I donned my fine Buck-blue cloak and again we rode forth, with me at the head of a troop of guards. The innkeeper and his family saw us off with cheers, and sweet cakes of oats and dried fruit for our day’s journey. We pushed our horses, for I thought to be kind to my guard. If we reached the Skill-stone by afternoon, there was a possibility they could return to an inn for the night instead of having to sleep out in the open. I had no such prospect before me. I knew that once I had passed through that stone I would encounter winter in the Mountains. I only hoped I would not step out into a blasting storm.
My plan from there was clear. Camp for three nights in the ridiculously bulky tent I’d been gifted with. I’d subsist on marching rations for that necessary interval between uses of a Skill-pillar. From there, Chade’s chart showed me it was but a Skill-step through the pillar to Kelsingra. In that city, I would seek passage down the Rain Wild River and on to Bingtown and then Jamaillia. In Jamaillia, I was sure to find a ship bound for the Spice Isles. Once there, I’d trust to my luck and Kettricken’s map to find my way to Clerres. And blood.
I almost rode past the turn. Riddle was the one who pointed it out. The tracks we had made in the snowy field were smoothed to dimples and pocks in the snow. It seemed years since I had last ridden this way. Years since Bee had passed beyond my reach forever. Years, and a moment ago. The closer we drew to the stone, the more impatient I was to be gone. We entered the forest and followed the fading tracks. When we came to the place where Dwalia and her luriks had camped, Foxglove halted our troops and gave the order for them to set up a camp.
“No need.” I spoke quietly to her. “I’m not going to make this a dramatic moment, Foxglove. I’m going to walk to that rock, touch it, and be gone. And you will turn our guards around and head back toward an inn. I hope that tonight you will sleep in warmth and comfort, and perhaps hoist a tankard to wish me good luck.” I cleared my throat and added quietly, “Inside my chamber, there is a parcel addressed to you. Within it, there are messages for folk that are dear to me. If a year passes with no word from me, then you will know it is time to deliver them.”
She stared at me, then gave a stiff nod.
I dismounted, and she shouted to our guards to hold off on that order. She dismounted, handed her horse to her granddaughter, and followed me. Riddle came after us, and Lant. I glanced back, thinking I would see Perseverance shadowing us, but the boy had vanished. From somewhere, the crow squawked. They’d be together. Just as well.
In the gloom under the leaning evergreens, the winter afternoon already seemed like evening. The shadowed snow and dark trunks were shaded from black to palest gray. In that dimness, it took me a moment to pick out the Skill-stone gripped in the roots and leaning trunk of an evergreen. I approached it without reluctance. Nettle’s Skill-users had traveled to the Mountains via this stone and returned days later without incident. It was as safe to use as any Skill-portal, I told myself. I pushed from my memory what had happened the last time I had traveled by stone. I sealed from my heart that this was the very stone that had devoured Bee and those who had taken her.
Only a light snow had fallen since last I had been here, and little of it had penetrated the interweaving needled branches overhead. With a gloved hand, I brushed snow and fallen needles from the face of the stone. I had my sword at my side, a pack on my back, and a large carry-bag on my shoulder. Everything I thought I needed was in the pack and everything the others had insisted I take was in the carry-bag. I had privately resolved I would not carry it for long.
“So,” I said to Riddle. He pulled off his glove as I did mine, and we clasped wrists. Our eyes met briefly and then we both looked aside.
“Travel well,” he said to me, and “I shall try,” I replied. His grip tightened on my wrist and I returned that pressure. Nettle, you’ve chosen well, I Skilled to her. Through my eyes, I showed her the man she had chosen. Care for his heart. It’s a true one. And then I swiftly set my walls to hold in all my fears and worries.
I bade farewell likewise to Foxglove and to Lant. The old captain met my gaze with her steely one and bade me “Uphold the honor of the Farseers.” Lant’s hand was sweaty as he gripped my wrist, and he seemed to tremble.
“You’ll do fine,” I told him quietly. “Take care of that old man for me. Blame it on me that I would not let you come.”
He hesitated. “I’ll do my best to live up to his expectations,” he replied.
I returned him a rueful grin for that. “Best of luck with that!” I wished him, and he managed a shaky laugh.
They were watching me. I held up a hand. I closed my eyes, though I did not need to. Through the stone, I said to Nettle and Dutiful. I could feel Thick watching us drowsily. I’ll be sending Riddle right back to you. He should be home by tomorrow evening.
And you will Skill to us as soon as you emerge from the stone?
I already promised I would. I will not leave you worrying. I expect to be told as soon as the child is born.
And I already promised that to you. Go carefully, Da.
I love you all. And then, because those words sounded too much like a final farewell I added, Tell the Fool not to be too angry with me. Take care of him until I return.