Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin
ONE of the few redeeming facets of instructors, I thought, is that occasionally they can be fooled. It was true when my mother taught me to read, it was true when my father tried to teach me to be a farmer, and it's true now when I'm learning magik. "You haven't been practicing!" Garkin's harsh admonishment interrupted my musings. "I have too!" I protested. "It's just a difficult exercise." As if in response, the feather I was levitating began to tremble and wobble in midair. "You aren't concentrating!" he accused. "It's the wind," I argued. I wanted to add "from your loud mouth," but didn't dare. Early in our lessons Garkin had demonstrated his lack of appreciation for cheeky apprentices. "The wind," he sneered, mimicking .....
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