“It is, in fact, a kind of magic—perhaps the strongest of all,” Morgenes continued. “Study that, if you wish to understand power, young Simon. Don’t fill your head with nattering about spells and incantations. Understand how lies shape us, shape kingdoms.” “But that’s not magic,” Simon protested, lured into the discussion despite himself. “That doesn’t do anything. Real magic lets you . . . I don’t know. Fly. Make bags of gold out of a pile of turnips. Like in the stories.” “But the stories themselves are often lies, Simon. The bad ones are.” The doctor cleaned his spectacles on the wide sleeve of his robe. “Good stories will tell you that facing the lie is the worst terror of all. And there is no talisman or magic sword that is half so potent a weapon as truth.”