Lucy looked at the woman. Externally, she looked as though she'd follow Shakti, or maybe Ganesha. Possibly Kali, given the well-hidden stock of rage within. But there were none of the structures inside her mind, none of the hooks where religion usually hung itself. There was talent, however, both intellectual and empathic, although the intellect was hampered by the empathy, and the empathy was teetering on the edge of chaos, twisting on the cusp of darkness.