“If you’re hungry, it’s time for your meal. I’ve eaten too much already. And possibly drunk more than I should have as well.”
His response shocked me. “Do you truly have another daughter beside Nettle?”
“I do.” I sat down in my chair and pulled one of the shoes off. “Her name is Bee. And she is nine years old now.”
“Truly?”
“Fool, what purpose could I have for lying to you?” He made no answer to that. I reached down and unfastened the second shoe. I pulled it free and put my foot flat on the floor. My left calf cramped abruptly and I exclaimed in pain and bent to rub it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in some alarm.
“Ridiculous shoes, courtesy of Chade. Tall heels and pointed tips curling up at the toes. You’d laugh if you could see them. Oh, and the jacket has a skirt that goes nearly to my knees. And buttons shaped like little blue flowers. And the hat is like a floppy sack. Not to mention the curly wig.”
A small smile quirked his mouth. Then he said gravely, “You’ve no idea how much I’d love to see it all.”
“Fool, it’s not idle curiosity that makes me ask about your eyes. If I knew what was done to you, it might help me undo it.”
Silence. I removed my hat and set it on the table. Standing, I began to unbutton the jacket. It was just slightly too tight in the shoulders and suddenly I could not endure how it bound me. I gave a sigh of relief, draped it on the chair back, and sat down. The Fool had picked up the hat. His hands explored it. Then he set it, wig and all, upon his head. With apparent ease, he twitched the hair into place and then effortlessly arranged the hat into an artful slouch.
“It looks far better on you than it did on me.”
“Fashion travels. I had a hat almost like this. Years ago.”
I waited.
He sighed heavily. “What have I told you and what haven’t I? Fitz, in my darkness, my mind slips around until I scarcely trust myself at all anymore.”
“You’ve told me very little.”
“Have I? Perhaps you know very little, but I assure you that night after night, in my cell, I spoke with you at length and in detail.” A wry twist of his mouth. He lifted the hat and set it on the table, where it crouched on its wig like a small animal. “Each time you ask me a question, it surprises me. For I feel that you were so often with me.” He shook his head, then leaned back suddenly in his chair and for a time appeared to stare at the ceiling. He spoke into that darkness. “Prilkop and I left Aslevjal. You know that. We journeyed to Buckkeep. What you may never have guessed is that we used the Skill-pillars to do so. Prilkop spoke of having learned it from his Catalyst, and I, I had my silvered fingertips from when I had touched Verity. And so we came to Buckkeep and I could not resist the temptation to see you one last time, to have yet another final farewell.” He snorted at his own foolishness. “Fate cheated us both of that. We lingered for a time but Prilkop was anxious to be on his way. Ten days he allowed me, for as you recall I was still very weak, and he judged it dangerous to use the pillars too frequently. But after ten days he began to chafe to be on our way again. Nightly he urged me to leave, pointing out what I knew: that together you and I had already worked the change that was my mission. Our time together was done, and long past done. Lingering near you would only provoke other changes in the world, changes that might be far less desirable. And so he persuaded me. But not completely. I knew it was dangerous, I knew it was self-indulgent even as I carved it. The three of us together, as we once had been. You, Nighteyes, and me. I shaped it from the Skill-stone and I pressed my farewell into it. Then I left my gift for you, knowing well that when you touched it, I would be aware of you.”
I was startled. “You were?”
“I told you. I have never been wise.”
“But I felt nothing of you. Well, there was the message, of course.” I felt cheated by him. He had known that I was alive and well, but had kept his own situation concealed from me.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. After a moment, he continued. “We used the pillars again when we left Buckkeep. It was like a child’s game. We jumped from one standing stone to the next. Always he made us wait between our journeys. It was … disorienting. It still makes me queasy to think of it. He knew the danger of what we did. On one of our leaps … we traveled to an abandoned city.” He halted, then spoke again quietly. “I hadn’t been there before. But there was a tall tower in the middle of it, and when I climbed those stairs, I found the map. And the broken window and the fingerprints in the soot from the fire.” He paused. “I am sure it was the map-tower you visited once.”