I saw by his face that he was serious. “I dread it, too. That is, I know I should dread it, but I simply can't focus on it right now. Too many other thoughts overwhelm me. How will I dry my clothes before tomorrow, and I was supposed to report back to Chade later, yet I do not think I should wander through the camp in this robe, however warm it is. Yet I cringe at the thought of putting my wet clothing back on, even for the brief walk back to Dutiful's tent. I left my pack there, with all my dry things in it. Thick's things are in it, too. But that's good, because Thick is there and he'll need them.”
“Hush,” he begged me, interrupting the outpour of my thoughts. “Hush, please, Fitz, and let me try to think. Always before, elfbark has done no more than dampen your talent, and that was passing. Do we dare hope that this will wear off and your magic return?”
I shrugged wildly. “I don't know. I don't think we can judge anything about this by what elfbark has done to me before. Did I tell you how close Thick came to eating it as well?”
“No. You didn't.” The Fool spoke carefully, as if I were slightly mad, and perhaps I was at that time. “Would you try to do this for me? Leave your hair and your mouth alone. Fold your hands in your lap and tell me what happened to you today. The whole day, please.”
I had not realized that I was tugging at my lower lip until he mentioned it. I folded my hands in my lap and made an effort to report to him as if he were Chade. I watched his face grow graver as I spoke and I knew that my words rattled out like hailstones, and that my tale was disjointed, told in bits and patches as I wove the events back and forth in my mind. Before I had finished, I was up and pacing the small confines of his tent. I could not master my agitation. A sudden inspiration came over me. “Here!” I cried, advancing on him, my bared wrist thrust out to him. “Let us test it and see if my Skill is as gone as I think it is. Touch me. Try to reach into me with the Skill as you once did.”
He stared up at me, his face gone slack with astonishment. Then a sickly smile of disbelief spread over his face. “You're asking me to do this?”
“Of course. Yes. Let's find out how bad it is. If you can still reach me, then perhaps my Skill will come back to me as the herb wears off. Let's try it.” I sat down beside him, and set my forearm, wrist up, on top of his knee. He looked at his faded fingerprints on my wrist and then gave me a sideways look.