"I need to get back to Gus."
Miur, who'd been the middle a small crowd seeking comforting words from the priest, had to double-check to make sure it was I who had spoken and not one of the scared people about him. A child had a hand clutched in his tunic. A woman had one of his hands, and another man, possibly her husband, had his arms out held in a plaintitive, begging gesture.
All of the worried words of the people fell quiet as they looked at me with Miur.
From the doorway of the great hall, Poseidon waited, trying to make himself small against the wood and dirt walls. Only the little girl who I had asked to let me know if anyone was teasing him approached him, and she did so with a fish and gentle hand.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Miur asked.
"I need to get back to Gus."
"And I would know that how - "
My anxiety made me irritable. "You're a prophet. You've been able to find me no matter where I was."