Do I even exist?

If no one can see me or hear me, then why can I see and hear myself?

What do I do now?

Late in the afternoon with the waters of the bay settling into their twilight calm and the light fading in the east, she saw the triple-gated entrance to the temple of Ilu beside the road and wondered if she could overnight in the lean-to. The bored young apprentice sitting as gatekeeper would not care. He would not even see her.

He was playing ticks-and-tacks in the dirt with a stick and pebbles. His dog whined and cowered, and the youth looked up and down the road and, seeing nothing, scratched its head absently. The temple compound was set back from the road, separated by gardens where the envoys and apprentices grew vegetables. The last workers were shouldering their hoes and rakes and laughing together as they headed up the track toward the compound walls. One shuffling figure wandered through the rows, bending to finger the strong green shoots.

A woman broke away from the laborers. “Here, now, Mokass. Come along. It’s time for our gruel.”

The lone figure skipped away from her, gabbling in a singsong voice. With a most unholy oath, the woman chased after him. He bolted, giggling, for the gate, a white-haired old man with bent shoulders and bowed back but nimble legs. The dog lifted an ear and barked once. The young gatekeeper heaved up, muttering.

“Oh, the hells. Not again.” But he wasn’t really angry.

The old man skittered to a halt beneath the gate, staring at Marit. He leaped back a single hop, and raised both hands palms-out.

“Death, death!” he chanted. Tears flowed suddenly. “Go away, fearsome one!”

“Can you see me?” Marit demanded.

“I never did it! I never stole that coin. Anyway, you don’t want anyone here. Just walk on.”

The woman caught up with him and took hold of his right arm. “Here, now. Don’t go running off. It’s time for our gruel.” She nodded at the gatekeeper. “Good work, Lagi.”

“I did nothing. He just stopped of his own accord and started babbling.”

“He’s gods-touched,” said the woman with as much fondness as exasperation. “Poor old soul.”

“I beg you,” said Marit. “Mokass. Is that your name? I need your help.”

“You’ve got no call to be knowing my name! Go away! We don’t want you here.”

The dog took courage from the old man’s defiance and began to bark at Marit. In sympathy, more dogs within the compound started up a yammer.

“Aui! Mokass, just come along, now you’ve got them all going. My ears will swell up and drop off from the noise!” The woman dragged on him, and he wasn’t strong enough to do more than stumble along unwillingly behind.

“Have to send death off!” he cried. “Go away! Go away!”

“In the name of the Lady, I beg you, Mokass,” Marit called after him. “Go to the reeve hall and tell that the ghost of Marit sends warning: Beware Lord Radas of Iliyat. Let someone warn Copper Hall: Beware Lord Radas. He’s the one who had me and my eagle killed.”