“I don't want to try the Skill-pillar at all.”
“Um.” I made a sound of agreement. “But eventually, we have to. I cannot leave Thick with the Black Man forever. And I told Chade that we would be on the beach, ready to greet the ship when it arrived. That should be in, oh, in about five days. I think.” I had lost track of time in the ice labyrinth. I tried to be concerned about it. I had blocked all Skill-contact with the coterie since our failed healing attempt. Several times, I'd felt vague scratching at my door, but I'd determinedly ignored them. They were probably concerned for me. I said aloud, to convince myself, “I have a life to get back to.”
“I don't.” The Fool sounded rather satisfied about that. That encouraged me. There were still moments in the day when he halted, motionless, as if listening for futures that no longer beckoned to him. I wondered what it was like for him. For his entire life, he'd endeavored to set the track of time into the path that he perceived as best. And he had achieved that; we lived in the future that he had devised. I think he alternated between satisfaction with the future he had created and anxiety about his role in it. When he gave thought to such things. Sometimes he simply sat, his damaged hands cradled in his lap as he looked at the soil just beyond his knees. His eyes were afar then, his breathing so slow and shallow that his chest scarce moved with it. I knew that when he sat so, he was trying to make sense of things that were inherently senseless. I did not try to talk him out of it. But I did try, as now, to be optimistic about the days to come.
“That's right. You don't have a life that you must return to; no burden to take up, no harness to resume. You died. See how pleasant it can be, to have died? Once you've died, no one expects you to be a king. Or a prophet.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. “You speak from experience.” He spoke pensively, ignoring my jesting tone.
I grinned. “I do.”
He eased himself back onto my cloak beside me and stared up at the sky. He had not smiled. I followed his gaze. The stars were fading. I rolled away from him and came lightly to my feet. “Time to hunt soon. Dawn is coming. Do you feel strong enough to come with me?”
I had to wait for his answer. Then he shook his head. “In all honesty, no. I'm more tired than ever I've been in my life. What did you do to my body? I've never felt this weak and battered.”
You've never been tortured to death before. That did not seem a good answer to give him, so I stepped aside from it. “I think it will take you time to recover, that's all. If you had a bit more flesh on your bones, we could use the Skill to heal you.”