Sherwood Smith Quote

Are you Countless of Tlanth? she asked as I dismounted.I nodded, and she bustled over to a friend, handed off the horse, then beckoned me inside. I’m to show you to the south parlor, my lady.Muddy to the eyebrows, I squelched after her up a broad stair into a warm, good-smelling hallway. Genial noise smote me from all directions, and people came and went. But my guide threaded her way through, then indicated a stairway with a fine mosaic rail, and pointed. Top, right, all across the back is where your party will be, she said. Parlor’s through the double door. She curtsied and disappeared into the crowd.I trod up the stairs, making wet footprints on the patterned carpet at each step. The landing opened onto a spacious hallway.I turned to the double doors, which were of foreign plainwood, and paused to admire the carving round the latch, and the painted pattern of leaves and blossoms worked into it. Then I opened one, and there in the middle of a lovely parlor was Shevraeth. He knelt at a writing table with his back to a fire, his pen scratching rapidly across a paper.He glanced up inquiringly. His hair seemed damp, but it wasn’t muddy, and his clothing looked miraculously dry.I gritted my teeth, crossed my arms, and advanced on him, my cold-numbed lips poonched out below what I knew was a ferocious glare.Obviously on the verge of laughter, he raised his quill to stop me. As the winner, he murmured, I choose the time and place.You cheated, I said, glad enough to have the embarrassment postponed.If you had waited, I would have shown you that shortcut, he retorted humorously.It was a trick, I snarled. And as for your wager, I might as well get it over now.He sat back, eyeing me. Wet as you are--and you have to be cold--it’d feel like kissing a fish. We will address this another time. Sit down and have some cider. It’s hot, just brought in. May I request your opinion of that? He picked up a folded paper and tossed it in my direction. He added, with a faint smile, Next time you’ll have to remember to bring extra gear.How come you’re not all soggy? I asked as I set aside my sodden hat and waterlogged riding gloves.He indicated the black cloak, which was slung over a candle sconce on the wall, and the hat and gloves resting on a side table. Water-resistant spells. Expensive, but eminently worthwhile.That’s what we need in Remalna, I said, kneeling on the cushions opposite him and pouring out spicy-smelling cider into a porcelain cup painted with that same leaf-and-blossom theme. A wizard.Shevraeth laid his pen down. I don’t know, he said. A magician is not like a tree that bears fruit for all who want it and demands nothing in return. A wizard is human and will have his or her own goals.And a way of getting them that we couldn’t very well stand against, I said. All right. No wizard. But I shall get me one of those cloaks.