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costume to hold any pockets whatsoever, but she seemed to have been able to repair her make-up, re-kohl her eyes and put up her hair. She undulated towards the group like a snake in a skid, determined to hit the strangers with the full force of her personality. She was also holding something in her other hand.
'She's that the Old Kingdom was enclosed upon itself, floating free of the rest of the universe, drifting away from the general consensus that is dignified by the namfound the tortoise!' said Xeno. 'Well done!' The reptile shot back into its shell. Ptraci glared. She didn't have much in the world except herself, and didn't like to be hailed as a mere holder of testudinoids. The tall man sighed. 'You know, Xeno,' he said, 'I can't help thinking you've got the wrong end of the stick with this whole tortoise-and-arrow business.' The little man glared at him. 'The trouble with you, Ibid,' he said, 'is that you think you're the biggest bloody authority on everything.' The Gods of the Old Kingdom were awakening. Belief is a force. It's a weak force, by comparison with gravity; when it comes to moving mountains, gravity wins every time. But it still exists, and now e of reality, the power of belief was making itself felt.
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