"Oats knelt in the mud and tried a prayer, but there was no answering voice from the sky. There never had been. He’d been told never to expect one. That wasn’t how Om worked anymore. Alone of all the gods, he’d been taught, Om delivered the answers straight into the depths of the head. Since the prophet Brutha, Om was the silent god. That’s what they said. If you didn’t have faith, then you weren’t anything. There was just the dark. He shuddered in the gloom. Was the god silent, or was there no one to speak?"