‘But I mean how shall the White Gods tell me my name?’ she asked in an exasperated voice.
‘Speechless, you shall speak my name.
‘Must you speak? Why then again,
‘In speaking you shall say the same,’ the Soul-Sage said cryptically.
Isabeau repeated the words to herself, having to fight down another gurgle of disbelieving laughter. The Khan’cohbans were very fond of riddles, proverbs and aphorisms, which often made for very tedious conversations. Isabeau had never been very good at guessing riddles, but she knew better than to demand an explanation.
The Soul-Sage crossed her hands at her breast, then swept them out, palms flat. The Scarred Warrior repeated the gesture of farewell, and then together they turned and made their way down the side of the hill without a backward glance, leaving Isabeau alone on the crest of the mountain.
Kate Forsyth, The Forbidden Land
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