the meat.
“What a waste,” Mriga said. “… That’s just what Harran said, though. The gods
became convinced that time could bind them-and so it did. They became convinced
that other gods could drive them out-and so it happened. If we could convince
men that the pantheons were willing to get along together, and that they should
stop killing each other in gods’ names … then maybe the fighting would stop up
here. Mirrors….”
Mriga was becoming better at omniscience-another attribute Siveni had lost to
her-and so heard Siveni thinking that idiocy was one of those conditions that
transcended even immortality. Mriga sighed. It was harder than she’d thought,
this becoming one. Siveni didn’t really want to share her attributes … and
Mriga didn’t really want to give them up. Hopeless…. Then she caught herself
staring at the rib bone in her hand, and by way of it became aware of an
emptiness in the universe. “I miss my dog,” Mriga said.
Siveni shrugged coolly. Most of her affections and alliances lay with the winged
tribes, birds of prey or oracular ravens. But as the silence stretched out, she
looked over at Mriga, and her face softened a bit.
“Goddess!-“
Mriga looked up at Siveni in surprise. The voice caught at both their hearts as
if hooks had set deep there. Startled, the two of them looked around them and
saw no one; then looked out of timelessness into time….
… and saw Harran go down under the hooves of Stepsons’ horses, with half his
head missing.
“My master,” Mriga said, stricken. “My priest, my love-“