““I was reminded ... the way that wood crumbles into dissolution.’ ‘The release of energy. Perhaps a better way of seeing it.’ ‘Such release is ever fatal.’ ‘Among plants, yes,’ said Caladan Brood. Among plants ... ‘I think of the breath we give them — our gift.’ ‘And the breath they give back,’ said the warlord, ‘that burns if touched. I am fortunate, I think,’ he continued, ‘that I have no appreciation for irony.””
