Through the Ice
“Rame was up, and he motioned for Seth to join him outside the shelter. There was a vaguely familiar aroma."Is that bread?" Seth inquired.The satyr was tearing a large brown fruit off a plant. "It is not bread made from grain. It is, however, a fruit which tastes very much like it.""Why pick it if you can conjure it?""Observe." Rame picked up his reed whistle and began to play a very compelling melody. The fruit began to quiver. It shook, until it was practically jumping. With the last staccato note, it vanished."What happened?" Seth asked, dismayed."Nothing negative. I could not conjure this fruit because I had never before encountered the plant, other than in satyr text books. Once it is in my instrument, however, I can conjure as much of it as I need."Rame played again, and the fruit reappeared. "Oh—like doing a cut and paste on a computer!" Seth exclaimed.The faun gazed at him blankly. "We shall cut it, but we have nothing with which to paste it to anything, if that were desirable...."Seth laughed.MoreLess
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