Sometimes, he dwelled on why the God wished him to survive, for it was clear to Ramus that was the case. The risen thing had blessed him to escape the changed and still-changing landscape of the Great Divide. But his was not the place to question a God.

After another day's travel, Ramus suddenly realized that there was dusty grass beneath his feet. The sun was still blocked out, but he could see its smudge above him, tracking him through the clouds of steam and smoke, as if eager to shine upon him once more. He walked on, voyaging across Noreela, and when he found one of the standing stones he had used to navigate south, he sat down at last. When sleep claimed him, he had the first of Nomi's nightmares.

SHE IS IN a world she cannot see. She is awake in a nightmare, and though she has been screaming, no one listens; no one cares. The Fallen God carries her tight against its chest as it strides through a land without edges or definition, a place where even the sky and ground are blurred into one. It's here to make a whole new world, Nomi thinks, and she does not want to be a part of it. The blurring passes by as the God moves ever southward, leaving behind Noreela and whatever has become of the Great Divide, heading into lands beyond comprehension or understanding. Sometimes there is a vague, terrible sense of pursuit, and for a while Kang Kang moves faster. And she wonders whether the God can see what she cannot, or if it is only imagining what will be.

She cries herself to sleep and cries herself awake, because she carries a new life in her womb. She knows that her own future is shattered. But perhaps whatever she gives birth to will be remade as a part of this new, unknown place.

There is no comfort in that at all. So Nomi screams, cries herself to sleep, cries herself awake.

RAMUS COULD NOT travel that next day. His exertions caught up with him and he sheltered against the standing stone, putting it between him and what had become, and was still becoming, of the Great Divide. The ground still shook and cracked, the air stank of volcanic gases and dust, but Ramus sat there for the whole day and tried not to see Nomi's dreams again. He had not wanted them before, and he wanted them even less now and he felt more cursed than ever because he was convinced the God had taken his illness away.

Later that day, the first travelers came by. They were wanderers, come this far south to feed their natural curiosity. They eyed Ramus suspiciously for a while, and then the leader of the small group drew his sword and came forward. But when he saw Ramus's bloody eye, he put away his weapon and squatted by his side.