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. I knew if I asked him, he would hate me like
everyone else hated me, and I just couldn't stand that.
Cotterpin went back to his cart and heaved something out
of the back, then began to set up something beside my rock
that looked like a box with a metal plate on it and a switch
on one end, with red gnomish lettering all over it that I
couldn't read. He fiddled with the box for a bit, then went
back to the cart and got a clay mug from it and filled it with
liquid from a tap on the side of his cart, then set it on the
box and flipped the switch. I knew I should run or hide or
shield my face when he did that, as everyone knows that
gnome-built things can make craters as big as the one Istar
now rests in, but I didn't feel like running, and I thought
maybe it would be best if I blew up with the box.
But the box didn't blow up; it just got warm after a
while and the tea in the mug got warm, too. I was trying to
figure that one out while Cotterpin went back to the cart and
brought back a steam-powered folding chair that also failed
to blow up and which he set up next to me under the tree so
he could relax in it and enjoy the same warm setting sun
that I was not enjoying.
"A pleasant respite it is to renew our long acquaintance,
Walnut Arskin," he said in his same old deep but nasal
voice, "though I suffer some concern about the
circumstances. Perhaps you would care to elaborate on your
condition."
I thought about it and finally said, "No."
"Mmm." Cotterpin took a sip of his tea, then held the
mug in his short, thick fingers and swirled the contents
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