"You can fly. I can fly. Anyone who can afford a ten-crown airship ticket and is fool enough to board one of the ungainly things can fly. That's my point, Mistress -- why bother with these flapping coils of yours, when the skies are filled with amusingly-named airships ready and waiting to bear you to an early grave?" "You know very well they're called flying coils and not flapping coils," said Meralda. "Slip of the tongue, Mistress." Meralda bit back a retort and switched Mug's bird-cage from her right hand to her left. Mug might be an enchanted dandyleaf plant, and thus devoid of a tongue, but Meralda knew only too well he was adept at prolonging pointless arguments merely because it amused him to do so. Count to ten, said Meralda, silently. He's just cranky because the storm kept him awake. Do not rise to his bait. One, two... Voices sounded ahead. Meralda rounded the corner onto Hubert Lane.
