It panged me to realize how much he had wanted family all these years.

Talk of Prometheus’ punishment scarcely lasted out the moon.

Among the gods there are a few who have the gift of prophecy, the ability to peer into the murk and glimpse what fates will come. Not everything may be foreseen. Most gods and mortals have lives that are tied to nothing; they tangle and wend now here, now there, according to no set plan. But then there are those who wear their destinies like

I had a little pride, as I have said, and that was good. More would have been fatal.

The anger stood out plain and clean on his face. There was a sort of innocence to him, I thought. I do not mean this as the poets mean it: a virtue to be broken by the story’s end, or else upheld at greatest cost. Nor do I mean that he was foolish or guileless. I mean that he was made only of himself, without the dregs that clog the rest of us. He

He smelled like green leaves and running sap.

I would go on through the countless millennia, while everyone I met ran through my fingers and I was left with only those who were like me.

That is one thing gods and mortals share. When we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world.

Let me say what sorcery is not: it is not divine power, which comes with a thought and a blink. It must be made and worked, planned and searched out, dug up, dried, chopped and ground, cooked, spoken over, and sung. Even after all that, it can fail, as gods do not. If my herbs are not fresh enough, if my attention falters, if my will is weak, the