Spirit of Nature 1 (EDITED!) - "Thus, the cloud of death killed itself." - Habib to Saul, on Skitter's descending.

Taylor was falling. At least she was pretty sure she was falling - it was like her whole body was flung into some direction and just wouldn't stop…

The last things she remembered were Echidna dying, and then the Travelers being sent home by Labyrinth and Scrub doing their weird portal thing. She was in an endless void - it reminded her of being covered by Grue's power, this time with no ground beneath her feet. There were no bugs in her range, no control. She couldn't hear the wind in her ears, or feel her skin touching her costume. It was… sickening. She felt tired and dizzy - the wounds she had received, the cuts and bruises, the abuse she suffered from fighting Echidna were burning horribly. She closed her eyes.

She tried to grasp something - anything! But it was impossible. Her friends were gone, and she was dying. Was this what dying felt like? What would her dad say when he heard about it - if he ever heard about it, if Lisa or the Wards ever even told him? What would he do? If he triggered...

And even though she couldn't grasp her way home, she found something familiar. Crawling, skittering. Bugs! Spiders! She could feel them everywhere now… so… was she alive? She reached out, trying to search through the empty space around her with them, and found nothing. Despite the familiar feeling of her power working, there was no control.

She hit the ground on her side, though that couldn't be right. It felt as though she had tripped and hit the ground, not fallen from a great height. The pain of her previous wounds forced her up, alert. Echidna must still be nearby…

Finally opening her eyes, she saw a dark night sky, the only light in it the bright stars. They were so bright, there were so many. She never saw this many stars in Brockton Bay.

Her chest hurt, she was barely able to stay on her feet. Where was she? What happened?

Trying to move, but finding herself too weak and tired for it, she collected some insects from nearby - nocturnal insects, moths or mosquitoes or fruit flies - and sent them to look around. They found nobody.

"Lisa?" she rasped even though she knew they weren't there to hear her, her throat dry and burning. "Brian? Rachel?" And then, almost as a last-ditch effort, wondering if this were some strange trick by a remaining clone... "Alec? Aisha?"

Taylor's concern increased and grew into outright fear. They survived, right? Echidna was gone, and they should have been free of Coil's machinations...

"Where are you?"

Tired, hungry, thirsty, and hurt while stranded in the middle of nowhere, Taylor sat down and tried to regain her bearings. It was… less than comfortable, but she was too tired to care. Her wounds needed treatment, but besides the silk of some spiders she could find nearby, she didn't have anything with her that could help. She closed her eyes. She would find them. She had to.

Taylor awoke to the sun shining brightly onto her face; mask-lenses or no, it was still blindingly bright, and she lay there for a moment, stunned. How long have I been sleeping? She was still tired, though it had been the longest period of sleep she had had in what felt like forever. Lifting herself off the ground, she got cautiously to her feet and looked around, augmenting her senses through the small insects that clung to the wheat-stalks. It was an impressive, if wholly foreign, sight - the kind she could only remember seeing in old documentaries, or textbooks, of much older times: a sea of wheat, ripe and golden, stretching out into the horizons and swaying in a gentle breeze.

A beautiful sight, and - a doomed one. The locusts announced themselves to her senses - her power, first, and then her hearing, and then her sight. They were a dark massed cloud, buzzing much more loudly than she would ever have expected... and hungry. She could feel some of them eating, in fields beyond her sight.

The decision was instant. The locusts descended, to eat the wheat field - then they received their new instructions, and spiralled up into a whirling mass over it, turning their incredible appetite on themselves. The cloud roiled and buckled, and presently began raining pieces of locust… . A disturbance in the wheat field. She knew he was there without turning to look at him, and similarly heard his gasp without trying. He was running through the wheat field towards - no, not towards her. Towards the locust cloud. His course changed, though, and now he was approaching her, slowing down as he neared her.

He was old, with white hair and skin that looked like tanned leather - and while he looked a lot older than her father, he was hung with lean ropes of muscle and apparently fit enough to run a kilometer or two without tiring.

"A spirit," the man said, though it was unclear if he was addressing Taylor or the wheat field. "A spirit has descended - oh, what sins have we committed to bring the wrath of the heavens upon us?"

His tone reminded her of the way the ABB spoke to Lung.

Taylor was confused. He was speaking English, wasn't he? She couldn't place the accent; it wasn't English, Australian, Canadian, American, or… well, anywhere she could think of that spoke English. Maybe he was a non-native speaker? Or maybe she ended up in some cut-off hippy commune somewhere.

The locusts didn't stop, continuing their endless cannibalism, but standing like this was getting harder to sustain.

Maybe she could get some medicine or bandages, anything to make sure she wouldn't die of an infection or bleeding if the wounds opened again. As she shifted, it felt as though she was stretching stitches. What stitches? It must have happened while she slept, but moving with them wouldn't hold long.

The old man finally seemed to realise she was listening to him, even if she was looking at the locust swarm in the distance. He started off with a bow, low enough that his head dipped below the wheat for a moment. "O great spirit of the winds and the world, who soars on the wind and before whom we are as mayflies," he intoned, clearly following a certain well-memorised formula, "This poor and lowly one is Habib of Sidon. Though I am poor and have nothing, and am small and powerless, may it be pleasing in your sight to spare this crop of wheat, lest I starve; and my family and village with me. Know that I have sworn my life to you, and the lives of all my children, and their children's children for a thousand-"

"Don't worry." Taylor cut in quickly, already uncomfortable and trying to forestall the flow of words. "The locusts won't destroy the wheat. I've told them to eat each other." Not all of them, though. There were over nine hundred remaining, nearly a thousand, less a cloud than a small swarm. It wasn't like she wanted to kill off all the locusts, but a field like this didn't create itself. They had had to work hard for this, and she couldn't simply let the locusts destroy it. The remaining bugs would do for now, until she could replace her spiders and bees, and so she sent the command. Habib's eyes widened as the locusts flew into and disappeared under her costume, packed away into the compartments.

The man's face flashed relief, his body shaking just moments before it dipped entirely below the wheat. He was still shaking when his head was pressed in the dirt.

"Thank you, great spirit, merciful and mighty," He said, his tone less formulaic now and much more emotional - in fact, he reminded her of her people in the Bay after she'd defeated Mannequin.. "If I am worth anything in your sight, please accompany me to the village of Sidon. We are but a poor village, small and without wealth, but we shall feast and honour you for the salvation you have brought us today -" And there was that tone of invocation again, though no less sincere for being scripted.

At the word 'feast' Taylor's stomach growled. And she still felt a bit thirsty...

"That would be kind of you," Taylor told him by way of accepting, though it felt strangely mismatched, given the way he was speaking. "But why are you calling me 'spirit'?"

"What else could you be?" Habib asked, still on the ground. "There is no man like you, who rises out of the wheat fields in time of need, who turns the tide of the locust-hunger upon itself; who wields powers beyond human understanding, and who saves men to whom he owes no debt. Truly you are a spirit, descended to us from on high, benevolent and kind."

They must all be like Myrddin, who called his powers 'magic'. "I am Skitter," she told him, deciding against using her real name or her bugs to magnify her voice for the moment. "Please don't call me a spirit."

"I humbly receive your command and obey, o goddess Skitter," Habib said at once, before standing up and surreptitiously wiping mud off his forehead. He cast a glance around them, as if to make sure that the fields were still alright, and began to lead the way out of the wheat field and towards a small collection of huts in the distance.

Taylor sighed, and followed him, picking up a steady stream of insects in her wake as she went. The wounds still stung. Her side felt a little wet as she walked. She sent one of the locusts to investigate, and when it found blood seeping through the silk, had the insect press itself against the silk.

There was a large lake on the other side of the village; as they approached. Taylor could see a few small boats on it, fishing-rods and nets dangling over their sides. From what she was seeing and picking up from her bugs, however… Habib was far from being the only man in the wheat fields; the fields were absolutely full of men and women, stripped almost nude from the hot work, wielding sickles and gathering the ripened wheat into small bags slung from their waists. Almost all of them were turning to stare at them as she passed.

"It is the season of harvest, goddess Skitter," said Habib apologetically, after the sixth or seventh such person had stopped their work entirely while they passed by. Greetings and welcoming gestures had died on every lip or hand, and instead it became like walking through one of those theme parks where the statues turned to follow you as you walked through. "Pray do not visit your wrath upon them for their inquisitiveness! The garb and the manner of the goddesses are strange to us.."

"I understand," said Skitter hastily. Her mind was on other things; she could feel more insects in this one field than she had felt in any given city block of Brockton Bay, and this was by far the largest amount she ever had gotten together. Some of the individual species seemed absolutely new - maybe she ended up in some amish colony? Or maybe these species were experiments of some tinker? She shuddered. Hopefully it won't be like with Bonesaw.

"Where are we - I mean, which country are we in?" Taylor asked Habib. The man was still leading her through the wheat field.

"This is the Elamian kingdom, as it is known to we poor mortals, goddess Skitter," he answered. "But Sidon sits true on the edge between kingdoms, like a bone between dogs; Abdal has staked its domain up to that mountain-ridge, south of the lake, and Noura is not far away.."

Elamia? Kingdom? Even if she hadn't been paying attention in Geography class, she was sure she could recognise the names of most countries. This one, though, was a total blank. Was she in Africa? But… the people here didn't have the right skin tones at all… maybe further north on the continent? She hadn't heard anyone speaking anything in the direction of Arabic.

They entered the village, and instantly people began running to the village entrance; she already knew the exact position of each and every one of them, and had bugs on them to tell her what they were doing - and had even more bugs hidden, ready to act if the people attacked - "O citizens of Sidon!" Habib bellowed, and Taylor's ears rang from the sudden outburst of sound from the man. Unlike his previous respectfully muted tones, he was now shouting loud enough to wake Sleeper. "Hark unto my words, and hear the works of goddess Skitter, who has favoured us with Her blessed presence! For today the locusts came, and would have denuded our fields, leaving us to starve; and without the wheat we should have died this coming winter. But goddess Skitter saw our need, and in Her infinite mercy She descended; out of the wheat she rose, and with a wave of her hand the locusts consumed themselves! Praise be unto goddess Skitter, Patroness of Sidon!"

The attitudes of the people at the village entrance changed so abruptly that Taylor would have suspected Master influence. Over the course of Habib's speech, they went from suspiciousness, to fear, to outright reverence. They split to open a way when he led her through, and they didn't even comment on the river of small insects that followed her in, stretching from her heels to the wheat field.

A man, thick-set and heavily moustached, and a young boy, no older than six or seven, approached them. Habib embraced the young boy, and Taylor saw the family resemblance at once..

The man got the same look on his face that Habib had had, out in the fields. "O great goddess Skitter of the winds and the world, whose… uh, whose covering is the sky and whose footstool the earth, we... welcome you to our hearts and our home.," the man bowed, putting a hand on the boy's head and pushing it lower. "O great goddess Skitter," repeated the boy after the man, "whose covering is the sky and whose -"

Taylor interrupted them. Being a goddess had its perks. "Just call me Skitter, please."

"O goddess, forgive him, for he knows nothing!" exclaimed the man, one arm going protectively around his son. "Spare his young life, and take mine instead!"

Taylor paused, trying to formulate a reply, and finally said: "It's okay."

Not. It wasn't okay. Being confused for a goddess could help her to get through this, but this was getting ridiculous. The people here feared her already. It reminded her of the people after the news that the Slaughterhouse 9 were coming.

"The goddess does not care for the invocations," said Habib in the tone of a man who finds out all the experts are wrong. "We must have our prayer-books rewritten in a fashion more pleasing to her." Turning to Skitter, Habib bowed deeply. "If it please you, these are the lowly men of my family." Despite his words, his tone was fond and proud. "Hannibal, my eldest son, and Hamilcar, the eldest of his sons, my first grandson." He turned to Hannibal, then, drawing himself up straight. "Well? What are you waiting for? We must prepare the feast! Have the masons sent for - I shall speak with them, and we must begin the building! And have the women come and tend to the needs of the goddess!"

"Building what?" Taylor asked of Habib; Hannibal had already gone off somewhere to begin feast preparations. Habib's eyebrows twitched, but emphatically did not rise up in surprise, and he nodded gravely. "Goddess Skitter -" he said, but he broke off to try to grab at Hamilcar, now unattended by Hannibal and free to toddle right up to put one chubby hand out and tugged lightly on her costume. Looking down, she found him staring at her with wide eyes.

"Goddess Skitter," the boy said in his high-pitched, prepubescent voice, "Can you give me my mother back?"

Whatever Habib had been about to say died on his lips at once, and his eyes went wide, staring in fear at his grandson. Had Taylor been paying attention to him, her insects would have told her that the old man was practically vibrating in fear for the boy.

Answers and emotions bubbled up inside Taylor, rising up out of a repressed sea and breaking on the surface. For the first time since she had arrived in Sidon of Elamia, Taylor was truly grateful for the face-concealing mask; they could not see her face twitching under it. Instead, Taylor only sighed and reached out with one hand to pat the boy on the head. He flinched from the initial contact, but stayed docilely there while she ran her hand through his hair, gently.

She didn't kneel down to tell him. "I cannot," she said, brusque because she couldn't trust her voice to be as gentle as her fingers. "Nobody can."

She'd asked that question too, after her mother died; it just didn't seem right, and it still didn't. All the powers in the world; technology thousands of years ahead of anything that Earth Bet's scientists had even dreamed of, let alone built; incredible feats of skill and technique being demonstrated each new day- and yet nobody could revive a woman who didn't deserve to die that young. She had had to simply accept it, in the end. Death came to everybody, deserving or not, and there was no way to bring them back from it. But then, if people could be revived, the Endbringers wouldn't be as feared as they were...

"Please forgive him, goddess Skitter!" exclaimed Habib, darting forward to pry Hamilcar's fingers off of Taylor's costume and pull the young boy back. "He is young, badly taught, and knows nothing - it is my fault if he has offended you, be the punishment on my head and mine alone…" In his grip, Hamilcar was staring wide-eyed at Skitter, tears beginning to gather in the corners of his large eyes.

"Don't worry," Taylor said, thinking that it was going to be her new catch-phrase soon enough - the Interrupting Goddess of Don't Worry - and ignoring his title for her, because he didn't seem as if he would ever stop using it. "I lost my mother too. I understand what it's like."

She looked away, into the unfamiliar void above her, the stars that were usually hidden by the lights of her city. Brockton Bay...

And that reminded her of Danny. She wondered how he was now, and if she could go back and what that would be like. She wondered if that made her a technical orphan -

She walked over to Hamilcar, kneeling down this time and brushing aside the tears spilling down his cheeks with the back of one finger.

"I'm sorry," he said, hugging her awkwardly; the awkwardness was compounded by the shape of her armour.

"Don't be." She got up, looking around. She needed to diffuse the emotionality of the moment. "You said I would be tended to?" she asked Habib, and immediately a bevy of women arose and whisked her away to a room in Habib's house.

The villagers stared in awe, memorising every detail of it for retelling later that night, or months later, or even years later to their grandchildren: "Did I ever tell you, beloved, about the day the benevolent and merciful goddess, Skitter, She Who Sees All and Forgives, came to Sidon?"

Habib's home was the largest in the village, which meant that it had a separate room for every nuclear family in it - one for Habib and his wife, one for his son and his late wife, and one room for Hamilcar. Apart from those, there were the living rooms, dining rooms, and what Skitter quickly realised were called facilities here rather than toilets. Being the local goddess, however, meant that she had immediately been placed in Hamilcar's room, and the boy was shunted off to his parents' room to sleep in, until more permanent accommodations had been prepared for Taylor.

Of course, had she known that what they meant by "more permanent accommodations" had been a temple befitting a goddess, she would have probably interrupted and tried to talk them out of it. Right now Taylor was enjoying the first meal she had in what felt like an eternity. Her wounds were at least bandaged now. The people were welcoming, and nice - if somewhat brittle, out of the fear of angering her in any way. But as long as she ignored that, it almost felt like a home she could get used to, an environment with friendly faces around, like it had been with the Undersiders. Scratch that, she thought, remembering Bitch.

She still wasn't sure where this place actually was; for all she knew, the entire thing was happening in her mind, under some esoteric Master or Stranger influence; even if not, a Master could have taken over all of these people, replaced their previous identities and personalities for whatever reason... Even if they had been friendly until now, she couldn't simply give her identity to them. What if someone just stumbled towards this place and found her? If she could get here, presumably so could anyone. With a pang, she wished she'd introduced herself as some other name - Weaver, perhaps, or Arachne, or The Queen Bee… well, it was too late for that.

Another perk of being taken as a goddess was that everything she asked for was provided to her at once, without questions. They had not remarked on her wounds, merely washing them and applying scented salves and bandages to it efficiently, after complimenting the paleness of her skin; she had also been allowed to eat on her own, in private, instead of at the communal table where the whole family gathered for meals. They had simply provided her with food and retreated away, leaving her alone in the room. She pulled her mask off, after closing the window-shutters and spreading her bugs out in patrols that would inform her of anyone approaching. They had provided her with some bread, small hard wheat cakes, a bowl of thick dark honey, dates, figs, some baked fish, and a slab of butter. No cutlery, however; they seemed to eat with their hands, and only gave her perplexed looks when she asked for a spoon or fork, though she did get a knife when she asked for one. Was it so strange? If knives existed here, so should spoons, right? The looks they gave her were once again a strange mixture of fear and awe, and it made her feel like the odd one out.

"This honey is so good…" she muttered, in between dipping dates into it and swallowing them whole. There was a small pile of date-seeds beside her. . "There isn't any honey like this back home…" She had only eaten part of the meat; the rest of it, she had cut up into small enough pieces for her bugs to feed on.

The bugs needed it; she was already weaving a bag to take some things with her, using one of these strange new spider species. While she still didn't know where in the world - or even which world where she was, the spiders here were roughly the same. There was one new one, which the locals called "nightback" because of the white specks surrounding the one large white dot on their otherwise black bodies, and seemed to be generally accepted into houses as a way to help keep other insect populations down.

Even as hungry as she was, she had no hope of finishing all the food they had offered her on her own; the insects, too, were sated long before the food was gone. She put her mask back on and opened the door, only to find a female servant already there and waiting to collect the used earthenware dishes and leftovers. While the woman did her work, Taylor called out for Habib. "Do you have a map?" she asked the man, when he appeared from his room, cutting short the burst of murmured conversation she had heard from it.

"It is truly a joy and a pleasure to me this day, to be of service to my goddess,," he said, bowing. "Was the meal to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, it was absolutely delicious, thank you," she said, stepping back from the door and seating herself back at the table.

"It is but the least we could do for the benevolent goddess, who has saved our village from starvation in the coming winter," he told her, and stepped away for a moment; there was the sound of rummaging, and he returned with a rolled-up scroll. He set it down on the table and unrolled it; it took up a good half of the table. Taylor stared at the unfamiliar shapes of the continent and the countries, and tried to look for any landmark that she might know - Endbringer attacks, other countries' coastlines, anything at all - and came up perfectly blank.

"It pains my honour, great goddess, but this is the most accurate map that can be had in Elamia, Abdal, or Noura without being also a royal scout or navigator," he said, sighing and indicating the many blank spaces on the map; the only detailed regions were the realms of the three kingdoms named, but even those ended abruptly at the sea or at the mountain ranges, with only some small notes labelled there. Taylor frowned. Even the writing here was in English, and used modern spelling at that. "The mountains on the northeast are impossible to go through, so we only hear legends of what lies beyond, and no one dared to cross the waters since the storms that never stopped for centuries." As he spoke, Habib indicated the regions with his finger.

She would have asked why they couldn't go over the mountains, but the map made her stare in disbelief. Elamia was a big country with multiple smaller ones around it - that much she could see. It was also a small part of a giant island, which didn't look like Africa at all, or indeed any other continent or country she could name.

This map was completely new to her - it was… she was…

Where was Lisa when you needed her brain? Taylor fought with herself to remain calm - panic wouldn't do any good.

"Each of these countries marked here is a kingdom?" She swept her finger across the map, tapping on the different outlined, named shapes on it.

"I fear not, o goddess," he said, pointing at another island due west. "This is the Pavilion; it's a theocracy. And over here is Massad; the people cast off the concept of kings and use elections to choose their leaders. There is also the empire across the sea, though we are not often dealing with them, our kingdom is a sovereign state under their banner."

For a farmer, Habib sounded very well-learned about the affairs of other countries. Taylor was no expert on the medieval ages, but… hadn't these things been primarily the concern of the nobility? She'd thought farmers wouldn't have known anything farther than the borders of their village.

"A theocracy?" she said, tapping the Pavilion thoughtfully. Perhaps another cape was there, though she couldn't think of any capes that she knew to have aspirations towards godhood. "Of which faith?"

"One of the sons of Eshmun," said Habib; he had dropped the honorifics and servile tone, and now sounded much more like a teacher or a guide of some sort. "He cut his ties from his father and brothers, declaring that he was a servant of the spirits, and raised it with the help of his followers," he explained, though he did not elaborate on which spirit the nameless son of Eshmun claimed to serve. The name of Eshmun, however, rang a bell; she had heard that name used by the villagers, more than once- mostly in a tone that they seemed to use when speaking about her. "It is said that the Pavilion was built with the purpose of honouring you and all your kin, and none may enter it but those who pass the exacting tests of the son of Eshmun - or those who are his true followers." Habib almost sounded wistful, at that, and then caught himself with a start. "Forgive me, o goddess!" he said, quickly retreating from the table and pressing his forehead to the floor. "I have forgotten my place and have spoken to you as to a mere daughter of the earth. May this not be counted against the lives of my family, but take only mine!"

"Habib," she said, forcing herself and her voice to be calm. "I was separated from my… kin, others with powers like myself. They might come looking for me; perhaps they have come together, but have landed elsewhere on the world already."

"I am honoured by the revelations of the goddess, and awed by her boundless mercies," he breathed, though he didn't raise his head from the floor. "What can your poor servant do in your service?"

"I must go to find them," she told him. "If they were here, maybe I could stay here with them. But right now, I need to look for them. It might be a long journey."

"The mysteries of the spirits are deep indeed," he sighed. "For such beings of power and wisdom, to abandon the heavenly realms and descend to walk the earth; ah, truly I have lived to hear wonders and see great things. It pains me to hear you speak of departure, yet it is futile to keep a goddess where they would not stay." There was only a momentary pause, and then he spoke once more: "If the house of Habib of Sidon has found any favour in your eyes, let Hannibal be your servant and proclaimer on your path, to ease your way and testify of your great deeds. He is young, and strong, and well-learned in the pleasant arts."

"No," she told him simply. "I won't take him with me. His son needs him here."

Habib raised his face, wearing a stricken expression. "Forgive me for persisting, o goddess: Hamilcar is a light burden, compared to what you must suffer on the road, and he would be the lighter for the knowledge that his father is faithful in your service…" He trailed off, as Taylor stood up to face him head-on, her arms on her hips and the hidden bugs beginning to buzz. "

"A child needs his parent," she said. "Believe me, I know."

"The goddess has spoken, and I must obey," Habib said with resignation. "Please, speak only the word and it shall be given unto you; the storehouses of Habib are open unto you in everything you shall require. How many days more shall we enjoy the light of your presence?"

The bugs quietened down, but Taylor didn't sit down, instead beginning to pace the room as she thought. "I think I will stay here for a few days more, and maybe visit the capital later," she explained. The capital would, she hoped, be a good place to start her search - even if she didn't find any of her companions there, she might be able to get information there that she couldn't get here (Habib's learned airs notwithstanding). It would also give her the chance to speak to the king or whoever ruled here, and ask them for help. "I'll need food, first, and to regain my strength."

Ha, she didn't need Tattletale to make her plans foolproof, see?

"If I might make so bold as to suggest it," Habib said "The village of Heth is but a few days' travel from here. They are a village of orchards, and it is also the harvest season for them; surely they will recognise and worship you, and ply you with many gifts for your journey."

"Thank you," she said, looking for Heth on the map. It looked a bit closer to the middle, where the capital stood anyway, so it wouldn't take her far out of her way at all. Next to Heth, less than a day's travel if she read the map right, was a small red dot marked 'Friede'. That sounded German, didn't it? She was sure. "What is this?"

"The City of Idols, Friede," he frowned disapprovingly. His pronunciation actually sounded rather good, so maybe she really was in Germany? Austria? Switzerland? Maybe they were just a bit secluded…Of course they weren't. Wishful thinking wouldn't take her far. "They do not worship the spirits, as we do, and instead worship strange gods of their own making. Truly it is a sad and benighted place, though they do not see it. In fact, their missionaries visit us once a month; but they were only able to influence the women and children who were weak in their faith, and we soon put them away from us. It is said, though, that Heth has lost not a few villagers to their heresies and lies." He turned his eyes upon Taylor, and the unspoken message was clear: the goddess ought to visit the City of Idols and… do something, preferably something massively violent.

So, either she made haste and moved to the capital as fast as possible, or she visited the village that could give her a lot of food, but which was next to a city full of… idolaters. Considering that there were probably more than 40,000 different denominations of just one faith on her earth, she shouldn't have been surprised if the same thing was happening here.

"Still," she said. "Heth seems a good place to start. Thank you, again. If I can do anything for you…"

"O goddess, benevolent saviour," he said, smiling beatifically. "Simply by coming to us you have blessed us with your protection and saved us by your grace. The locusts would have devoured our harvest and that of Heth and Friede, and we should all have starved with no-one to save or succour us. Our lives, all of them, for generations to come, are devoted to you and you only."

Taylor felt awkward. She wasn't used to that much adoration - especially considering she was a feared villain where she came from. Of course she had some friends and subordinates, but-

"How about I repair some clothes? I'm good at that," she said. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"Our goddess is kind beyond measure," breathed Habib worshipfully. "I shall call for the women, and they shall accompany you and see to all your needs."

Behind her mask, Taylor smiled and then laughed, her earlier turbulence at the alienness of the world having mostly passed. After a moment, Habib chuckled as well (though awkwardly), and then withdrew from her room. She sat down at the table again, basking in her good mood.

Staying here for a bit wouldn't be too bad.