Assassin's Quest

Verity nodded. "I suspect they have abandoned him then. Perhaps. Do not trust that is true." His eyes came back to me. I was trying to remain standing. I had felt it as they fled the Fool. Felt it like a silk thread abruptly parting. They had not had a strong hold on him, but it had been enough. Enough to make me reveal all they needed to kill my wife and child. Enough to ransack his dreams each night since then, stealing whatever was of use to them.

I went to the Fool. I took his un-Skilled hand and reached for him. Slowly his eyes opened and he sat up. For a time he stared at us all without comprehension. His eyes came back to mine, shame washing through their smoky depths. " `And the one who loves him best shall betray him most foully.' My own prophecy. I have known that since my eleventh year. Chade, I had told myself, when he was willing to take your child. Chade was your betrayer." He shook his head sadly. "But it was me. It was me." He got slowly to his feet. "I am sorry. So sorry."

I saw the start of tears on his face. Then he turned and walked slowly away from us. I could not bring myself to go after him, but Nighteyes rose soundlessly and trailed at his heels.

"FitzChivalry." Verity took a breath, then spoke quietly. "Fitz, I will try to finish my dragon. It is really all I can do. I only hope it will be enough."

Despair made me bold. "My king, will not you do this for me? Will not you Skill a warning to Burrich and Molly, that they may flee Capelin Beach before they are found?"

"Oh, my boy," he said pityingly. He took a step toward me. "Even if I dared to, I fear I have not the strength any more." He lifted his eyes and looked at each of us in turn. His gaze lingered longest on Kettricken. "It all fails me. My body, my mind, and my Skill. I am so tired, and there is so little left of me. When I killed Carrod, my Skill fled me. My work has been greatly slowed since then. Even the raw power on my hands weakens, and the pillar is closed to me; I cannot pass through it to renew the magic. I fear I may have defeated myself. I fear I will not be able to complete my task. In the end, I may fail you all. All of you, and the entire Six Duchies."

Kettricken bowed her face into her hands. I thought she would weep. But when she lifted her eyes again, I saw the strength of her love for the man shining through whatever else she felt. "If this is what you believe you must do, then let me help you." She gestured at the dragon. "There must be something I can do to help you complete it. Show me where to cut stone away, and then you can work the details."

He shook his head sadly. "Would that you could. But I must do it myself. It all must be done by me."

Kettle suddenly surged to her feet. She came to stand beside me, giving me a glare as if everything were all my fault. "My lord, King Verity," she began. She seemed to lose courage for a moment, then spoke again louder. "My king, you are mistaken. Few dragons were created by a single person. At least, not the Six Duchies dragons. Whatever the others, the true Elderlings could do on their own, I do not know. But I know that those dragons that were made by Six Duchies hands were most often made by an entire coterie working together, not a single person."

Verity stared at her mutely. Then, "What are you saying?" he demanded in a shaking voice.

"I am saying what I know. Regardless of how others may come to think of me." She gave one glance around at us, as if bidding us farewell. Then she put her back to us and addressed only the King. "My lord king. I name myself Kestrel of Buck, once of Stanchion's Coterie. But by my Skill I did slay a member of my own coterie, for jealousy over a man. To do so was high treason, for we were the Queen's own strength. And I destroyed that. For this I was punished as the Queen's Justice saw fit. My Skill was burned out of me, leaving me as you see me; sealed into myself, unable to reach beyond the walls of my own body, unable to receive the touch of those I had held dear. That was done by my own coterie. For the murder itself, the Queen banished me from the Six Duchies, for all time. She sent me away so that no Skilled one would be tempted to take pity on me and try to free me. She said she could imagine no worse punishment, that one day in my isolation I would long for death." Kettle sank slowly to her old knees on the hard stone. "My king, my queen, she was right. I ask your mercy now. Either put me to death. Or …" Very slowly she lifted her head. "Or use your strength to reopen me to the Skill. And I will serve you as coterie in the carving of this dragon."

All was silence for a time. When Verity spoke, it was in confusion. "I know of no Stanchion's Coterie."