Fools Quest, Page 74

  The forest grew denser and darker. I hurried. Although the year had turned her steps toward spring, the days were still short. My feet got cold and I pulled my hood tighter around my ears. I ran then, plowing through the snow across the path, pounding my feet until they warmed with the exercise. I ran carelessly, spooking a fat bird that might have made a good meal, if I’d had the means to kill it. After that I walked, and ran, and walked again. I ate snow to keep my mouth wet, but avoided chilling my body with too much of it. Onward. I watched the winter sun pass over my head and shadows start to grow long. This was foolishness. Why had I yielded to the impulse? I was as stupid as Lant and Per put together. Then, as evening leached all colors from the day, I came to the first buried hulk beside the snow pathway.

  It had been years but some things a man does not forget. I moved from stone dragon to stone dragon. Here was the one shaped like a wild boar. Here was one with the shape of a dragon. The blue-winged buck’s antlers were edged with snow. They still filled me with awe, each and every one of them.

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  Years ago, with blood and magic, Nighteyes and I had roused these sleeping shapes and sent them winging to Verity’s aid. Verity. My king. He and the old Skill-user Kettle had poured all their memories and even their lives into a magnificent dragon, shaped from Skill-stone, from the same stuff that made up the pillars. And as a dragon, Verity had risen and carried both Kettricken and Starling back to Buckkeep, so that his queen might bear his son and continue his lineage. The dragon he had made at such a cost led the battle against the Red-Ship Raiders and the Outislanders.

  And when all had been vanquished and peace returned to our shores, Verity-as-Dragon had returned here, to slumber with the others in the deep shade beneath the looming trees.

  I found him. I brushed the snow from him, clearing it from the magnificent wings now folded close to his side. I swept his head clean of snow, wiping it away from his closed eyes. Then I pulled off my snowy gloves and set my bare hands to his cold and stony brow. I reached, not with the Skill but with the Wit, and I sought for the king I had served and then lost. I felt the dim flicker of some sort of lingering life in the stone. And when I did, I poured into my touch all the Skill and the Wit I could muster. I opened my heart and confided all to the cold stone dragon. It was not pouring memories into stone as Verity had done to wake his creation. This was a simple reaching to my uncle, to my king, an outpouring of all that had befallen me and all I hoped to do. All my anguish I shared with him, the loss of my wife and child, the Fool’s torment, Chade’s fading, all of it.

  And when I was emptied far beyond tears or hopes of vengeance, I stood still and empty in the cold beside the frozen dragon. A foolish quest. I was here for the night now, with no tent, no fire. I pushed snow aside to bare years of fallen leaves. I sat down between his outstretched front legs and leaned back against his head, slumped on his paws in slumber. I drew my legs in close to me and pulled my hood well forward. I curled up against my king and hoped the cold would not deepen too much tonight. The Skill-stone he was carved from was cold against my back. Was Verity cold, somewhere? Or did he and Kettle play at Stones in some other world, beyond my reach? I closed my eyes and longed to join them.

  Oh, Fitz. You feel so much.

  Did I imagine it? I huddled perfectly still. Then I stripped my glove from my hand and set my bare palm to the scaled cheek of my king.

  Nothing is really lost. Shapes change. But it’s never completely gone.

  Verity?

  Thank you. For my son. For my grandsons.

  My king. Your thoughts warm me.

  Perhaps I can do a bit more than that.

  I felt a rising warmth. Snow melted and slid from the dragon’s body, and he scintillated blue and silver. Warmth flowed up through my hand and into the rest of me. I leaned into stone that suddenly felt alive. But with that rising warmth, my Wit-sense of my king began to fade. I reached for him but could no longer touch him. Verity? I wondered, but he did not respond. Except with warmth. I found I could slide under his chin. I wedged myself under his long jaw, between his front legs. My back stopped aching from the cold. I felt cupped in wonder and safety. I closed my eyes.

  Dawn came. I woke to birds. My own body-warmth within my cloaks was all I felt now. I slithered out into the winter day, brushed dry leaves and needles from my clothes, and set my hand on my king’s scaled brow.

  Chill stone and stillness. Tiny icicles had formed at the corners of his eyes like frozen tear tracks. The bleakness that rose in me was a steep price to pay for that time of connection and comfort. But I did not regret the price. “Farewell,” I told the dragon. “Wish me luck. ”

  I regloved my hands. The warmth that had infused me stayed with me as I turned my steps back toward the camp. I walked steadily and swiftly, hoping I’d see the yellow glow of our fire before all light went out of the day. Clouds covered the sky and slightly warmed the day. I walked, then ran, then walked, and pondered all the questions that I’d never have answered.

  A flicker of one black-edged ear betrayed the hare that crouched under the rose thicket I’d passed the day before. Still as snow, he waited, his winter coat blending with the snow that was speckled with twigs and birds’ droppings. I did not look at him, but continued my pace as I walked almost past him before I spun and fell on him.

  I trapped him under my spread cloak. With gloved hands, I gripped one wildly kicking hind leg. When I was sure I had him, I stood, seized his head in my free hand, and gave his body a violent snap. In that instant his neck was broken and his life was over. He hung motionless, warm and limp and dead as I gripped him by his head. “Death feeds life,” I told him sadly, tucking his furry body under my arm. Pulling my cloak tighter, I continued back to camp.

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  The day faded around me. The trees seemed to lean in closer over the trail, and the cold gripped me more tightly. I tramped on. The golden light of the campfire guided me toward the end of my hike. I felt oddly successful. I had touched Verity again, if only for a short time, and I knew that somewhere my king continued in some other form. The rose hips in my kerchief and the deadweight of the hare made me simmer with pride. I might be old, my joints might ache in the cold, and I had failed in several dozen important ways in the last few months. But I could still hunt, and still bring back meat to share. And that was something, and a bigger something than it had been in a long time.

  So I was weary but not tired as I came back into the circle of firelight. Lant and Perseverance were both crouched by the fire, looking into the flames. I shouted at them, held up my hare, and then tossed it at Per, who caught it in a hug. They both stared at me. I grinned. “What’s wrong? Don’t you know how to dress a hare for the pot?”

  “Of course I do!” Per declared, but Lant spoke over him.

  “The one you call the Fool? He was here. With a girl named Spark. ”

  “What?” The world rocked around me. “Where is he? Why? How?”

  “Gone,” Lant said, and Per added, “They went back into that stone. The same one we came out of. ”

  “No. ” I said it like a prayer, but I knew it was one no god would answer. Lant started to speak. I pointed a finger at him. “You. Tell me everything, every tiny thing. Per, you do the hare. ” I hunkered down on the opposite side of the fire and waited.

  “There’s little to tell. We were keeping watch here, bringing wood and feeding the fire. Per took out his sling and got a squirrel with it. We saved some for you, but when you didn’t return by nightfall, we ate it. We cut staves, and I showed the boy a few moves he didn’t know. We talked. ” He shook his head.

  “There wasn’t much else to do. We gathered more firewood. Then, as full night came on, we heard a sound, like a thud. We both turned and there they were, sprawled in the snow. We didn’t know them at first, for all the heavy clothing they were wearing. Then the smaller one sat up, and Per
shouted, ‘Ash!’ and ran toward them. He helped him to stand, and Ash said right away, ‘Help my master. Is he all right?’ So then we helped the other one to stand, and it was a woman. Then I looked again, and it was the Fool. We brought them over by the fire. They were dressed warmly, but in very old-fashioned clothing, and both were dressed as women. Old furs, very lush but smelling a bit musty. Per called the girl Ash but the Fool said her name was Spark. She had an immense pack on her back, and the Fool had a tall walking stick.

  “The Fool asked Spark who was here, and she told him Per and me, and then the Fool asked us why you weren’t here. And we said you’d gone hunting. We heated water and gave them some hot tea and some of the squirrel broth to the girl, who looked poorly. The Fool said you were going to be very angry with him, but there was no help for that. Then he said, ‘Well, waiting isn’t going to make it any easier or less dangerous. Spark, are you ready for another leap?’ And the girl said she was, but we could all hear how sick she felt. And the Fool told her that she didn’t have to go, that she could stay here and wait, but Spark told him not to be foolish, that he needed her eyes. Then they finished their tea and thanked us and went back to the pillar. When I guessed what they were going to try, I told them that it was dangerous, that you had said we had to wait at least three days before we used a Skill-portal again. But the Fool shook his head and said all life was danger and dead was the only way to be safe. He pulled off his glove, and the girl took out a tiny bottle and put just a few drops of something on his hand. Then the Fool held on to the girl’s shoulder with one hand, and she took his stick, and then the Fool put his other hand on the Skill-pillar. I called to them, asking where they were going. And the girl said, ‘The dragon city. ’ And the Fool said, ‘Kelsingra. ’ And they both just walked into it. ”

  I sat down flat in the snow. I tried to breathe. Dragon blood. That was why he had wanted dragon blood. I could understand why the Fool had come after us. He had always wanted to be a part of this quest. But why dragon’s blood had worked to take him through the pillars, I was not sure. And it made no sense to me that he would go on without me, blind, with only Spark at his side.

  “There was one more thing,” Per said. He’d made a tidy job of his skinning. The hare’s head and paws were still inside the hide he’d stripped cleanly from the animal’s body. The guts were in a pile. He sorted the heart and liver and tossed them into the pot. The rest of the hare, dark meaty red and sinewy white, was already cut into pot-sized pieces. Motley descended and began an inquest of the small gut-pile.

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  “What thing?” I asked.

  “He said, the Fool I mean, he said, ‘Don’t let Fitz follow us. Tell him to stay here and wait. We’ll be back. ’ ”

  “He did say that,” Lant admitted.

  “Anything else? Anything at all?”

  They exchanged looks. “Well, it wasn’t a thing he said, but something they did,” Per said. “Ash left the big pack and most of their supplies here. When they went back into the pillar, they took only a small part of what they’d brought. ” He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Sir, why would Ash and Gray both dress as women?”

  “Probably the only warm garments they could steal easily,” I said to him. “Taken from a forgotten wardrobe that once belonged to an old woman named Lady Thyme. ” Lant twitched at the name, and I wondered how much he knew of his father’s old disguise.

  Per shook his head. “Well, maybe. But their faces … Ash had red lips. Like a girl. So did your friend. So it looked like they did it on purpose. ”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dragons

  From Queen Malta and King Reyn of the Dragon Traders, greetings to King Dutiful and Queen Elliania of the Six Duchies!

  We wish to express our great satisfaction with our recent trade negotiations. Our delegations have praised your hospitality, your courtesy, and your willingness to negotiate. The samples of trade-goods we have received are definitely to our satisfaction, particularly the grain, brandy, and leather.

  Our long-standing agreements with our fellow Traders must prevail, however. Elderling-made goods will be released only through our contacts in Bingtown. We are sure you must be aware of our traditional and familial connections there. We are confident that you will understand our reluctance to abandon those generational alliances.

  While we will not be trading Elderling goods for Six Duchies goods, we promise that our coinage is uniform and unadulterated. As it is a relatively new currency, we understand your reluctance to accept it but if you continue to refuse, we can only turn elsewhere to form our trade alliances, as we are certain you clearly understand.

  As regards the dragons, we appreciate all your concerns. But we hold no authority over the dragons, nor do they owe us any obedience. While we enjoy a deep friendship with the dragons and savor their companionship, we cannot pretend to make any agreements on their behalf, nor do we claim any influence over them to moderate their behavior when in your territory.

  Some individual dragons are amenable to forming agreements about where they hunt or accepting designated largesse when they are visiting foreign countries. The best time to negotiate with dragons is when they wake after they have eaten and slept. Attempting to greet or negotiate with an unfed dragon is not advisable. If you wish, we would be happy to share more of our knowledge of dragons with you, but claim no expertise that will bind them to any agreements.

  Again we thank you for your gracious reception of our trade delegation. We look forward to a long and prosperous commerce between our domains.

  “Did they say nothing of why they were going to Kelsingra? Did they tell you when they might return? Why did they think they had to move on immediately? Why did the Fool not wait for me?”

  Neither Lant nor Per had answers to those questions or any of the others that I asked. I paced like a caged wolf, going from the fire to the stone pillar and back again. I dared myself to follow them, but knew I’d be abandoning Lant and Perseverance to their deaths if I did not return. Then I asked myself if that duty was not just a cover for my own cowardice. A question to which I had no answer.

  We ate the hare, drank the broth, and made a fruity tea from the berries I’d found. While I’d been away, Lant and Per had made improvements to our camp. They’d dragged a longer piece of log to the fireside for us to sit on and had arranged our supplies more efficiently. I looked at the large pack that the Fool and Spark had left. Plainly they had packed for a substantial journey. But if these supplies were for Kelsingra, why had they left them here? And if the Fool had wished to journey with me, why had he and Spark gone on without me? I sat and stared at the fire and waited.

  “Should I take the first watch?” Per asked me.

  His voice startled me. I turned to look at his worried face. “No, Per. I’m not tired yet. You get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s your watch. ”

  He sat down beside me. “I slept while you were gone. There was little else to do. So I’m not tired, either. ”

  I didn’t argue with him. Later, when it was his turn to keep watch, he’d learn that he’d made a poor choice. Lant had already gone to bed. For a time, we stared at the fire in silence.

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  “Why were they dressed like girls?”

  Secrets, secrets, secrets. Who owned the secrets? “You’d need to ask them about that. ”

  He was quiet for a while. Then he asked, “Is Ash a girl?”

  “You’d need to ask Ash about that. ”

  “I did. And he asked me why I was dressed as a boy. ”

  “And what did you answer to that?” I prodded him.

  He was quiet again and then said, “That means he’s a girl. ”

  “I didn’t say that. ”

  “You didn’t have to. ” He hunched tighter toward the fire. “Why would Ash pretend to be a boy?”

  “You’d need to ask Spark abo
ut that. ”

  “Spark. ” The name annoyed him. He scowled and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m not going to bother. I don’t trust him any longer. ” His face set into hardness. “I don’t need a friend who deceives me. ”

  I took a deep breath and then sighed it out. There were a hundred things I could say to him. A hundred questions I could ask that might make him see things differently. But being told something is not the same as learning it. I thought of all the things Verity had told me. Burrich’s stern advice. Patience’s counsel. But when had I learned?

  “Talk to Spark,” I said.

  His silence was long. “Maybe,” he said at last.

  Since, as he said, he seemed wide awake, I left him sitting there, shoved Lant over to make room, and crawled under the blankets. I gnawed on my questions. I must have slept, because I woke when Lant traded places with Per. The boy pushed his back up against mine, sighed heavily, and soon began to snore. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. After a time, I got up and went to join Lant by the fire. He was heating snow-water in a pot for tea. I sat down beside him and stared into the flames.

  “Why do you dislike me so much?”

  I didn’t need to think about it. “You made my daughter unhappy. And when I had to entrust her to you, you didn’t care for her or comfort her. Revel was the one to come and take her in from the snowy wagon. ”

  He was silent. “We were confused, Shine and I. We could make no sense of what you and Riddle were doing. You told us next to nothing. I tried to take Bee out of the wagon and she acted like … like a sulky child. I was tired, and cold, and angry with you. So I left her to find her own way in. If none of this had happened, would it have been so important? Fitz, I did not want to be a scribe, let alone a tutor to children. I wanted to be at Buckkeep Castle, with my friends, following my own life. I’ve never had the care of children, and even you must admit that Bee was no ordinary child. ”