Another Presence, solemn and gray, waited there, and took it up. And took it in. And sighed in something like relief, or completion, or balance. I think it was the blood of a god. Spilled, soiled, drawn up again, cleaned, and returned at last… I don’t understand. Was Ista mistaken? Did I miscount my deaths? The goddess laughed. Think it through…
Was i mistaken: did I miscount my deaths?
