“I’ve remembered my name,” Khalim said. “Will you help me?”
The moon-faced owl preened the crook of one wing with its beak. “And why should I do that, little one?”
Khalim walked to the base of the arch on which the owl perched, beside the stair that led to the temple he could never open. “Why do you call me that? I’m larger than you.”
“Is that what you see?”
He nodded. He was half as tall as the arch, and though the owl’s wings were broad, he guessed he could hold its body in his arms.
The owl lowered its wing and studied him with one eye. “Interesting. And what do you look like?”
It was a strange question, seeing as the owl was looking him in the face, but Khalim would play along. The last thing he wished to do was offend the only being he had seen in such a long time—perhaps forever. He wasn’t sure. He looked down at his hands.
For a brief flash, he saw what he expected to see—brown skin, calluses, the frayed hem of a sleeve. Then his flesh turned to white marble, with two black veins twining up each of his wrists. His clothing became ridges of stone, exquisitely carved of the same material that formed the walls of the citadel.
Continue reading “Journey to the Water Interlude One: Citadel Gate”
Space Whales Press 