Chapter 5: Ku’s Dad Makes a Deal

I studied the holy geometers. Triangle for violence, the sharp points of a tooth. Quadrangle for stability, the flat sides of a brick. Pentangle for magical power, the fingers of the hand, the basis of all manipulation. Hexangle for resilience, the six sides of the scale. And the circle. I paused over that for a moment. The circle, which could have countless angles, or only one; the symbol of ambiguity. Of divinity constrained. Both infinite, and utterly limited. The order mattered. For this, more than so many other things.

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