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Kirith Kirin is like no other fantasy that you have ever read. Jim Grimsley has created a fantasy that could have come right from our world where power and greed can tempt, and sometimes conquer, even the most rightist person and where knowing who your friends and enemies are can be very difficult if not impossible. Yet it is not our world. For in Kirith Kirin's world magic is real, immortals walk the land, and people are sometimes the playthings for the dark arts. The Blue Queen, upon resuming the throne while King Kirith Kirin's eternality is renewed in the Arthen forest, has partnered with a magician of the dark arts. No longer does she need to leave the throne to renew her eternal nature. Swayed by promises of the dark magician, she has claimed the throne forever and is extending her influence to the far corners of the world. Malleable grey clouds, sidewinding wind, and intelligent lightning bolts made the trip across the vast Girdle nearly impossible. Out of nowhere, the Blue Queen's Patrols made haste to kill the boy and the warrior before they could safely reach the deep forest of Arthen. Riding upon two magnificent stallions, one a royal Prince out of Queen Mnemarra, Jessex and his uncle Sivisal reached Arthen despite a deadly storm that reeked of magic. Thus begins Jessex's new life as he enters Arthen and moves into the royal court of Kirith Kirin.
figure on horseback raised the arm for yet another try. I gripped the necklace and sang Kimri. When the storm seemed to abate a little I touched the necklace more firmly, and sang Kimri in a loud voice, “We are in the darkness, give us a light. We who have hope have need, light in the darkness.” The white figure diminished. The storm lessened; no bolt of lightning fell. My uncle entered Arthen with the arrow in his arm. He joined me and we stopped to look back into the outer world where the
one. His shadow can’t engulf it. And it seems clear from other signs, from the little we’ve contested with each other so far, that he wasn’t ready for so much at once. He’s stretched.” “So if we move now, or at least as quickly as we can, we may gain some advantage,” Imral said. “While he’s encamped in Vyddn,” Kirith Kirin murmured, “before he can send an army north.” Karsten said, “I like the plan. Can we do it?” “My father can have troops in Maugritaxa in ten days. So can we, if we
mother. The girl, Mikif, could not remember much after a point. But my soldiers said your mother was taken south.” He had said all he could say. For a moment I was too stunned to feel. I remembered the story of Commiseth and his daughter Sergil. My poor Mikif. I pictured her as I had heard Sergil described, her face broken, her back a mass of welts; I hardly knew I was still crying or that Uncle Sivisal was still near me. “Jessex,” he was saying, “Jessex,” he whispered it like a chant in my
outside. When I was dressed she walked me to camp, where everyone in the world had put on festival colors. The big eating tables had been set up under a broad tent made of colored streamers draped over tree branches. Kirith Kirin’s engineers had built a stone hearth inside the tent and a big fire roared there, warming pots of spiced wines and other drinks. The center tables were bowed down with food and cooks were wandering from table to table, flushed from their efforts, admiring their
real. The mind-space is as valid as any other. When you speak Words there, the world beyond will change but the mind-space will not. The mind-space will always be the space where all things already exist as you wish. When you speak Words there, you will speak to eleven directions of the world. When we spoke in Jisraegen, she called that space the “kei”. It was a word from old stories for when a magician was in the clouds on the High Place. Grandmother Fysyyn taught it to me. Commyna left me