of the vortex dance, how the ship came every year with supplies for Sarronny Dome, by treaty, and also by treaty they took away with … Continue reading →

The feasting the next day was more subdued, as the dancers had been up all night. The children were bright-eyed, as were the apprentices not yet of age. It was their turn to bring out the food, and to supervise … Continue reading →

Yasmin had worried that she might not catch the baton properly in her turn, or manage the hand-drums or striking-sticks, but once she was part of the great vortex, she flowed with it; she felt her chest vibrate with the … Continue reading →

“Ooh!” Yasmin said. “What do you see?” “I see the heat playing through you all, and the cold spots in the Dome, and the storms overhead, and the hush-and-rush of our blood, like the tides of the Ancient Sea.” “Is … Continue reading →