Fool’s Quest

“That’s mine!” I said, my declaration harsher than I intended. The hurt in his eyes rebuked me as I took it from his hands. It was all I could do not to snatch it from him.

“Sir, if it’s not too late . . . I’d still like to learn my letters. Perhaps someday I could read what she wrote.”

“It’s private,” I said. “But yes, I will teach you to read. And to write.”

He looked at me with dumb dog’s eyes. My scowl sent him back to work immediately.

We hurried and yet time seemed to slip away from us. The early Mountain shadows of evening had begun to creep across the land when we were finished. The Fool’s tent made a surprisingly small bundle. I could not say the same for the warm winter garments the Fool and Spark had packed. Woolen skirts and shawls were far heavier than I would have expected them to be.

“The packs are too heavy and awkward,” Lant observed. He’d kept his voice neutral; it wasn’t a complaint. “If we have to be ready for anything as we emerge from the pillar, carrying these is not a good plan.”

He was right. “We won’t carry them. We’ll grip them as we go through, to be sure they travel with us. We’ve no idea what we’ll find. They may be there and safe, or injured. Or captured.” In a quieter voice I added, “Or not there at all.”

“Like Bee,” Per said in a small voice. He took a breath and squared his shoulders. “Could that happen to us? That we go into the pillar and never come out?”

“It could,” I admitted.

“Where would we be then? What would happen to us?”

How to describe it? “I think we would . . . become part of it. I’ve felt it, once or twice. It doesn’t hurt, Per. In fact, that’s the danger of the Skill to young users. That it feels as if it might be good to let go and tatter away and merge with it.”

“Merge with what?” His brow was furrowed. Lant’s face was pale.

“The Skill-current. I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Maybe merge with Bee?”

I took a breath. “Highly unlikely, boy. And I don’t want to speak of that, please. You can stay here if you wish. I can try to Skill to Dutiful and ask him to send a Skill-user through the pillar to take you back to Buckkeep. But you’d be here for at least two days, I think. In the cold, with little food, and a possible visit from a bear. Still, if you choose that, well, it’s your choice. I’m afraid I can’t stay here with you until they come for you. I have to go after the Fool and Spark as quickly as I can.” Too much time had already passed. I was now as eager to go was I was fearful.

Per hesitated. Lant spoke. “You could just as easily be lost going back to Buck as you might going forward to Kelsingra. I don’t really want to make either journey, but I’ll follow you, Fitz.”

“I’ll go with you, too,” Per said. “How do we do it?”

We lined up at the pillar. I’d attached a hasty strap to each of my crude sacks. One was slung over my shoulder. Per wore his overstuffed pack and gripped my left hand. Lant rested a hand on my right shoulder and had the strap of the largest bag over his shoulder. In his right hand, he had his sword at the ready. I took a moment to myself. I’d never been trained to take others through a pillar with me, though I’d done it before, under duress. I loosed my Wit and made myself aware of both of them, their shapes and their smell, and then groped toward them with my Skill. Neither had any talent for that magic that I could detect, but almost all people have some small spark of it. I could not make either of them aware of my reaching, but I did my best to enfold them in it. I gave them no warning, no chance to hesitate. I gripped my sword in my right hand and pressed my bared knuckles against the cold stone of the pillar.

Blackness. Points of moving lights that were not stars. Per before me, swearing his loyalty. Lant staring at me, his lips folded tight. I held tight to my awareness of them. I wrapped them in myself.

Daylight blasted us. Cold seized me and suddenly I knew that I had to stay on my feet, drop Per’s hand, and protect us.

“’Ware!” someone shouted as I sprang clear of Per and leveled my blade. My sun-dazzled eyes adjusted to the Fool sprawled at my feet and Spark fighting her way clear of the entanglement of the butterfly cloak. We had gone from a fading evening to the brilliant shine of a sunny winter day. Time lost, but even more unsettling, we seemed to have arrived only moments after the Fool and Spark had. I felt Per jostle into me as he got to his feet. He then staggered sideways, retching. Before I could look back to see how Lant had fared, I heard a roar.