IN THE MOUNTAINS OF FIRE

       

Deirdre's hungry stumble captures the essence of a number of vague dreams.

Dreams often showed Damien with one musical instrument or another strapped across his back, and I knew him as the Bard of the Revolution, so I had to write a song for him.  Soon in my story it became the anthem of the revolution.  While I did dream of the children singing all together as they marched, the song in my dream was actually Loreena McKennitt’s “All Soul’s Night”.  I don’t think my lyrics match the tune, but they do match the guiding philosophy of these unfortunate warrior-children.  I don’t even know the lyrics to “All Soul’s Night”, frankly, and had to look up which song matched the tune that I heard.  Having done so, I suppose I can see some tie-in here, between the Charadocian revolution and McKennitt's song.  But you will learn more about Charadocian attitudes about the dead in time.

            I remember the broad-leafed vine in my dreams, and grinding the roots.  I woke thinking of it as “catawlba.”  Research showed that “catalba” or “catawba” are names for a genus of tree.  I changed the name in my notes, then, thinking that I had just picked up on something overheard, but it never did feel right.  Then when I finally saw pictures of catalbas, I realized that they had the exact same leaves as the vine in my dream. I figured that earth colonists must have named it because of the leaves, even though it's a vine—another case of seeing a similarity and naming a Novatierran thing after something familiar.

I added the perspective of the policeman’s wife for balance.  The greatest value I see in writing from Deirdre’s dyslectic-telepathic viewpoint is the opportunity to show all sides at once.

Rashid’s grim story provides just a glimpse of nightmares yet to come.  I invented the conversation, but I dreamed--vividly—about what it alludes to.