Page 18 of Killian
“Maybe if we keep going, we’ll meet some more, or it will get used to us,” continued Killian.
“Maybe,” said Moira, with a sniff. She felt disheartened. She was in the dark without her memory, sprites found her terrifying, and she was thinking weird thoughts about her hair. “I don’t think I like this adventure anymore.”
Killian chuckled. “I was actually thinking that this is the most amazing adventure ever.”
“We scared a tiny sprite!”
“But wesawa tiny sprite! It glowed and flew and had a flower for a hat! It did smell a bit like it had been rolling in mushrooms, but how many people can say that they’ve seen a sprite?”
“Probably not that many, but with our memory problems, it could be everyone for all we know.”
“I don’t think so. Otherwise, your book would have had photos instead of drawings.”
“Well, that’s true,” said Moira, feeling cheered. “But I can’t help feeling like I’ve forgotten something… big.”
“I know what you mean,” said Killian thoughtfully. “Something sort of fundamental and glaringly obvious, but also just out of reach.”
“Well, at least it’s not just me,” said Moira.
“Well, I expect we’ll remember it at some point, right? I mean, you’ve remembered your grandfather, and I remembered Hudson and…” She could feel him straining to put a name to his memory. “The other one.” He sighed. “This is so frustrating. It’s like I have it for a second, and then it fades away.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Moira. “I keep thinking it will clear up. Like, like, being drunk. I keep thinking if I drink some water and take a minute, I’ll be less foggy.”
“Actually, I could really use some water,” said Killian, and Moira groaned.
“I wish I hadn’t said that because now I’m thirsty too.”
“Well, with all these plants, there has to be some water around,” said Killian. “And I don’t think anyone’s going to show up with a sarmie, so we might as well keep going.”
“I suppose,” said Moira, still feeling gloomy. “What’s a sarmie?”
“Sandwich,” said Killian.
“I feel like I should have known that one,” said Moira as they descended the stairs toward the path. “The light is definitely brighter than it was a few minutes ago.” She peered up at the crystals on the nearest pillar. It was now a pale sort of candle-like glow. The light barely gave shape to the darkness, but it made her feel better. They walked along the path of yellowed stone. The surface was odd, and Moira couldn’t figure out why. Finally, she bent down to touch it.
“It’s not really stone, is it? It’s some sort of concrete?”
“It’s Roman,” said Killian with absolute confidence. “They used pozzolana, that’s volcanic ash, and lime in their concrete.”
“And you know this because?”
Killian was silent. “Yeah, I got nothing. Maybe because I live in Greece?”
It was as good an explanation as any, but it made Moira depressed again. It felt like Killian knew all sorts of cool things. Had she ever been anywhere but Oregon?
They walked onward. The light grew steadily brighter, and soon they could see the lush foliage of the plants around them. Thick vines twined around the pillars, but the ceiling remained shrouded in a cloud-like mist.
“Do you think this is still a library?” asked Killian. “I see the pillars, but it feels and smells like outside.”
“I think I see some sort of structure over there,” said Moira, pointing. It had the odd, multiple-rooflines and sharp endpoints that Moira associated with Thailand. “Do you think we should see if we can get to it? Maybe there are people there. Or, ooh! Elves! I would love to meet an elf.”
“You don’t think it could just be other humans?” asked Killian.
“Well, if there are sprites, maybe there are other Fae species. All the different elf races, dryads, naiads, all of those. Then there’s fairies, pixies, brownies, huldra, hopefully not any drow, but there could be anything!”
“How…” Killian was gaping at her. “How do you know all of those?”
“I don’t know. Probably from Grandpa’s book?”
