The Ill-Made Mute
Chapter One
THE HOUSE OF THE STORMRIDERS: Tale and Travail
Unremembered, yesterday is extinct.
Without yesterday, today has no meaning.
Who are you, if forgotten?
Who are you, but the sum of your memories?
Despite being immured within the dark, airless, walled spaces of the
Tower, despite the fact that he was badly informed and struggling to
comprehend his plight, the foundling came to understand that in some
way the existence of Stormrider Houses revolved around horses. The
sound of horses echoed from unexpected directions in the dominite
cavities, the warm scent of them wafted suddenly to the nostrils
from Outside, along with a thicker, avian odor as of caged birds.
Horses were hoisted up and down the towers in lift-cages, and horses
were kept in stalls in the upper stories. When he began Outside
work, the newest and most lowly menial of the House was able to
divine their purpose.
One morning the foundling was sent Outside to a balcony, to trounce
the dust from floor-rugs. Flat-based cumulus clouds floated
tranquilly like latherings of soap bubbles on invisib ... read full excerpt from The Ill-Made Mute ebook