There was a patient smile on the girl's red mouth. She shook her head and the soft yellow hair tumbled around her bare shoulders.
"We have spoken of this before, Tyr. Always you say that you are not a god, and then you turn around and do what only a god can do."
Tyr sighed. "Maybe I am a god. Maybe I expect a god to be too much. But that is not exactly the point. It is this: the Trylla call me god, no matter what I call myself. Therefore I must act like a god, for their sake."
Fay nodded, brown eyes fastened on him.
Tyr said slowly, "A god would not let oppressors molest his people, would he, Fay?"
"That is just what I have said. You must go into Yawarta and slay and slay—"
"No. No, I do not think that is what a god would do."
Fay frowned slightly. She kicked at a lump of sand and watched it fly apart. She ran a finger into her thick yellow hair and twirled it.
"Of course you may be right," she said tartly. "I am not versed in the way of gods."