A space he has saved for me.
Arranging the ice cream is a whirlwind. I let Nomi and Teren do what they want and let it wash over me, barely listening as I adjust.
Until Teren looks at me and asks, “Are you ready?”
I’m beginning to hate that question.
“For what?” I ask. Isn’t being here the point?
Teren rolls his eyes. “To tell people you have ice cream for them, of course.”
Oh.
You know what?
I think Iamready for that, actually.
I will not be defeated by priests or crowds.
Now when it’s a matter ofice cream.
No sooner have I nodded with determination than Nomi’s voice booms out across the courtyard.
“Blackberry ice cream, while supplies last!” she yells.
The courtyard seems to pause.
Silence hangs in the air.
And then the sound picks up, and there is arushof people making their way for us.
Reflexively, I reach for Zan; find his hand waiting.
I can do this. I am the Sage of Wrath. I can meet fellow humans—
Hmm, no, not sure I believe that.
How about:
I can give people ice cream.
I can give the gift of joy.
The wave crashes over us.
“How much for a scoop?” the first man who’s made it to us demands. He’s big, looming over the table, and I stiffen, trying to hold myself back from reacting with violence.
“Two coppers,” Teren says confidently.
“Two?” the man echoes incredulously. As I snap to attention, ready to defend Teren, he continues, “That’sall? Are you crazy, Teren? You’re going to be overrun!”
Oh.
Huh.
“Look at the line behind you,” Teren says dryly. “We’re already overrun.”
The man hmphs, then turns around and bellows, “One scoop per customer only!” A wave ofawwwsfollows, and he turns back to Teren with a decisive nod. “That should help get youthrough most of them, at least. You’re going to need to raise your prices though.”
