” She found herself trying to remember all the old tunes her mother had taught her, as they were bright as little stars. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. “Excuse me a moment. She was furiously angry. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. He was helpful, but gravely dubious.
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