Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 154
about this--words could not encompass it, they were too small.
The part of him he had communed with had been beyond
words, or any of a human’s five senses; it had invented senses,
and sense, to suit its intimacies.
He wanted to speak to her in thunder, in torn ground and
shocked air. Would have, had he only the strength.
Reminded that she had given him what strength he did
have, he looked down.
"I think... I did die," he said. It was the only human
analogue he could think of. "I died when... She died." She was
completely wrong to describe his higher Self; but Megan's
people thought their souls were feminine. He struggled to find
words, wrapping his arms around himself, glaring past her.
"More than a wife. More than a queen. My god died, who
gave meaning to more than just my life, who infused
everything, the stones, the air, with it."
Megan nodded. "I knew. From things you said in your
sleep. From the look of you." She sighed. "Yes, you see, we
are together in that."
"No. Not like you." He sat up angrily, feeling sharp
stabs of pain in his side. Megan stared at him, patient and
undaunted.
He wanted to pierce her calmness, her certainty that her
own pain was as great as his. "She wasn't a human being," he
said. She was... a Wind."
Megan blinked. Her brow wrinkled, then cleared.
"Much is made clear," she said. It was his turn to look
surprised. Megan reached out, slowly, and touched the healing
scar under his chin. "I know the rites of death," she said. "I
have had to perform them myself."
Armiger sat back. His anger was deflated. For some
reason, he felt unfulfilled, as if he had lied to her, and not