The spinning form was no longer cloudlike. It was like a mountain with wings—six wings in constant motion. In the whorl of wings, Voran saw what looked like a brand of fire. His stomach dropped. More pain, he knew. He looked at the Shuudan for a moment, and he saw her assessing him. He couldn’t give a name to her expression. There were too many different emotions there, though all of them were contained, not excessive, like the distillation of pure emotion. Like a statue, but a living and breathing one.
He couldn’t look at her anymore. She was shining, though whether it was from her own inner light or because she reflected the Palymi, he didn’t know. He didn’t dare guess. He had always prided himself at being comfortable with the presence of the divine. He had been a fool. The Powers, he
