Forgotten were her fears,
for there remained only, from time to time, that distressing silence of
Nelatha, which Si'Wren had been so vainly at odds to dispel with her
cheerfulness.
She had never been so happy, working in the spice tent. Only now, she
was aware of the fact that she did pray to unseen gods. Gods whose
graven idols were not in her immediate, visible presence, just as
Nelatha had scornfully pointed out earlier when still on speaking terms
with her. This led Si'Wren to consider more seriously the strange
Invisible God of whom Nelatha had initially spoken.
Nelatha still adamantly refused to speak of the Invisible God, in spite
of the fact that Sorpiala clearly meant no harm, and stubbornly refused
now to so much as say one word about this or practically anything else.
But Si'Wren could not stop herself from wondering about this strange
Invisible God. For the whole idea was still very unclear to her. She
was still so young, and the world so vast.
She supposed that the elders of every village must know all about this
Invisible God, and imagined that they must surely understand why His
image could not be somehow made visible by the contrivance of wooden or
golden idols made with hands. Yet, she was fearful of going to any of
them and asking.
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