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If it hurts enough, grip with both hands,
Cut it open, let yesterday's curse expand.
Through endless night and day it flows,
Leaving behind only scars that show.
Iger yawned as he got out of bed and, as usual, headed straight for a bath. He had barely stripped and lowered himself into the tub when the doorbell rang persistently.
Frowning, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to answer the door. Ashe stood outside. He said, "Let's play rock-paper-scissors."
"What?"
"Don't ask. Just play. You have to beat me three times."
Iger stared at him. "Is this some kind of ritual?"
"Yes."
"Will it harm me?"
"No."
Iger studied Ashe for a moment. He did not seem to be lying, so Iger said calmly, "Then I refuse."
"Why?"
"Helping you is kindness. Not helping you is common sense. Why should I go out of my way to complete your ritual?"
"Do you really need a reason to help someone?"
"You are not exactly in a position to say that. And do I look like I run a charity?"
Ashe fell silent for a moment. Then he said, "Do you know why sorcerers can't drink water right...
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