I am shocked by how young the boys appear. Tamra was carving a Spirit Mask into the Tree the day the boys arrive. Narayan is the sum of what they must learn. Narayan, he says, is where their lessons come together. He says, they will not understand how your words fit together, but they will use them to open the shield. He told me they would come through the book. The first time, Atrus asked me to meet them. I think his sons came to visit us twice. I strain and strain and strain but nothing sticks. The fog rolls so thick around me, even if I hold my hand in front of my eyes I barely see it. Maybe months at a time when I can’t remember what I’ve done. You must not let the fog come and swallow you. This is why I said he could send me his sons. As soon as it was near he threw the net and dragged it in. Atrus stood beside me, holding his breath as my song drew the hollow spore in close. That should support your new daughter’s room perfectly, I think. Small enough to fit the niche we’d woven into the branches that morning. He says they look like pearls against the sky. We stand in the shadows of dusk and watch the spores begin to rise. The puffer spores are ready to take flight. I take him to the rift, to where the sea flows through gaps in the world. How by using the spores to support the growing branches, we keep the Lattice Tree alive. How to splice old and new growths together so the walls of our houses will grow strong. I taught him how to trim the delicate Lattice roots. He says he wants to help, if we will let him. He says it’s Atrus.Ītrus says he’s come to our village from a faraway place because he wanted to learn about the Tree. His eyes are covered by thick glasses but his face is warm and friendly. He carried a book in his hands then too and he’s always using it. Wearing those same strange flowing brown robes. I think this man may have come to our village. I do not want those swirling arms to touch me. I want to close my eyes, to shut out these false illusions before they suck me into the fog. The book sits on the floor of the tusk, its swirling panel reaching tentacle-like arms out to grab me. I did not let the numbness steal my mind. The fog tried to swallow me then and there but I held on to the firm reality of the book and did not let it. And when I reach down to grab it, it is real. It was only later - hours? or weeks later? - that I find his swirling book atop the cliff. And before I think to stand, he opens his book. The man stands on the cliff with a book in his hand, staring down at the lagoon as if something made him sad. I think that Death has finally come for me. I don’t know for how long or how I get here. It was the dream that first helped me remember. But if I concentrate, I get pieces of it back. Whole blocks of time still floating in the fog that eats my mind. Voltaic, dry dock, on the platform above the valve tower Voltaic, electromagnet chamber, on the floor in front of cylinder KIĪmateria, caverns, at the top of the elevator to the lookout ramp Voltaic, chasm gantry, at the bottom of the corkscrew elevatorĮdanna, forest, past the first fig pod on the path to the yellow-lit passage J’nanin, second floor of the observatory, on the floor near the Edanna telescopeĪmateria, Turntable Tracks, just inside the gate EntryĮdanna, forest, in the hollow branch leading to the swampĪmateria, Resonance Rings, on the control platform Saavedro scattered the remaining entries throughout four Ages, and they are added back to the journal as you come across them. When you find the journal, it contains only six entries (marked with an asterisk * below). Saavedro’s journal is located on J’nanin, on a hammock in the lower room of the central tusk.
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