The God of Light brought a small black mirror out of his radiance and set it on the table. A silver rim enclosed its surface. He fed divine power into it, lighting the marks engraved along the edge.
Blackmoon's recording disappeared.
Then a woman's voice came through.
"So. Have you finished arguing?"
All six gods bowed.
The God of War's spears lowered with him. Blue clouds bent toward the table, silver chains descended, and the Lady of Graves's lamps sank almost to the floor. Even the Keeper of Ashes bowed deeply.
"We greet you, my lady," the God of Light said.
The others followed. She gave no acknowledgement.
"A World-Sovereign Physique," she said. "You descended into a vessel like that and couldn't kill a newly awakened Daemon."
The God of War did not straighten or make any extra movement to express the emotions in his heart.
"Then a mortal girl had to die so you could escape. Disgusting."
