Dragoncrest Cliffs the sugary smell of springtime

"she is there," and erzulie motioned to a particularly bright spot of light, east of their position. the marvel of the heavens had never been wasted upon the harlot, not even now in company she was only just coming to know. "anot'er one, there," and erzulie indicated the north star. "anansi sits and weaves. 'anansi, what are you making?' he says, 'i will tell you when the sun dies.' but as you know," the harlot went on, tipping her mismatched gaze toward eadwulf, "de sun never dies. and so nor does sly anansi tell, guarding his secret in de same place in de sky."
it was good to recall the old stories and the old songs, the old tongue and the old memories. his skull-features, gleaming. "did you grow up wid such tales?"