“She tried to make a fire to warm herself,” I hazarded my guess. “She thought something in the light globe might catch the scrolls on fire.”
He shook his head in disgust. “No. To destroy. Her whole desire that was. Dragons to destroy. Other Prophets to destroy. Beauty. Knowledge.” He nudged one of the oily scrolls that was close to her body. “What she could not control or possess, she destroys.” He met my eyes and added, “She could not control your Fool.”
He set to work alongside me. The unruined scrolls, we loaded into one sack, taking as much care as we could, for some were very old and fragile. Those that had taken the oil I placed separately from the others. I noticed that we both avoided the Pale Woman. When I had to move her body to get at the scrolls beneath her, Prilkop backed away and looked aside. When every single scroll had been rescued, I looked at her lying there. “Do you want me to do something with her body?” I asked him quietly.
He stared at me, as if uncomprehending. Then he slowly nodded.
So it was that I bundled her into one of the sumptuous fur spreads from her bed and dragged her down the hall behind me. He showed me a door, quite small, that I would not have noticed on my own. It opened onto a chute and the distant rush of waves. He had me push her into this. She vanished from sight, and that seemed to give Prilkop much satisfaction.
We returned to the scroll room for our trove. We walked through the halls, dragging the sacks more than carrying them. Scrolls are surprisingly heavy. I winced at every bump as we took them up the stairs, imagining how Chade would scold me for treating them like this. Well, he would not know what condition they were in when I first found them. With Prilkop's help, I got both sacks up to the pillar room. There we paused to catch our breath. For all his years, the old man seemed as spry as a youngster. For the first time, I pondered how old the Fool might live to be. Then, the even more strange thought came to me, to wonder where he was in his life. Was he still a youngster? Did that have any meaning to him? Once he had told me that he was older than Nighteyes and I put together . . . I pushed the thought aside uncomfortably. I did not want to consider how different we were, how different we had always been. Our friendship had crossed that line and made us one.
Just as my bond with Nighteyes had made us one. And yet. I sighed as I followed the Black Man down the steps to the map room. And yet it had not made us the same. I was a man, with a man's concerns with this world, unable to live fully in the now as Nighteyes did, or to stretch his years beyond their span.
Was that how the Fool saw me?
I made a small sound in my throat. Prilkop glanced back at me, but said nothing. When we reached the map room, he paused by the image. He rubbed his hands together as he considered it, then, with a raised eyebrow, he gestured at it.