Assassin's Quest

And I feel yours, he answered ominously.

He left then, but reluctantly. I followed the Fool into the woods, but did little more than carry the wood he picked up and handed to me. I felt as if I could not quite wake up. "Have you ever been studying something tremendously interesting, only to suddenly look up and realize hours have passed? That is how I feel just now."

The Fool handed me another stick of wood. "You are frightening me," he informed me quietly. "You speak much as King Shrewd did in the days he was weakening."

"But he was drugged then, against pain," I pointed out. "And I am not."

"That is what is frightening," he told me.

We walked together back to camp. We had been so slow that Kettle and Starling had gathered some fuel and got a small fire going already. The light of it illuminated the dome-shaped tent and the folk moving around it. The jeppas were shadows drifting nearby as they browsed. As we piled our wood by the fire for later use, Kettle looked up from her cooking.

"How are you feeling?" she demanded.

"Better, somewhat," I told her.

I glanced about for any chores that needed doing, but camp had been set without me. Kettricken was inside the tent, poring over the map by candlelight. Kettle stirred porridge by the fire while, strange to say, the Fool and Starling conversed quietly. I stood still, trying to recall something I'd meant to do, something I'd been in the middle of doing. The road. I wanted another look at the road. I turned and walked toward it.

"FitzChivalry!"

I turned, startled at the sharpness in Kettle's call. "What is it?"

"Where are you going?" she asked. She paused, as if surprised by her own question. "I mean, is Nighteyes about? I haven't seen him for a bit."

"He went to hunt. He'll be back." I started toward the road again.

"Usually he's made his kill and come back by now," she continued.

I paused. "There's not much game near the road, he said. So he's had to go farther." I turned away again.

"Now, there's a thing that seems odd," she went on. "There's no sign of human traffic on the road. And yet the animals avoid it still. Doesn't game usually follow whatever path is easiest?"

I called back to her, "Some animals do. Others prefer to keep to cover."

"Go and get him, girl!" I heard Kettle tell someone sharply.

"Fitz!" I heard Starling call, but it was the Fool who caught up with me and took me by the arm.

"Come back to the tent," he urged me, tugging at my arm.

"I just want to have another look at the road."

"It's dark. You'll see nothing now. Wait until morning, when we're traveling on it again. For now, come back to the tent."

I went with him, but told him irritably, "You're the one who is acting strange, Fool."

"You'd not say that, had you seen the look on your face but a moment ago."

The rations that night were much the same as they had been since we left Jhaampe: thick grain porridge with some chopped dried apple in it, some dried meat, and tea. It was filling, but not exciting. It did nothing to distract me from the intent way the others watched me. I finally set down my tea mug and demanded, "What?"

No one said anything at first. Then Kettricken said, bluntly, "Fitz, you don't have a watch tonight. I want you to stay in the tent and sleep."

"I'm fine, I can stand a watch," I began to object, but it was my queen who ordered, "I tell you to stay within the tent tonight."

For a moment I fought my tongue. Then I bowed my head. "As you command. I am, perhaps, overly tired."

"No. It is more than that, FitzChivalry. You scarcely ate tonight, and unless one of us forces you to speak you do nothing save gaze off into the distance. What distracts you?"

I tried to find an answer to Kettricken's blunt question. "I do not know. Exactly. At least, it is a difficult thing to explain." The only sound was the tiny crackling of the fire. All eyes were on me. "When one is trained to Skill," I went on more slowly, "one becomes aware that the magic itself has a danger to it. It attracts the attention of the user. When one is using the Skill to do a thing, one must focus one's attention tightly on the intent and refuse to be distracted by the pulling of the Skill. If the Skill user loses that focus, if he gives in to the Skill itself, he can become lost in it. Absorbed by it." I lifted my eyes from the fire and looked around at their faces. Everyone was still save for Kettle, who was nodding ever so slightly.

"Today, since we found the road, I have felt something that is almost like the pull of the Skill. I have not attempted to Skill; actually, for some days, I have blocked the Skill from myself as much as I can, for I have feared that Regal's coterie may try to break into my mind and do me harm. But despite that, I have felt as if the Skill were luring me. Like a music I can almost hear, or a very faint scent of game. I catch myself straining after it, trying to decide what calls me …."

I snapped my gaze back to Kettle, saw the distant hunger in her eves. "Is it because the road is Skill-wrought?"