"Hear it, this story of all yesterdays," Trals translated, "so much yesterdays, if every year marked one stone, and are more stones than bull triceratops can't them carry..."

"Once upon a time, I think you mean."

"Yes." The big man shifted, his dreadlocks rattling over the back of his pro-wrestler's belt. "Once upon a time, the great city Megga stand on the Face of God. Its fate: poison. The poison: salt. Poisoned it the Face of God..."

And so on. It was a sort ...