The Potter Of Firsk And Other Stories - Plot & Excerpts
“Are you Magnus Ridolph?” The tone was direct with overtones of bellicosity. Magnus Ridolph wondered which of his creditors had been so importunate as to pursue him out here on the quiet blue sand beside Veridical Sea. Unfortunate—impossible to avoid him now. Magnus Ridolph said frankly, “I am he.” The carbuncle eyes of the scowling man bored into Magnus Ridolph’s pale blue ones. “I understand you’re a detective.” Magnus Ridolph pursed his lips thoughtfully, touched his neat white beard. “Why, I suppose that term might be used. Generally I refer to myself as—” The scowling man looked off across the ink-black water. “I don’t care what you call yourself. John Southern recommended you.” “Ah, yes,” Magnus Ridolph nodded. “I remember him. The statues in the King of Maherleon’s harem.” The big man’s scowl deepened. “You’re not what I expected.” “Intelligence, facility, resourcefulness are not like neckties, to be displayed as ornaments,” Magnus Ridolph pointed out.
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