Fool's Fate

“I think not,” I said. Something in Chade's easy dismissal warned me that the old man did not want us to speak of this but I was willing to sacrifice part of my secret to discover his. “I think the dragon is real. Moreover, I think we have heard of her before. Tintaglia, the Bingtown dragon. The one that masked boy spoke of.”



“Selden Vestrit.” Dutiful supplied his name quietly. “Can dragons Skill, then? Why would she demand to know what we knew of a black dragon? Does she mean Icefyre?”



“Almost certainly she does. But that is the only one of your questions that I can answer.” I turned reluctantly to face Chade's scowl. “She has touched my dreams before, with the same demand. That I tell her what I knew of a black dragon and an island. She knows of our quest, most likely from the Bingtown contingent that came to invite us so cordially to their war with Chalced. But I think that she only knows as much as they did. That there is a dragon trapped in ice, and that Dutiful goes to slay him.”



Chade made a sound almost like a growl. “Then she'll know the name of the island as well. Aslevjal. It is only a matter of time before she discovers where that is. The Bingtown Traders are famous for doing just that: trading. If they want a chart that shows the way to Aslevjal, they'll obtain one.”



I spread my hands, displaying a calm I didn't feel. “There is nothing we can do about that, Chade. We'll have to deal with whatever develops.”



He pushed back his chair. “Well, I could deal with it better if I knew enough to expect it,” he said. His voice rose as he did. He stalked to the window and stared out over the sea. Then he turned his head to glare at me over his shoulder. “What else have you not told me?”



Had we been alone then, I might have told him about how the dragon had threatened Nettle and how she had dismissed the creature. But I did not wish to speak of my daughter in Dutiful's presence, so I only shook my head. He turned back to gaze out over the sea.



“So we may have another enemy to face, besides the cold and ice of Aslevjal. Well. At least tell me how big is this creature? How strong?”



“I don't know. I've only seen her in dreams, and in my dreams, she shifted her size. I don't think we can be sure of anything she has shown us in dreams.”



“Oh, well, that's useful,” Chade replied, discouraged. He came back to the table and dropped into his chair. “Did you sense anything of this dragon last night?” he suddenly asked me.



“No. I didn't.”



“But you did Skill-walk.”



“Briefly.” I'd visited Nettle. I wasn't going to discuss that here. He didn't seem to notice my reticence.



“I did neither. Despite my best efforts.” His voice was as anguished as an injured child's. I met his eyes and saw, not just frustration there, but pain. He looked at me as if I had excluded him from some precious secret or wonderful adventure.



“Chade. It will come in time. Sometimes I think you try too hard.” I spoke the words, but I wasn't sure of them. Yet I could not bring myself to say what I secretly suspected: that he had come to these lessons too late, and would never master the magic so long denied him.



“So you keep saying,” he said hollowly.



And there seemed nothing to reply to that. For the remainder of our session, we worked through several exercises from one of the scrolls, but with limited success. Chade's discouragement seemed to have damped all his ability that day. With hands linked, he could receive the images and words I sent him, but when we separated and moved to different parts of the room, I could not reach him, nor could he touch minds with Dutiful or Thick. His growing frustration disrupted all of us. When Dutiful and Thick departed to their day's tasks, we had not only made no progress, but had failed to equal the previous day's level of Skill.



“Another day spent, and we are no closer to having a working coterie,” Chade observed bitterly to me when we were alone in the room. He walked over to the sideboard and poured brandy for himself. When he gestured questioningly at me, I shook my head.



“No, thank you. I've not even broken my fast yet.”



“Nor I.”



“Chade, you look exhausted. I think an hour or two of rest and a solid meal would do you better than brandy.”



“Find me two empty hours in my day, and I'll be happy to sleep,” he offered without rancor. Chade walked to the window with his cup and gazed out over the water. “It all closes in on me, Fitz. We must have this alliance with the Out Islands. With Chalced and Bingtown warring, our trade to the south has dwindled to a trickle. If Chalced defeats Bingtown, as it well may, it will next turn its swords against us. We must ally with the Out Islands before Chalced does.