‘You are like the moon’s shimmering path on a still pond,’ Thymara suggested. Harrikin nodded tersely. ‘Let your beauty on the wood be like the moon’s shimmering path on a still pond.’ He spoke to the Silver, and another narrow streak of gleam joined the first. ‘The glorious strength of molten iron running in a steaming stream,’ Carson muttered. Harrikin nodded and spoke again to the Silver. ‘Add to this wood your glorious strength, like the smooth running of molten iron in a steaming stream.’
