“Because you belong to it,” the Prophet answered. “It is an abomination. You are an abomination. You call it Quiet, but it is no such thing. Its word has been heard across the stars, its challenge to the very gods.” I was silent, not knowing what to say to this pronouncement. Syriani knew of the Quiet. Of course it did. Had not Iubalu said it had spoken with the Watchers themselves? That it had visions, same as me? “You know of what I speak, kinsman,” it said.
