“Have you heard about the fire at the circus?” I paused for dramatic effect. “It was in tents. Get it? In tents.” Carrion winced. “That was terrible.” “Shut up. It asked for a joke. It didn't specify that it had to be a good one. I was a metalworker and a thief in Zilvaren, not a comedian.” “I was a smuggler and I've still got way better jokes than that.” “You tell it a joke then!” I held out the crucible containing the quicksilver, and Carrion huffed, peering at the roiling liquid metal. “All right. Fine. A husband turns to his wife one day and says, ‘y’know, I bet you can’t think of
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