by Philip Reeve
His listeners looked blank. Someone said, “Who were they?”
“THEY LIVED LONG AGO. IT SEEMS ONLY YESTERDAY TO ME.”
The little girl who’d found Grike looked up at him and said, “Tell us!” Around her, people smiled and nodded, settling down cross-legged, waiting to see what stories he had brought for them out of the lost past. They liked stories. Grike felt, for a moment, almost afraid. He didn’t know how to begin.
He sat down on the chair they brought for him. He took the little girl on his lap. He watched dust motes dancing in the ancient sunlight that poured like honey through the hall’s long windows. And then he turned his face toward the expectant faces of the Once-Borns, and began.
“IT WAS A DARK, BLUSTERY DAY IN SPRING,” he said, “AND THE CITY OF LONDON WAS CHASING A SMALL MINING TOWN ACROSS THE DRIED-UP BED OF THE OLD NORTH SEA…”
The end
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Document ID: fbd-5bc14e-26fd-b448-2d87-fe7c-abca-f70bd0
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 06.06.2011
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
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