“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?”
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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.
I spun, or tried to, bringing my sword up to the ready. Even before my eyes found the great green dragon charging toward us, my Wit-sense reeled from the size and presence of the creature. He was coming toward us as fast as the wind blowing. I heard the clash of his silver claws on the stone street. His front legs reached, seized ground, and flung him forward. His hide was rippled with silver like water stains on fabric. This was no charging cow, but a powerful, angry creature. His roar struck me again, a sound with an edge of strange Skill and Wit. “Intruders!”
I was no Burrich, to drop a stone dragon to its knees with the power of my Wit. I did not lift my voice but I set myself firmly before his charge and held my sword firm. That was the challenge I flung at him, my defiance, an animal-to-animal declaration, yet I was shocked to see him suddenly brace his front feet, claws screaming on the black stone as he slid to a halt. His tail lashed, a powerful limb that could probably have toppled trees. He threw his head back, jaws opened wide. There were bright flares of color inside his open mouth, shocking orange edging to flaring red. Poison, such colors warn in a lizard or frog. He drew a great breath and I saw the sacs inside the sides of his mouth swell. I dreaded what I knew might follow, something I’d only heard tales about: a pale mist of venom that dissolved flesh and ate bones and pitted stones. But as he drew in the air, something changed in the dragon’s stance. I could not read it. Anger? Puzzlement? He stood, a stiff ruff of silver spines erecting to stand out around his neck like a thorny mane. He breathed out, a hot exhalation of meaty stench, and then drew in more air, slowly wagging his head on his sinuous neck. He was taking our scent.
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I had seen dragons before. I’d touched minds with Tintaglia, the first of the queen dragons to return to our world. I’d seen Icefyre’s first flight when he emerged after years of being locked in a glacier. I’d watched mating dragons, seen them dive onto penned cattle offered to them as a bribe. I knew only too well how powerful they were, and how quickly they could reduce a bull to a bloody carcass. I had known that my sword was virtually useless against a bear; against a dragon, it was ridiculous. Lant abruptly stepped up beside me. He’d lifted his blade as well, but it wavered wildly. “Sick,” he gasped, but he didn’t retreat.
“Get under it!” I heard Per order someone hoarsely. “Lie close. It can conceal both of you. ” He staggered to my left side, his belt-knife out. “Are we going to die now?” he asked in a quavering voice that broke to shrillness at the end.
“Where is the one who belongs to a dragon?”
Dragon-speech. Sound was only a part of it. Some, I knew, could not understand dragons when they spoke. They heard only the roars, grunts, and snarls of a wild creature. I’d understood the words but could make no sense of them. I stood still and silent.
“I smell him. I smell one dragon-touched, chosen by a dragon we have long believed dead. Are you here by his command?”
I guessed what he smelled. The dragon’s blood the Fool had used. Per made a retching sound. I heard no sound from the Fool or Spark. I took a breath. “We mean no harm,” I called to the dragon. Then I swiveled my head. My Wit had told me someone else approached, and the figure I saw striding toward me was one from my childhood nightmares. He was tall and scarlet-skinned, with blazing blue eyes, as if light shone through sapphires. His tall frame was cloaked in a flowing tunic of gold and loose black trousers. He was long-limbed in proportions that were appropriate to his height, but not human. He wore battle harness such as I’d never seen, but the sword that he pulled ringing from its sheath was an all-too-familiar tool to me. Elderling, like the creatures that had stared down from the tapestry that had graced the wall of my boyhood bedchamber. He spoke as he strode toward us. “Well done, Arbuc! I knew these invaders could not evade us for long! And now they will answer for …”
His words trickled away as he halted and stared at us. “These are not the thieves I chased! Who are you, how do you come here, and what do you wish? Answer with words or blood, it’s all one to me. ” He stood and held his weapon in a style I did not recognize. Formality. Always choose formality first.
I did not sheathe my blade but neither did I move it in a threatening way. I was glad now that I’d layered my pretty cloak over my serviceable one. I made as courtly a bow as I could with a bared weapon. “Well met, good sir. We are emissaries to Queen Malta and King Reyn of the Dragon Traders. We come from the Six Duchies. We would be most grateful if you would escort us to their palace. ”
My lack of aggression puzzled him. I saw that Lant had taken my cue and lowered the tip of his blade. Per stood at the ready. Of the Fool and Spark, I heard not a whisper. I hoped no betraying t
oe peeped out from under the butterfly cloak’s camouflage.
The Elderling’s gaze traveled from me to Lant to Per. I knew we were not particularly presentable but I retained my dignity and did not lower my eyes. “How did you get here?” he demanded.
I avoided direct refusal in my answer. “Sir, as you no doubt can tell, we have come a long and weary way. In the Mountains we dealt with cold and were even attacked by a bear. We ask only for audience with the most gracious rulers of Kelsingra. No more than that do we seek. ”
I saw him turn his eyes toward the cliffs and mountains that backed the city we stood in. I tried to remember all I could of this city. I’d been here once before. Indeed, I had come here by my first inadvertent stumble through a Skill-portal, on my journey to find Verity. Without turning my head, my eyes marked the location of the tower where I had first glimpsed the intricate map the Elderlings had left. As I recalled what little I knew of it, I decided to take a risk. “Or, if you are busy on errands of your own, we shall be happy to venture on to the Tower of the Map and wait there for your king and queen to receive us. We know our arrival is unannounced. We do not presume to hope they will see us immediately. ”
I heard the clatter of boots and looked past the scarlet Elderling to see an armed troop advancing toward us. They were men, not Elderlings, and their weaponry and armor were of more familiar sorts than those the red man bore. Six in the front rank, and three more ranks behind them. Outnumbered. A conflict unwinnable with blades.
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It required all my self-discipline to take my eyes off the scarlet Elderling. I looked down and carefully sheathed my blade as if it were an unfamiliar act. Then I smiled genially up at him, just a harmless emissary.
Another Elderling had come to join the dragon. He stood beside the powerful creature and despite his height, the dragon dwarfed him. This Elderling was lightly scaled in green and silver and he reached out a hand to touch the dragon’s shoulder. The green dragon abruptly advanced two steps. He took in our scent again and said, “One of them is dragon-claimed. I smell it on him. ” The immense head on the thickly muscled neck twisted. “A dragon I have not smelled before,” he said, as if dredging his memory for a name. “A dragon unseen by us. Does he live yet?” The head with its spinning silver eyes canted in the other direction, but his gaze remained fixed on me.
The militant red Elderling’s gleaming eyes narrowed as he regarded us. “An unknown dragon? Which of you belongs to a dragon?”
How to answer that? I retreated toward truth. “I do not understand the terms you use. Please. If you will escort us to where we can await audience with your rulers, I am sure all will be made clear. ”
“I am sure it will,” he said after a long pause, but his voice was neither warm nor welcoming.
Chapter Thirty-Six
An Elderling Welcome
Select your Skill-couriers by these traits. First, let each courier be at least of journeyman status. Select for independence. Both arrogance and stubbornness may be seen as a virtue for this assignment. A highly developed sense of self is an asset for a courier. Vanity is sometimes a helpful marker, for the vain woman or conceited man is ever self-aware. Youth and a hearty constitution are also advantages.
A courier should serve no more than three years, with two years of rest between each year of service. A specific route of pillars should be assigned and the courier should travel the same routes over and over. Thus will his sense of place become well developed. The Skill-user who knows where he is going and recognizes where he is when he arrives is better able to maintain his self intact.
If the courier is strong enough to serve as an escort for the unSkilled, see that he is patient and responsible. Let those he guides always rest for at least three days between each leg of a journey.
—Arrow, of Gantry’s Coterie, writing about the qualities of a courier
I kept my diplomat’s poise and swept him a bow. “We are so grateful to you. I am Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, of the Six Duchies. Lord Lant Fallstar accompanies me, and our serving lad, Perseverance of Withywoods. ”
As I introduced them, Lant sheathed his blade and made a far more elegant bow than I could ever have mastered, one that involved much sweeping of his cloak. I smothered a smile as Perseverance made a brave attempt to copy him. I gestured casually at our tumbled baggage. “Perhaps you could arrange for our things to be brought with us? The bear made short work of our picketed horses, and did great damage to our bags. ” This was the gamble I was most reluctant to take. I knew that I would have taken an opportunity to search the baggage of any strangers who had mysteriously appeared inside the walls of Buckkeep Castle. The red fellow looked down at us in disapproval bordering on disdain.
“We keep no slaves here. As you have carried them this far, a bit farther will not hurt you. ”
“Very well. ” I tried to conceal my relief. “And, sir, I do not recall that you favored us with your name?”
A subtle reminder that I would know who he was and would perhaps speak of him to his queen. He had not sheathed his weapon and he did not look daunted by my request. “I am General Rapskal, leader of the Kelsingra Militia. Gather your things. I will take you to my rulers. ”
I glanced back at the dragon and his keeper. The Elderling said something to him and then hastened away. The dragon apparently decided we were not interesting. He turned and lumbered off in a different direction. In the distance, I heard a crow caw.
And so we loaded up with our heavy packs once more. I saw no sign of the butterfly cloak and what it concealed, and I took care not to look for it. I had heard Spark speak when we arrived; perhaps that meant she was not in too poor a condition. Realizing one makeshift pack seemed to be missing, I gave a quick glance round, hoping it was under the cloak and not lost to the Skill-passage. Ah, well: Its absence allowed me to be mostly unencumbered and properly aristocratic as we were marched through Kelsingra.
It was a strange experience for me. I raised my Skill-walls and still the city spoke to me of a sunny winter day from its youth. A huddle of human merchants hastened past me, traders from some far city perhaps. They stayed close together and walked swiftly, glancing all about them as they passed us. A youth with a heavy line of scales on his brow and lizard-like wattles along his jaw swept the walkway outside a shop where meat hung on hooks over smoky fires. A girl with a basket on her arm passed us at a trot. Interspersed among these mundane forms, the ghosts of Elderlings strode and laughed and haggled with one another. I wondered if it was my Skill that made them seem so real. A sudden fistfight broke out between two of them and I instinctively moved away from it. “So. You can see them,” Rapskal observed. He did not slow for the ancient altercation, and I did not reply to him.
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I wondered how Lant and Per perceived it, and wondered even more if the city whispered to the human guardsmen who walked ahead of, beside, and behind us. With a waft of smell and wind, a green-and-silver dragon passed over us, climbing steadily into the sky. I caught not his thoughts exactly, but his intent. He went to the hunt and for one peculiar moment I longed to hunt with him.
The day was cold and the wind off the unseen river had that wet bite to it that cuts through a man. General Rapskal did not slow his pace for weary travelers with heavy loads. Even so, I had time to notice that the city was sparsely populated. Some streets seemed to have inhabited structures, and the next would show signs of long desertion and disrepair. From my journey on the Skill-road, I knew that anything wrought from Skill-worked stone retained its shape and purpose far longer than any ordinary work of man. The wind might carry debris and scatter dust on the wide streets, but no errant seed had found a crack to take root in, no straggling vine struggled to tear down even the quake-cracked walls. This city had recalled for deserted generations that it was a city, and as if to mock its paltry number of inhabitants it seemed to better remember its distant past as
a center of Elderling culture. I took note of all I saw and contrasted it with what Chade and King Dutiful believed of Kelsingra. Unless we were on the edges of a much more populous center, Kelsingra and the Dragon Traders were presenting a far more prosperous face to the world than they truly could muster.
As I had surmised, we were walked to the base of the map-tower and then up those wide steps. The central stairs had been scaled for a dragon’s stride, as were the tall doors at the top. I dreaded such a climb, but they took us to the human-scaled steps to one side. There, at least, folk were coming and going, some in robes as gaudy as the Fool’s tent and the general’s garb, and some in more prosaic leather and wool. A carpenter passed us, followed by his journeyman and three apprentices, all laden with their tools. I took in the grand art that graced the walls and then General Rapskal and his guards were escorting us into a vast and echoing space.
The immense entry hall was cleaner than I recalled it and much emptier. It was warmer as well, and seemed possessed of a sourceless light. The last time I had visited here, the floor had been littered with the fibers and dust of collapsed wooden furniture. The ancient debris had been cleared away, and a score of new desks and tables strove to occupy a space designed for hundreds. Scribes of various mien and garb occupied them, some perhaps diligently adding numbers, others facing a queue of people waiting with various degrees of impatience. I dreaded that we would be assigned to such a queue, but instead we were marched through that hall, drawing all manner of stares, and ushered through a wooden door and into a smaller chamber.
It was still too large a place for our company, but it offered warmth, and as soon as we halted Lant and Per gratefully set down their burdens. At a gesture from their leader, the troops ranged themselves round the wall. General Rapskal came to stand before me. “I will be immediately calling on the king and queen to see if they are willing to give you an audience. I will not deceive you. I am unhappy with your account of yourself and I will advise them to regard you with the just suspicion that intruders to our city deserve. Wait here. ”