"Why did you not pray directly to the
Invisible God?..."
Si'Wren's voice trailed away.
Then understanding struck like a thunderbolt, as Si'Wren suddenly
perceived the futility of all graven images in the presence of a real
God, even an invisible one.
"Ooh!" she said. "Now I see!"
"Aye! Ohh!" Nelatha mocked Si'Wren imitatively, as her eyes and mouth
becoming like wide round circles, to match Si'Wren's expression, which
in turn exactly resembled the little round-eyed mud face.
"Si'Wren, if the Invisible God is all-seeing, why should you speak to
the dirt which was formerly between your toes, when you can pray
directly to He who made the whole world instead? Why bow to idols,
which neither see nor hear? The real wonder is why you who are made of
dust, are as dense as a rock. Who needs a stone idol, with you around?
Stupid, ignorant, half-witted slave that you are sometimes, I can only
marvel at how fittingly you were born to such low estate, for your
thick-headedness. But that can be cured, and without the use of the
rod, or such herbs as these. I may speak of mysteries, Si'Wren, but at
least I do not speak falsely. I only faithfully repeat that which the
old woman L'acoci taught me in secret, and it must not be repeated, on
your life!"
"I swear, Nelatha," Si'Wren eagerly reassured her, "I shall not breathe
a word to anyone!"
"Enough for now, then," Nelatha said, in satisfaction.
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