“What is ‘Skill-wrought’?” the Fool asked me. “Shaped by the Skill,” I replied, then added, “I suppose. I’ve never heard of the Skill used to make or shape something.” I looked wondering back at the road. It flowed so smoothly through the forest, a pure white ribbon, vanishing off under the trees. It drew the eye, and almost I could see what lay beyond the next fold of the forested hillside.
