Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

He was towering in his rage, but for once I stood my ground.

“What of it?” I snarled. “It beats starving. What’s so good about being’a magician, anyway? I mean, your life-style here gives me so much to look forward to.”

I gestured at the cluttered room that was the entirety of the hut.

“Listen to the wolfling complain,” Garkin sneered. “It was good enough for you when the winter drove you out of the woods to steal. ‘It beats sleeping under a bush,’ you said.”

“And it still does. That’s why I’m still here. But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life here. Hiding in a little hut in the woods is not my idea of a future to look forward to. You were living on roots and berries until I came along and started trapping meat for the fire. Maybe that’s your idea of a wonderful life, Garkin, but it’s not mine!”

We glared at each other for several long moments. Now that my anger was vented, I was more than a little afraid. While I had not had extensive experience in the field, I suspected that sneering at magicians was not the best way to ensure a long and healthy future.

Surprisingly enough, it was Garkin who gave ground first. He suddenly dropped his gaze and bowed his head, giving me a rare view of the unkempt mass of hair atop it.

“Perhaps you’re right, Skeeve,” his voice was strangely soft. “Perhaps I have been showing you all the work of magik, but not the rewards. I constantly forget how suppressed magik is in these lands.”

He raised his eyes to meet mine again, and I shivered at the impact. They were not angry, but deep within them burned a glow I had never seen before.