A Thousand Steps into Night

by Traci Chee

Miuko was average by every conceivable standard—beauty, intelligence, the circumference of her hips—except for one. She was uncommonly loud.

She's just like me fr

“I think you believe you ought to be small,” he said softly, almost meditatively. “I think you have been taught that greatness does not belong to you, and that to want it is perverse. I think you have folded yourself into the shape that others expect of you; but that shape does not suit you, has never suited you, and all your young life, you have been dying to be free of it.”

“Geiki . . .” She allowed herself a smile. “That’s brilliant.” He preened. “I’m a very smart bird.” “Humble, too.” “Oh yes, I’m more humble than anyone else.”

Me core #perfect

In somewhat stilted verse, the poem described how everyday curses, such as those inflicted by fox spirits or petty demons, could be eliminated by common priests, but only the followers of Amyunasa, the December God, could remove a curse as formidable as the kiss of a shaoha.

“It’s not hurt if it’s gift. We help you, you help us. That’s how it works, yes? Everyone needs everyone, and no one gets what they want alone.”

Grunting, Miuko pulled herself onto his back, where she turned to Senara, extending her hand. “Come on. There is so much more out there than this.” The girl’s eyes glittered—with tears, or perhaps excitement. “For a girl?” “For anyone brave enough to look.”