Fairspell Meadow of little wings of white-flamed butterflies in my brain

Leave the forest, she told @Sobek and @Sakhmet, in a voice that had lost all color. Get out from under the trees. Go to open ground. She hoped that Anansi's death coupled with her authority would make them heed her words. Still, she kept an eye out for them as she stepped onto the prairie, a white blotch against an ocean of gold.

Maegi walked, hobbling as usual—except nothing was usual. She was numb all over, detached from her body, her two-toned gaze devoid of feeling. She'd done her weeping, emptied herself out. There was no joy with which to fill herself again. 

Sobek and Sakhmet were alive. That was a relief. . .but joy would be to have Anansi back, and she knew that wasn't possible.

Ñuha āeksio. . .ñuha Jaes, she murmured, except she got stuck on the salutation. Ñuha āeksio. . .ñuha Jaes. On and on, a zealous automaton, stopping just short of a request she knew even divine intervention could not fulfill.

And she walked and walked, as if walking could turn back the time.