Sandry's Book

A girl nearby muttered,"If that's a lady, I'm a cat." Reaching out, Sandry lifted the pitcher of milk from the table. Cradling it in both hands, she walked over to the mutterer. I am Sandrilene fa Toren, daughter of Count Mattin fer Toren and his countess, Amiliane fa Landreg. I am the great-niece of his grace, Duke Vedris of this realm of Emelan, and cousin of her Imperial Highness, Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire. You are Esmelle ei Pragin, daughter of Baron Witten en Pragin and his lady Colledia of House Wheelwright, a merchant house. If I tell you my friend is a lady, then you"- carefully she poured milk into Esmelle's plate-"you had best start lapping, kitty." She set the pitcher down and returned to her chair.

Sandry: "I am silly, now and then. My mother said I was, anyway." Daja: "If you know, you can stop it." Sandry: "Then you've never been silly or you'd know it just creeps up without any warning.

Waves are the voices of tides. Tides are life," murmured Niko. "They bring new food for shore creatures, and take ships out to sea. They are the ocean's pulse, and our own heartbeat.

Without patience, magic would be undiscovered - in rushing everything, we would never hear its whisper inside.

Not all nine-fingered girls have hatchets, she said in Tradertalk. Some of us just tried to have a conversation with a snapping turtle. (Sandry to Daja, referring to her conversation with Tris.)

If thanks was what I wanted," Sandry replied in the same language, "I would be sad indeed. Since I don't want it, I won't miss it.