“Liar.” He spoke the word with flat contempt. “You're a Farseer. You may not have the looks of a Farseer, but you have the Skill of one. Who are you? A distant cousin? Someone's byblow?”
I'd been called a bastard many times in my life, but never by someone I might call a son. I looked up at Dutiful, Verity's and Kettricken's heir from the seed of my body. Well, if I'm a bastard, I wonder what that makes you? What I said instead was, “Does it matter?”
While he was still struggling to find an answer to that, I scanned our surroundings. I was stuck in this place with him, at least until the tide went out. If I was fortunate, it would bare the pillar that brought us here, and I could use it to return. If I was unfortunate, the water wouldn't retreat that far, and then I'd have to discover just where we truly were and how to get back to Buckkeep, The Prince spoke angrily to mask his sudden uncertainty. “We can't be that far. It only took us a moment to arrive.”
“Magic such as we used makes little of distance. We may not even be in the Six Duchies anymore.” I abruptly decided he needed to know no more than that. Whatever I told him, the woman would likely know, as well. The less said, the better.
Slowly he sat down on the ground. “But ” he said, and then fell silent. The look on his face was that of an apprehensive child reaching out desperately for something familiar. But my heart did not go out to him. Instead, I repressed an urge to give him a firm whack on the back of the head. For this whimpering, selfobsessed juvenile, I'd traded the lives of my wolf and my friend. It seemed the poorest bargain I'd ever made. Nettle, I reminded myself. Keeping him alive might keep her safe. Farseer heir or not, it was the only value that I could see in him just then.
I am disappointed in my son.
I examined that thought, and reasserted to myself that Dutiful was not my son, and since I had never accepted any responsibility for his rearing, I had no right to be either disappointed or pleased by him. I walked away from him. I let the wolf in me have ascendancy, and he spoke to me of the need for immediate creature comfort. The wind along the beach was constant and chill, slapping my wet garments against my body. Find wood, get a fire going if I could. Dry out. Look for food at the same time. There was no point to agonizing about what had become of Nighteyes and the Fool. The tide was still coming in. That meant that the next low tide would probably come in the dark of night. The following low tide would be sometime the next morning. I had to be resigned that my next opportunity to return to my friends was nearly a full day away. So, for now, gather strength and rest.