Quotes from Miyuki Miyabe

There was love here, the voice said again. But whose love? Ico wondered. He had assumed Ozuma had been talking about the queen and her daughter--but maybe... From the very first time he had seen her, Ico had wanted to save Yorda. There had been no thought, no reason--when he saw her in the cage, he knew he had to set her free.

Yorda slid down the side of the throne platform and walked again toward Ico. She moved differently now. This was not the Yorda he had led through the castle by the hand, the Yorda who would wander aimlessly if he did not call out to her. This was the queen's double, her puppet.

Gradually, strength returned to Yorda's body and she gripped his hand. Ico gripped back. Yorda sat up on the floor, but her eyes were still distant. Suddenly, Ico felt cold. A chill emanated from Yorda's body as he held her in his arms, as though she were a pitcher that had just been filled with ice water. He had the sensation that something else was inside the girl, pushing aside the Yorda he knew.

Yorda turned away from the shadow-creature just as its claws were about to close on her shoulders. Her eyes met Ico's, then fell to his outstretched hand. Finally, fear spurred her to action. She ran and jumped.

Ico ran back to the windmill, growing increasily nervous with each moment Yorda was out of his sight. He didn't want to think what would happen if the shadow-creatures attacked while they were apart.

She put a hand on his arm and gently pushed. What? Ico asked, his voice hoarse. You want me to run away by myself, too? Yorda nodded.

Ico thrust out his left hand, shouting to the girl. She had already sunk to her knees. For the space of a breath, barely long enough to blink, she hesitated. Her eyes focused on Ico, questioning, trying to peer into the bottom of his soul. Where her gaze fell on him, he felt cool, as though clear water washed over him. He gasped with the sensation. She thrust out her arm and grabbed his hand.

He thrust his hands into the pool, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her cheek. He grasped at her, clawing with his fingers and pulling like his life depended on it. Finally, he managed to grab her shawl. The girl flailed out with her arm and it touched his hand. "No! I'm not letting you go!" Now the girl's face was above the swirling darkness. She gasped for breath, half drowned. The fear on her face sent a fresh jolt of energy through Ico. 'I've got to save her!

Ico made to charge her again. The queen raised a clawlike nail, but Yorda stepped between them. Without a word, Yorda stretched out her arms in front of Ico, holding him back. Ico looked into her eyes and she shook her head, pleading with him.

I'll take you with me.

Filled with hope, Ico looked into Yorda's eyes. He felt like was looking into an hourglass, trying to pick through the grains of sand for some truth buried there long ago. He hadn't found anything yet, but the warmth of Yorda's hands in his told him that he was getting close.

But the boy protected Yorda from the shadows-that-walk-alone. He took her hand, defended her, swung his thin arm, and fought with his tiny frame, driving them back. If the shades dragged her into their realm, she would once again become a prisoner, and the boy would turn to stone, a sad adornment in the castle. Yorda knew this. But the boy did not--even as he did not know that Yorda was the property of the queen of the castle--and he protected her.

But the boy was there, and he was looking at her. That was when Yorda understood what was drawing out her memories of the castle into the boy. It was him. He wanted to know its dark past. He wanted to know everything. No one could stop this. Not even the queen.

So far away, the one I love. What sky are you under tonight? What wind will my song ride... To carry my voice to you? Tell me, winds, Where he may be. Tell me, winds, What star he looks upon. My ears are like two white seashells, Listening for dawn to come.

The memory was so vivid that, like a fresh scab, he was sure he would start to bleed if he picked at it.

Failure and disillusionment are realities, but ideologies are made of dreams. And dreams, it would seem, do not fade easily.

And there would be more partings, more losses, more wounds, over and over, again and again. He could change his destiny a hundred times, and each time another loss or separation would be waiting for him on the other side. As long as there is happiness, there will be sadness. As long as there is fortune, there will be misfortune.

What is good, and what is evil? Where do you draw the line between the two?" Now Yuriko was getting a little upset. I'm just in fifth grade, you know. They haven't taught us difficult things like that yet. "There

He couldn't believe that there were so many books in the world. Who could possibly read them all?

At last, she made her decision and grabbed Ico's hand tightly.

But, my son. I knew love here as well.

The girl turned to him and to his surprise, she smiled faintly. 'She's beautiful'.

If men were reduced to sacrificing other men to appease the darkness, the Dark god's reign had already begun.

Yorda...that's your name?