He thought of killing himself, and even prepared a random cocktail of drugs that he filched from Deomouvadaïn’s herb garden. But after a while the shock of his sentence wore off and once more he tried to connect with the Green Man in order to know what to do. He put the packet of drugs in his pocket and forgot about them.He forced himself to think with pure logic. He was confined for ever—or at least for as long as he was a leaf of the Green Man. Since he could not imagine leaving the strong, noble trunk of his demiurge, that meant he had to act using what lay within the boundary of the Shrine. Well, that included his secret audio-papyrus, the Drum Houses, and the Tech Houses.One thing he knew. He must thwart the un-men, the hags, the flower lovers. In the name of the Green Man he must do something. He knew it would be impossible for him to become an ordinary initiate, poring over scrolls, learning texts, rhymes, sinking into the dialect of Emeralddis, becoming a simple cleric. He knew without question that he was more than that.
