"Old Gods," Neju said, standing in the middle of the villagers, "... Old Gods, I do not know how to talk to you the way I should." His voice was small and embarrassed. "I hope you do not mind too much. I'm trying to get it right. Old Gods, legends tell how you controlled mighty demons when you came to our world. Now there have come to our world some demons who control god-men." He wrinkled his brow, trying to state the case as dearly as possible.
"These demons are very bad. They kill our people." He paused a moment. "We want you to help us kill these demons so the god-men will be free and we can live without fear."
Neju waited. The ground did not tremble. The moon did not darken. The Old Gods did not answer.
"Maybe we haven't any right to ask, for ourselves," Neju said. "But for the god-men, who are your brothers from the sky. Help us to free them, Old Gods. They want to be free, like all things want to be free."
Still the Old Gods did not answer.
Slowly, from mouth to mouth, a moan passed among the villagers.
"Answer us, Old Gods," Neju pleaded.
The moan grew louder and louder.
"Answer us, Old Gods," Neju repeated. "Please answer us."
And still no answer; only a vagrant breeze in the leaves; no sound, no voice, no sign that the Old Gods had heard.