Blackfeather Woods primordial state of chaos

She reminded him strongly of Maegi. Maybe if Maegi had lost the use of her voice the way he had, then they'd be identical. Except the longer he lingered in her presence, the less and less he trusted that assumption - she seemed, somehow, softer. That isn't to say she wasn't confident; but there had always been a harsh quality to Maegi that the boy appreciated because it was so like himself, while this older woman did not have such a quality.

As she welcomed him to follow, he didn't think about his response but silently came to heel beside her. She led, and he followed, feeling less like he was directing his limbs and more like he was drifting on the fringes of a dream. Whatever pull the altar had on the boy, it was fueled by his medicine and had not fully worn off.