The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle #1)

“There was a big fire. A lot of it went down the grates. Did you see it?”

“Holy God, yes,” she said, her eyes wide. “It was all over, and all the shrews and raccoons were running everyway, trying to get out.”

“Did any of it get on you?” I asked. “Did you get burned?”

She shook her head, grinning a child’s sly smile. “Oh no. It couldn’t catch me.”

“Were you close to the fire?” I asked. “Did you breathe any of the smoke?”

“Why would I breathe smoke?” Auri looked at me as if I were simple. “The whole Underthing smells like cat piss now.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except by Downing and in the Belows.”

I relaxed a bit, but I saw Mola begin to fidget where she was sitting on the bench. “Auri, can my friend come over?”

Auri froze with a bean halfway to her mouth, then relaxed and bobbed her head once, sending her fine hair swirling around her.

I beckoned to Mola who began to walk slowly toward us. I was a little uneasy at how their meeting would go. It had taken me over a month of gentle coaxing to draw Auri out from the tunnels underneath the University where she lived. I worried that a bad reaction from Mola might startle her back underground where I would have no chance of finding her.

I gestured to where Mola stood. “This is my friend Mola.”

“Hello, Mola.” Auri looked up and smiled. “You have sunny hair like me. Would you like an apple?”

Mola’s expression was carefully blank. “Thank you, Auri. I’d like that.”

Auri jumped up and ran back to where the apple tree overhung the edge of the roof. Then ran back toward us, her hair flying behind her like a flag. She handed Mola an apple. “This one has a wish inside it,” she said matter-of-factly. “Make sure you know what you want before you take a bite.” That said, she settled back down and ate another bean, chewing primly.

Mola looked over the apple for a long moment before taking a bite.

Auri finished her meal quickly after that, and tied up the bag of salt. “Now play!” she said, excited. “Play!”

Smiling, I brought out my lute and brushed my hands over the strings. Thankfully my injured thumb was on my chording hand, where it would be a relatively minor inconvenience.

I looked at Mola as I tuned the strings. “You can go if you like,” I told her. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally serenade you.”

“Oh you musn’t go.” Auri turned to Mola, her expression deathly serious. “His voice is like a thunderstorm, and his hands know every secret hidden deep beneath the cool, dark earth.”

Mola’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I suppose I could stay for that.”

So I played for both of them, while overhead the stars continued in their measured turning.



“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Mola asked me as we made our way across the rooftops.

“It didn’t seem like anyone’s business,” I said. “If she wanted people to know she was there, I imagine she’d tell them herself.”

“You know what I mean,” Mola said, irritated.

“I know what you mean,” I sighed. “But what good would come of it? She’s happy where she is.”

“Happy?” Mola sounded incredulous. “She’s ragged and half-starved. She needs help. Food and clothes.”

“I bring her food,” I said. “And I’ll bring her clothes too, as soon…” I hesitated, not wanting to admit my abject poverty, at least not in so many words. “As soon as I can manage it.”

“Why wait? If you just told someone…”

“Right,” I said sarcastically. “I’m sure Jamison would rush out here with a box of chocolates and a featherbed if he knew there was a starveling half-cracked student living under his University. They’d crock her and you know it.”

“Not necessarily…” She didn’t even bother finishing, knowing what I’d said was true.

“Mola, if people come looking for her, she’ll just rabbit down into the tunnels. They’ll scare her away and I’ll lose what chance I have to help her.”

Mola looked down at me, her arms folded across her chest. “Fine. For now. But you’ll have to bring me back here later. I’ll bring her some of my clothes. They’ll be too big for her, but they’ll be better than what she has.”

I shook my head. “It won’t work. I brought her a secondhand dress a couple span ago. She says wearing someone else’s clothes is filthy.”

Mola looked puzzled. “She didn’t look Cealdish. Not even a little.”

“Maybe she was just raised that way.”

“Do you feel any better?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“You’re shaking.” She stretched out a hand. “Here, lean on me.”

Pulling my new cloak close around me, I took her arm and made my slow way back to Anker’s.





CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE


Wind or Women’s Fancy




OVER THE NEXT TWO span my new cloak kept me warm on my occasional walks to Imre, where I was consistently unsuccessful in finding Denna. I always had some reason to cross the river: borrowing a book from Devi, meeting Threpe for lunch, playing at the Eolian. But Denna was the real reason.

Kilvin sold the rest of my emitters, and my mood improved as my burns healed. I had money to spare for luxuries such as soap and a second shirt to replace the one I’d lost. Today I had gone to Imre for some bassal filings I needed for my current project: a large sympathy lamp using two emitters I’d saved for myself. I hoped to turn a tidy profit.

It may seem odd that I was constantly buying materials for my artificing over the river, but the truth was merchants near the University frequently took advantage of the students’ laziness and raised their prices. It was worth the walk for me if I could save a couple of pennies.

After I finished my errand I headed to the Eolian. Deoch was at his usual post, leaning against the doorway. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for your girl,” he said.

Irritated at how transparent I must seem, I muttered, “She’s not my girl.”

Deoch rolled his eyes. “Fine. The girl. Denna, Dianne, Dyanae…whatever she’s calling herself these days. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her. I even asked around a little, nobody’s seen her in a full span. That means she’s probably left town. It’s her way. She does it at the drop of a hat.”

I tried not to let my disappointment show. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” I said. “But thanks all the same.”

“I wasn’t asking entirely on your account,” Deoch admitted. “I’ve a fondness for her myself.”

“Do you now?” I said as neutrally as I could manage.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not any sort of competition.” He gave a crooked smile. “Not this time around at any rate. I might not be one of you University folk, but I can see the moon on a clear night. I’m smart enough not to stick my hand in the same fire twice.”

I struggled to get my expression back under control, more than slightly embarrassed. I don’t usually let my emotions go parading around on my face. “So you and Denna…”

Patrick Rothfuss's books