Reading progress update: I've read 63 out of 325 pages.
Smintheus Apollo, hear me!
Lord whose arrows strike from afar, hear me!
Lord of mice, hear me!
Lord of mice? I'd forgotten - if I ever knew - that Apollo is the god of mice. And suddenly, I knew where all the prayer were leading. Apollo isn't the lord of mice because they're sweet, furry little creatures and he quite likes them ... No, he's the lord of mice because mice, like rats, carry the plague; and Apollo, the lord of light, the lord of music, the lord of healing, is also the god of plague.
As the priest's great prayer for vengence mounted to the skies, I found myself praying with him.
Lord of mice, hear me!
Lord of the silver bow, hear me!
Lord whose arrows strike from afar, hear me!
Until, finally, the forbidden words erupting from my mouth like blood or bile:
God of plague, hear me!
That's pretty powerful writing.
