...he left her, as he might leave some drunken girl in a tavern, presumptuous, and asking no Please. And he meant it for Good Bye!

Creaking, and clanking pans that festooned it like advertisement, the cart slowed. The trader under his wide hat, and his stringy son, both wide-eyed.

She could not tell brave Borysko the wondrous thing: that his Urska had healed Calla’s wound, somehow.

You will know it, soon enough – and the Assessor of the Mages’ Circle picked herself up like an old woman, plodded over to the cart.