conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Rory, Starred, Review with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Secret Book of Sacred Things'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Secret Book of Sacred Things
  Today the sea traders came again. Last year they could not get through because a moonquake made the mountain pass they have always used collapse, blocking the trail. That was a bad year for all concerned. We got no salt fish and salt for preserving our beef, and the traders got no beef to take back to their home by the sea. We could not give salt to our herds and had to let them find natural salt licks in the forest, which we do not like to do because of the wolves. We lost two cows and three calves, and we missed eating fish, which is always a nice change from beef and goat. And that same moonquake that destroyed the trail also made the weather go strange again, with too much rain that washed away some of the corn crop, and the wheat yield was the worst anyone could remember. There was plenty of nightblaze at the same time, what they used to call aurora. I know that old word because I was called after it, but everyone calls me Rory, which used to be a boy's name sister Luka told me, but there are no boys in our valley called that. I am the only one.
  The trading field is in the village, too far away for me to hear. There is such excitement now that we have fish and salt again. Nobody here has ever been to the sea, which is a longlongway and hard travelling, the traders tell us. They have never found another place to trade with among the mountains, nor along the edge of the great water, what they call the seacoast, so there are just these two places where people live and all those mountains in between. Sister Briony told me there were more people and places in the old world but they were all destroyed because they worshipped things not meant to be worshipped, unimportant things that have no existence now and good riddance, sister Briony says. Now we only have those things that are important, like growing food and sending our prayers to Selene, which is why we were spared here in our valley. I asked her why the fish and salt traders were also spared in their village by the sea, and she explained they were also spared so they could bring us fish and salt. We could live without the fish, but not without the salt. Fish is something extra, just as our beef is something extra for the sea people, but they do not send their prayers to Selene, they offer them to a giant fish, sister Briony says, that comes swimming along past their village every year at the same time, a fish so big it would crush our village beneath it. The sea people are not bad, just ignorant, and we must not look down on them, because they come a long way each year to bring us what we need. But I am never to discuss with them anything to do with Selene and our important work here because they would not understand, and might even be angry that we do not worship their giant fish. So we are always friendly with the traders but we do not talk to them about anything but beef and fish and salt. The same wooden casks go back and forth between us every year except last year, and it will always be that way for as long as our prayers keep Selene in the sky. The traders are beholden to us for this without even knowing it, and that is as it should be. Our own men do the trading, salt fish for salt beef, and share jugs of cider from our apple orchard so everyone is happy with the trades. It has been this way from the time of our grandfathers' grandfathers' grandfathers. If it was not the right way to be doing things we would have been punished for it like the people in the old world were all punished for turning away from the simple things, the important things. We will never make the same mistake they made, and because we do what we do here at the church of our lady Selene, the traders are made safe also from calamity, although they do not know this as I said. We women are responsible for all the world, which is Selene above and earth below. We are between the things that would crush us to powder if they came together, so we keep them apart. All this is simple to explain among ourselves, and simple is best.
  I have heard that the men believe Sol is the one we should be sending our prayers to, since he stays farfaraway and does not threaten to crush us here below like Selene, but Sol has his own ways about him that are puzzling, by which I mean his path across the daysky has been known to shift sideways a little, especially after a moonquake has set the earth to trembling when Selene returns in the closest part of her journey. The traders say that Selene when close makes the sea lift itself out of its own water and overrun the land, so their village has been built back from the shore a ways, and when the sea rises up so too do the mountains shake and groan, which the traders say is the waters beneath the earth shifting their mighty weight, and each time Selene passes closest to the earth, which is the seventh night of Selene, the earth itself turns a little further away from Sol, so his path runs a different course and one day he may never rise again to warm the earth, which would be the fault of Selene for causing this, the traders say. Our own men would not say this terrible thing out loud even if they have it in their minds. We know they agree with the traders because sometimes their wives report to sister Luka what they say, but only when their husband has been rough with them, so this keeps the men from mistreating their wives. No man would want to come up against sister Luka, who has a way of looking at them that lets them know they are close to big trouble or even banishment if they keep it up. That is what happened to my father, who killed my mother for no reason other than he was a bad man, and so he was banished from our valley and never seen again. I did ask just once when the traders were here before if my father had gone to live among them, but they said no, so the wolves and the cougars must have taken him as they rightly should for his sin against a woman.
  The traders usually stay just a few days in the trading field, then go away again. We will see them again next year unless there is another landslide or even a volcano to make their path perilous. The last volcano around here poured out smoke and fire when I was very small, but I do remember it pouring all that blackness and flame into the sky way off among those other valleys where nobody lives, just wild things. Our prayers to Selene kept the wind from blowing all that terrible ash in our direction, and the Scribe before me, who was an old woman even then, wrote the sacred name over and over, more times every day than usual just to keep the wind blowing that way so all our fields and orchards stayed green and were not turned grey, which is how the volcanoes killed the old world and everyone in it. Sister Luka told all of us little sisters how everything longagofaraway was burned to cinders to remove it from the face of the earth where it did not belong. So now we have only the simple things that are important and the volcanoes have gone silent, even when Selene comes close to us on seventh night. She still makes the earth tremble, though, making landslides like the one that kept the traders away for a whole year until they found another way. They are very determined about trading with us and will not be kept at a distance. They do not know this, but our lady Selene is the one who makes them brave enough to keep finding a way through to us, because our work here is so important.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Women.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Secret Book of Sacred Things
  Today the sea traders came again. Last year they could not get through because a moonquake made the mountain pass they have always used collapse, blocking the trail. That was a bad year for all concerned. We got no salt fish and salt for preserving our beef, and the traders got no beef to take back to their home by the sea. We could not give salt to our herds and had to let them find natural salt licks in the forest, which we do not like to do because of the wolves. We lost two cows and three calves, and we missed eating fish, which is always a nice change from beef and goat. And that same moonquake that destroyed the trail also made the weather go strange again, with too much rain that washed away some of the corn crop, and the wheat yield was the worst anyone could remember. There was plenty of nightblaze at the same time, what they used to call aurora. I know that old word because I was called after it, but everyone calls me Rory, which used to be a boy's name sister Luka told me, but there are no boys in our valley called that. I am the only one. 
  The trading field is in the village, too far away for me to hear. There is such excitement now that we have fish and salt again. Nobody here has ever been to the sea, which is a longlongway and hard travelling, the traders tell us. They have never found another place to trade with among the mountains, nor along the edge of the great water, what they call the seacoast, so there are just these two places where people live and all those mountains in between. Sister Briony told me there were more people and places in the old world but they were all destroyed because they worshipped things not meant to be worshipped, unimportant things that have no existence now and good riddance, sister Briony says. Now we only have those things that are important, like growing food and sending our prayers to Selene, which is why we were spared here in our valley. I asked her why the fish and salt traders were also spared in their village by the sea, and she explained they were also spared so they could bring us fish and salt. We could live without the fish, but not without the salt. Fish is something extra, just as our beef is something extra for the sea people, but they do not send their prayers to Selene, they offer them to a giant fish, sister Briony says, that comes swimming along past their village every year at the same time, a fish so big it would crush our village beneath it. The sea people are not bad, just ignorant, and we must not look down on them, because they come a long way each year to bring us what we need. But I am never to discuss with them anything to do with Selene and our important work here because they would not understand, and might even be angry that we do not worship their giant fish. So we are always friendly with the traders but we do not talk to them about anything but beef and fish and salt. The same wooden casks go back and forth between us every year except last year, and it will always be that way for as long as our prayers keep Selene in the sky. The traders are beholden to us for this without even knowing it, and that is as it should be. 
  Women have little to do with them because the traders are all menfolk. Our own men do the trading, salt fish for salt beef, and share jugs of cider from our apple orchard so everyone is happy with the trades. It has been this way from the time of our grandfathers' grandfathers' grandfathers. If it was not the right way to be doing things we would have been punished for it like the people in the old world were all punished for turning away from the simple things, the important things. We will never make the same mistake they made, and because we do what we do here at the church of our lady Selene, the traders are made safe also from calamity, although they do not know this as I said. We women are responsible for all the world, which is Selene above and earth below. We are between the things that would crush us to powder if they came together, so we keep them apart. All this is simple to explain among ourselves, and simple is best. 
  I have heard that the men believe Sol is the one we should be sending our prayers to, since he stays farfaraway and does not threaten to crush us here below like Selene, but Sol has his own ways about him that are puzzling, by which I mean his path across the daysky has been known to shift sideways a little, especially after a moonquake has set the earth to trembling when Selene returns in the closest part of her journey. The traders say that Selene when close makes the sea lift itself out of its own water and overrun the land, so their village has been built back from the shore a ways, and when the sea rises up so too do the mountains shake and groan, which the traders say is the waters beneath the earth shifting their mighty weight, and each time Selene passes closest to the earth, which is the seventh night of Selene, the earth itself turns a little further away from Sol, so his path runs a different course and one day he may never rise again to warm the earth, which would be the fault of Selene for causing this, the traders say. Our own men would not say this terrible thing out loud even if they have it in their minds. We know they agree with the traders because sometimes their wives report to sister Luka what they say, but only when their husband has been rough with them, so this keeps the men from mistreating their wives. No man would want to come up against sister Luka, who has a way of looking at them that lets them know they are close to big trouble or even banishment if they keep it up. That is what happened to my father, who killed my mother for no reason other than he was a bad man, and so he was banished from our valley and never seen again. I did ask just once when the traders were here before if my father had gone to live among them, but they said no, so the wolves and the cougars must have taken him as they rightly should for his sin against a woman. 
  The traders usually stay just a few days in the trading field, then go away again. We will see them again next year unless there is another landslide or even a volcano to make their path perilous. The last volcano around here poured out smoke and fire when I was very small, but I do remember it pouring all that blackness and flame into the sky way off among those other valleys where nobody lives, just wild things. Our prayers to Selene kept the wind from blowing all that terrible ash in our direction, and the Scribe before me, who was an old woman even then, wrote the sacred name over and over, more times every day than usual just to keep the wind blowing that way so all our fields and orchards stayed green and were not turned grey, which is how the volcanoes killed the old world and everyone in it. Sister Luka told all of us little sisters how everything longagofaraway was burned to cinders to remove it from the face of the earth where it did not belong. So now we have only the simple things that are important and the volcanoes have gone silent, even when Selene comes close to us on seventh night. She still makes the earth tremble, though, making landslides like the one that kept the traders away for a whole year until they found another way. They are very determined about trading with us and will not be kept at a distance. They do not know this, but our lady Selene is the one who makes them brave enough to keep finding a way through to us, because our work here is so important.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I could not stand there any longer and let those two think they were going to fool me even for another heartbeat. I marched around the elm and stood before them. It must have been a shock to learn they had been overheard talking about their precious secrets. I glared at them, wanting to tell them how awful they were, but no words could leave my mouth. Sister Luka and sister Briony stared at me, too stunned to speak also, and the silence between us was so crammed with unspoken words it made my ears ring and my fingers clutch at nothing. Finally sister Luka said, 'Rory... Aurora...' but I did not want to listen to any more lies and turned away. I think I made a strange whinnying noise as I marched away with arms held stiffly at my sides and my feet going tramp tramp tramp across the yard and my mind swirling with betrayal and fear and anger so fierce it burned a hole in everything I looked at. I did not know where else to go but into the nearest refuge – the room of names, but once in there I felt trapped. Of all places to hide, I had chosen the very room where for all this time I had worked so hard for the sisters of Selene, and now I know that they and she have betrayed me. I am the Scribe, but what does that mean any more? I am the Seer, but does that mean anything if being the Scribe does not? I wanted to scream. My head was so filled with grinding and roaring I could not think any more, not even about the awful things I had learned. I could not breathe, just stood there panting and making that whinnying sound like a horse, then there was a knocking on my door. Of course I did not answer, but sister Briony came inside anyway, saying, 'Little girls that spy on their elders can get their ears burned.'
  It was such a stupid thing to say, as if I was the one who had been caught doing something wrong and not them. She was talking to me like I am the fool and she is the wise one, but sister Briony is the fool for being a big liar, and sister Luka too. I screamed, 'Get out! Get out!' Sister Luka came in then and sent sister Briony away so she could talk to me like mother and daughter, but I did not want to listen.
  When I said those words I felt like a traitor, but was too angry to care. I wondered if they were true words, or if sister Luka's words were the true ones. If I was right then Selene does not care about us any more than we care about the ants we step on, and if ants pray not to be stepped on we are not listening and step on them anyway because we do not care. The thought of being like an ant, as unimportant as that, made my head spin. It could not be true. Sister Luka's face was creased with sadness as she watched me trying to make up my mind. I am so fond of sister Luka with her funny eye and how hard she has been trying to hold the church together against these men, and her old love sister Belinda dying. It is too much for an old woman to be doing. And I have made her unhappy on top of all that by doubting our lady. And what she said might be true, that if not for my writing every day then Selene might already have come crashing down. My words might have been the only thing to stop that from happening. We might all be dead if not for that, so getting angry just because our moon has not gone further away so we can rest easy is just silly and childish. Now I can see what sister Luka means about trying our best to please Selene while not being able to know exactly what our lady has got planned for us. So it is like when sister Marion in the bakery makes a cake and it rises nicely and then falls for some reason and does not look as nice, but the cake is still all there and delicious to eat, so if it fell that is not really important, and if someone cries about the hollow in the centre of the cake then they are being childish and ungrateful, which I did not want to be or have anyone thinking this about me. And the important thing is, as the Seer I will be able to understand more deeply than the other sisters what our lady is thinking, because that is what the Seer is for. So even if being the Scribe is a fallen cake, being the Seer will explain about that and there will be a whole new cake for everyone that I can tell them about.
  It was foolish of her to deny that I have come at last to deliver a new message. Sister Luka and sister Ursula were worried about me being so young, but it does not make sense for them not to be admitting that I am here anyway.
  I was very firm, asking that. It was time to stop the secrecy and say what was true now. Sister Luka's face changed, became calmer. 'Rory,' she said, 'I want you to avoid all talk of the Seer until we're... sure what is happening. If you tell the little sisters that the Seer has come again they'll get too excited. This matter has to be discussed further among the big sisters, so we're sure we know what we're talking about. Sometimes the things that come to us from Selene are hard to understand. If the Seer is among us her message will be studied and announced in due course, and not before. There are ways of doing things and these must not be rushed. The return of the Seer is a special event. Of course, the message she brings may be difficult to understand, or even frightening, but we must simply do our best as our lady decrees, trusting all the while that she would never allow us to make the wrong decision. It all takes time.'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: '. It all takes time. Of course, the message she brings may be difficult to understand, or even frightening, but we must simply do our best as our lady decrees, trusting all the while that she would never allow us to make the wrong decision. The return of the Seer is a special event. There are ways of doing things and these must not be rushed. If the Seer is among us her message will be studied and announced in due course, and not before. Sometimes the things that come to us from Selene are hard to understand. This matter has to be discussed further among the big sisters, so we're sure we know what we're talking about. If you tell the little sisters that the Seer has come again they'll get too excited. sure what is happening... 'Rory,' she said, 'I want you to avoid all talk of the Seer until we're. Sister Luka's face changed, became calmer. It was time to stop the secrecy and say what was true now.
  I was very firm, asking that. Sister Luka and sister Ursula were worried about me being so young, but it does not make sense for them not to be admitting that I am here anyway.
  It was foolish of her to deny that I have come at last to deliver a new message. So even if being the Scribe is a fallen cake, being the Seer will explain about that and there will be a whole new cake for everyone that I can tell them about. And the important thing is, as the Seer I will be able to understand more deeply than the other sisters what our lady is thinking, because that is what the Seer is for. So it is like when sister Marion in the bakery makes a cake and it rises nicely and then falls for some reason and does not look as nice, but the cake is still all there and delicious to eat, so if it fell that is not really important, and if someone cries about the hollow in the centre of the cake then they are being childish and ungrateful, which I did not want to be or have anyone thinking this about me. Now I can see what sister Luka means about trying our best to please Selene while not being able to know exactly what our lady has got planned for us. We might all be dead if not for that, so getting angry just because our moon has not gone further away so we can rest easy is just silly and childish. My words might have been the only thing to stop that from happening. And what she said might be true, that if not for my writing every day then Selene might already have come crashing down. And I have made her unhappy on top of all that by doubting our lady. It is too much for an old woman to be doing. I am so fond of sister Luka with her funny eye and how hard she has been trying to hold the church together against these men, and her old love sister Belinda dying. Sister Luka's face was creased with sadness as she watched me trying to make up my mind. It could not be true. The thought of being like an ant, as unimportant as that, made my head spin. If I was right then Selene does not care about us any more than we care about the ants we step on, and if ants pray not to be stepped on we are not listening and step on them anyway because we do not care. I wondered if they were true words, or if sister Luka's words were the true ones.
  When I said those words I felt like a traitor, but was too angry to care. I screamed, 'Get out! Get out!' Sister Luka came in then and sent sister Briony away so she could talk to me like mother and daughter, but I did not want to listen. She was talking to me like I am the fool and she is the wise one, but sister Briony is the fool for being a big liar, and sister Luka too.'
  It was such a stupid thing to say, as if I was the one who had been caught doing something wrong and not them. Of course I did not answer, but sister Briony came inside anyway, saying, 'Little girls that spy on their elders can get their ears burned. I could not breathe, just stood there panting and making that whinnying sound like a horse, then there was a knocking on my door. My head was so filled with grinding and roaring I could not think any more, not even about the awful things I had learned. I am the Scribe, but what does that mean any more? I am the Seer, but does that mean anything if being the Scribe does not? I wanted to scream. Of all places to hide, I had chosen the very room where for all this time I had worked so hard for the sisters of Selene, and now I know that they and she have betrayed me. I did not know where else to go but into the nearest refuge – the room of names, but once in there I felt trapped. I think I made a strange whinnying noise as I marched away with arms held stiffly at my sides and my feet going tramp tramp tramp across the yard and my mind swirling with betrayal and fear and anger so fierce it burned a hole in everything I looked at.' but I did not want to listen to any more lies and turned away... Aurora... Finally sister Luka said, 'Rory. Sister Luka and sister Briony stared at me, too stunned to speak also, and the silence between us was so crammed with unspoken words it made my ears ring and my fingers clutch at nothing. I glared at them, wanting to tell them how awful they were, but no words could leave my mouth. It must have been a shock to learn they had been overheard talking about their precious secrets. I marched around the elm and stood before them.I could not stand there any longer and let those two think they were going to fool me even for another heartbeat
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs. End with the sentence ' We are leaving soon.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I saw him coming through the open gates from my perch in the tower. I do not know if he came from the forest or the village, only that he has come. He stood looking at the pile of ash that once was an elm tree. I knew I must be asleep and dreaming, but he came further into the yard and looked up. When I saw that he had seen me, I fell down right where I stood. I think I could not bear to believe I had seen something real, in case I had not. I waited, lying beside the instrument, hoping to hear his footsteps on the staircase leading up to my hideaway, and when they came, when it was made clear to me I was not to die alone, I allowed my eyes to close as if overcome suddenly by sleep.
  What caused my return to the world was the wonderful smell of cooking meat. It came curling into my nostrils, reminding me I am alive, and I sat up. He had taken me downstairs to the kitchen and propped me against the wall like a sack of flour. Sister Kath's stove was crackling with fire and Chad stood over it poking at something that gave out that best of all smells. All the pots and pans had been stolen, so the meat sat directly on the stovetop, hissing merrily. He was no different than before, still wearing animal hides and with his wild hair tied back with a leather band. He looked like some peculiar creature that has come inside to pretend it is human. This was my father, come to save me from my fate, and yet I could think of nothing to say, could only stare at his narrow shoulders made broad by matted fur and feel grateful that now I might live. The smell of meat made me drool like a dog and twisted my insides painfully. He turned and saw me watching. I was expecting a smile, maybe even some words, but all he did was turn back to the pan while scratching idly at his ribs, unapproachable as ever. My father is a man of mystery with a strange gift for survival, and it is this that will protect me from further harm. I have been delivered from the arms of our lady to those of Chad, whose arms are real, with strength and purpose.
  When he was ready, Chad brought the meat to me on the end of his knife and dropped it onto the table, since there are no more plates. I made myself allow it to cool a little before snatching it up and cramming it into my mouth. My lips were burned as I bit into that slab of sizzling delight. Chewing was easy, swallowing was hard. I ate it all, then was sick. Chad prepared more meat without a word. I asked what kind it was and he put his hands on top of his head to make llama ears and made a snooty llama face that made me laugh it was so clever. But then I felt awful because he had killed one of the sacred herd, and more awful still because I wanted the next batch to hurry up and be ready for eating. I wanted to apologize to our lady but then remembered she is not near, which made me even more sad. Chad poked at the pan, watched it sizzle. I stared at the table top and wondered if our lady had left an actual hole inside me, or if that was only the hunger.
  Brindle has returned! I found her in the remains of the kitchen garden, nosing through the baked soil in search of something green. She is very thin but does not seem to be sick in any way, and is very affectionate, nuzzling and huffing to say how lonely she has been. I gave her neck the longest hug and cried a little. I should be hugging my father and crying against his chest, but that has not been possible. I am the last High Sister, leader of a broken church, and my fellow sisters are a silent man and a llama. I think this is very funny, but it does not make me laugh. I explained this to Chad and he did not laugh either, but I did not expect him to.
  Having Brindle with us has changed my father. He has made a rough packsaddle for Brindle and shown me how our few possessions can be carried by her. Carried where? When I asked him, Chad pointed away from the sun, the direction taken by the villagers, the only place it makes sense to go, but I do not want to catch up with them, those killers and hypocrites. We will travel slowly, following the streams for as long as these continue to flow. One day they will stop because the sun will have melted every stretch of snow in the high mountains and there will be no more runoff to feed them. That is when the top of the world will start to become a desert. I have heard about these places where nothing can survive for lack of water and everything that ever grew there turns to dust. The top of the world will soon be dust and the bottom of the world will be covered in snow. Somewhere in between the two we will find a place to live. The sun will be high enough in the sky to grow things, but not so high it drives us mad. There will be clouds in the sky there, and rain will fall to sustain us on the cool earth. We may find other people who have done this, people not from our valley who I do not want to see again. Willa's people may sail their boats away down the coast in search of cooler waters to fish. But there must be more than just these because the world, half baked and half frozen, is a very big place. We are leaving soon.