"Then you must practice," he tells Miquel. "As a soldier, you'll know about building yourself up. Up until now you've been like a weaver battering off the dark with a length of iron you've happened to find that's too heavy for you. Your aptitude for it has let you succeed, but both you and the iron need toning. It can be done, that it can."
But Miquel keeps talking, and then Cesare joins in, and he starts looking a little bit trapped. "Maa, ne," he exclaims. "I haven't conjured anything, mou. Look, it's been as good as broken for a long time, I just thought I'd fix it while I couldn't feel it. I'm only flaying away what shouldn't be there."