Fool’s Quest

I’m here. We’re fine. My distrust for that pillar flared anew. It had devoured Bee, and we’d experienced a delay. I would not ask Nettle to risk one of her Skilled ones in it, nor chance sending Lant and Per through it again. Thick’s Skill-music rose and fell. I reached for it, and it slipped away. I arrowed my message to them. Don’t worry! We will be fine here. Tell Chade that Lant is with me.

Nothing. No response. Distant music and then that faded. I came back to the tent and Lant’s sullen silence. No. That was the deep steady breathing of sleep. I’d not have to answer his question tonight. I had others to occupy me. Was my Skill damaged somehow? How had I not realized how long we’d been in the pillar? Why was it so difficult to reach Nettle and Dutiful? I should have lain awake worrying but I didn’t. I realized that when Lant shook my shoulder.

“Your watch,” he said hoarsely. I sat up in the dark, and beside me Perseverance muttered at my letting the cold air under the blankets we’d shared. I hadn’t even woken when Per and Lant had changed places. Not good. Dragging them through the Skill-portal had taken a heavier toll on me than I’d realized. I crawled out of the tent, every joint aching, and reached back to take the cloaks I’d added to our blankets but, “Here,” Lant said, and pushed a small bundle of bunched fabric at me. “The boy let me use it. It was all I needed.”

“Thank you,” I said, but Lant was already crawling into the tent. The Elderling cloak was lighter than silk. I shook it out and wrapped it around me and pulled the hood up over my head. For a short time I shivered, and then my own warmth surrounded me. I went to the fire and sat down on a chunk of a log. It was too low and uncomfortable but it was better than sitting in the snow. When I wearied of that, I rose and paced slowly around the old market-circle. I came back to the fire, fed it, packed snow into the pot, melted it with a few tips of the evergreen needles, and drank it as tea. Twice I tried to Skill to Nettle with no success. I sensed a strong current of Skill and the muttering of the Skill-road, imbued with the thousands of memories of Elderlings who had passed over its surface. If Nettle heard me, I could not pick her voice out from theirs.

My mind raveled through the years, and I had leisure to think of all the foolish decisions I’d made. In the dark I mourned the loss of Molly and how I had wasted Bee’s little life. I indulged my hatred for Dwalia and her followers, and raged that they were beyond my vengeance. I lifted and studied my own ridiculous quest. I had to wonder if I would even find Clerres, and what one man could do to topple such an evil nest of cruelty. It was foolish even to try, but it was the last thing I had to give purpose to my life.

I wondered if I were a coward to refuse to risk my eyesight to bring back the Fool’s. No. I was better suited to this mission than he was. I was sad to leave him, but glad he was somewhere warm and safe. If I succeeded in my quest and returned to him, he would forgive me. Perhaps. And perhaps by then, the dragon’s blood he had taken would have restored his sight. I could hope. For him, I could hope for a better life and good years to come. For myself, the only hope I had was that I could kill successfully before I was killed.

The steep thrust of the mountain peaks that surrounded us delayed dawn. When there was enough light to see, I built up the fire, packed both pots with snow and set them to melt, then shouted at the others to wake up. Per stumbled out first, and my reluctance to part with the butterfly cloak shamed me. The cold reached for me with greedy fingers. But my daughter had chosen to protect him under the cloak, and what she had given to him, I would not take away. Lant roused more slowly, and I hastened the process when I took back the two cloaks that had become part of his bedding.

“I’m going hunting,” I told them. “You two are to stay near the camp. Gather lots of wood and keep the fire going. I may not be back until late evening. Or even tomorrow morning.” How far was it? I would travel swiftly and alone, unburdened by a pack animal or companions. I could do it.

“Where are you going?” Per was suspicious.

“I told you. Hunting. I’ll bring back meat, I hope. A good meal for us.”

“You’ve no bow. How can you hunt?”

I was already tired of the conversation. “As I used to. Like a wolf.” I turned and walked away from them. At the edge of the clearing, I stopped. “Cut staves for yourselves. There are wild animals here, some big enough to think you’d be prey. Lant, practice with the boy. Teach him what you know.” I turned away from them. Whacking at each other with staves would both occupy them and keep them warm. As I walked away, Motley cawed derisively after me but did not follow.