The door opened, and we were met by a fifty-something man with a grizzled blond beard. He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt. Also, he had an eye patch. "This is incredible," I heard Adrian murmur. "Beyond my wildest dreams.
Richelle MeadLook who's calling the cauldron black." "Kettle. Itโs a kettle. Get your metaphors right." "That wasnโt a metaphor. It was a, you know..." He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things thatโs symbolic of another thing. But isnโt the same thing. Just like it." "You mean a metaphor?" "No! Itโs like a story...like...a proverb! Thatโs it." "Iโm pretty sure that wasnโt a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy." "I donโt think so.
Richelle Mead