“Why should I lie to a creature who dwells in a lighthouse? Observe her quivering tattoos. This is the work of a witch,” Cang says plainly, his nose up.
Ulxurix replies, ostensibly to Cang, though her gaze remains fixed on Abia. “But witches are awful folks, working charms and hexes. Old Ulxurix would never do so.”
“What about that spark we saw? And you turned soup into gold,” Shyan says.
“The work of wizardry, nothing more.”
The gang turns to Abia — even Fassn, who loses a tool or two from his jaw, which clatter to the floor.
Abia feels the weight of expectation settling upon her as her friends await her verdict.
“Not witch,” Abia says slowly. “Wizard.”
A palpable relief sweeps over Ulxurix. “See?” she says, and returns to Fassn’s dental work. “Your gums look rather healthy. Do you floss?”
“Nope!” comes Fassn’s cheerful reply.
Shyan moves over to Abia, careful to keep her attention on the scene before them. She says in a low voice, “What’s the difference between a wizard and a witch, anyway?”