The eye closed, and we backed away, bowing reverently (as best we could without tripping over the hems of our borrowed robes). The monks around us lowered the curtain and dimmed the lights in a well-practiced voiceless synchrony; the rustle of cloth against cloth, the crunch of rough rope, and the faint squeaks of pulleys and valves were somehow more perfect and eerie than utter silence would have been.
I could not have chosen to break that sussurous symphony — indeed I might have gone a lifetime without ever having spoken again; but in due course my companion turned to me, and asked of me in her alien tongue: "Penny for your thoughts?"
So startled was I that I met her eyes — those coal-dark eyes that had stared down princes and warriors! that had just Seen, as I had Seen, yet spoke not fear nor doubt! — but quickly cast my gaze aside and down. "Pray, mercy," I whispered, in reflexive apology; but I continued more meaningfully: "— mercy on us all."
She only smiled, the wrinkles beside her eyes deepening. "We'll have to arrange for that on our own," she replied cryptically, as we passed through the final titans'-doors.
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