You give it to me every time you open your mouth. -Laclac Riddle There was a moon, McKie realized. That glowing thing directly in front of him had to be a moon. The realization told him he'd been seeing the moon for some time, puzzling over it without being fully awake. The moon had lifted itself out of blackness above a paralyzed outline of primitive roofs. He was still in the village, then. The moon dangled there, incredibly close. The back and left side of McKie's head began throbbing painfully. He explored his bruised senses, realized he had been staked out in the open flat on his back, wrists and ankles tightly bound, his face pointed at the sky. Perhaps it was another village. He tested the security of his bindings, couldn't loosen them. It was an undignified position: flat on his back, legs spread, arms outstretched.
