“I don’t like to be here during the day” Baghdor said, as she stepped out of the waves onto the island. With Waridi’s head still on her lap, though he slept, Feni only spared her sister a quick glance and a smile. “You should”, she said as she stroked Waridi’s face, “You built it”. Baghdor sat next to her, spreading out her dark limbs where once a long, reptilian form had been and peered at the body stretched out besides her sister. “Do you think he can do it?”
“Yes”, the reply was sure and immediate.
Baghdor turned to look at the waves, “Then you have more faith in this plan than I do”.
“What troubles you?”, Feni asked, her gaze now on her sister. Baghdor smoothed out the sand beside her and then dusted her hands, frowning at the mess, “His woman is weak. I don’t think she can be trusted”. Feni cackled, surprising her sister, “You think all men are weak”.
“This one is particularly weak”, Baghdor scowled, “and foolish. She didn’t know the bargain she struck when she asked for this one’s return”.
“So she was tricked”.
“Weak and foolish”.
“Your priest lies. Incessantly. Even when he has no need to”.
“My…” Baghdor sighed, “They all lie, and they need to, or they will bring me excuses rather than offerings”.
“So which would you prefer – foolish worshippers, lying priests and boats full of gifts-
“I like gifts”
“-or, shrewd nonbelievers, truthful priests and empty boats”
“The dead belong to me. There is no wisdom in denying me”
“So trust my plan, and you will get all the dead you desire”.