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Brenda's face creased itself into something akin to a reflective frown, and she slumped deeper into the chair. "I'm digging back," she admitted. "He was a lesser Mongol deity that was supposedly chased into the great swamps of Pullan. The way I remember it, he and his band of true believers were run off because the authorities believed they were flesh eaters." |
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A piece of the puzzle tumbled into place. |
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"I just don't remember," she said with an air of apology. "It wasn't the focus of what we were studying at the time, more of a footnote curiosity in an Ancient Cultures class." |
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My mind was already off to the races, B.C.'s offhand comment and admittedly vague recollections were just enough to spur the old theory developer into some unplowed territory. Already my mind was conjuring up images of Sate's zealots laboriously working their way, island by island, up the Aleutian chain toward the frozen wastelands of the north. "What else can you remember about the old boy?" I urged. |
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B.C. ran the tip of her index finger around the top of her glass and closed her eyes. "Nothing of any importance," she said lazily. |
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"What did that old girl call it? Ancient of Ancients ?" |
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