Blackwater knelt by her. ‘We could not!’ he exclaimed bitterly. ‘You cannot even guess what price this little one has paid tonight to speak this plainly to you. Her tongue has been sealed, and mine, too.’ He looked suddenly at Burrich. ‘Old soldier, if you have a thread of mercy left in you, will you fetch snow for me?’
‘I will,’ I said quietly, not knowing how much or how little Burrich could see. But he had already risen, taking up an empty cooking pot and going out of the tent. Blackwater rolled Elliania onto her belly and without ceremony, dragged up her tunic. The Prince gasped at what was revealed and I turned aside, sickened. The dragon-and serpent-tattoos on her back were inflamed, some oozing droplets of blood, others puffed and wet like freshly-burst burns. Peottre spoke through clenched teeth. ‘She went for a walk one day with Henja, her trusted handmaid. Two days later, Henja brought her stumbling home to us, with these marks on her back and the Pale Woman’s cruel bargain for us. Henja spoke it, for Elliania cannot say anything of what befell her without the dragons punishing her. Even the mention of the Pale Woman’s name does this to her.’
Burrich came back with his pot of snow. He set it down beside the prone woman and peered at her in horror, trying to discern what it was. ‘An infection of the skin?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘A poisoning of the soul,’ Peottre said bitterly. He lifted a handful of the clean snow Burrich had brought and smoothed it across Elliania’s back. She stirred slightly. Her eyelids fluttered. I thought she had hovered at the edge of consciousness, but she did not make a sound.
‘I free you from all agreements between us,’ Dutiful said quietly.
Peottre looked at him, stricken. But the Prince spoke on.
‘She will not be held by me to any promises she made under duress. Yet I will still kill your dragon,’ the Prince said quietly. ‘Tonight. And after we have won clean death for our people, when no one but myself is at risk, then I will do all within my power to finish the Pale Woman’s evil forever.’ He took a great breath, and as if fearing mockery, said, ‘And if any of us survive, then I will stand before Elliania and ask her if she will have me.’
Elliania spoke. Her voice was faint and she did not lift her head. ‘I will. Freely.’ The second utterance she added more strongly. I do not think Peottre or Chade approved, but they held their tongues. She motioned away the handful of snow that Peottre held. Instead, she took his hand and managed to sit up. She was still in pain. She looked as if she had taken a death wound.
Chade swung his gaze to me.
‘Then we act. Tonight.’ He looked around at each of us in turn, then almost visibly threw caution to the wind. ‘We dare not wait, for who among us knows how swift a dragon can fly? If we act together and swiftly, then perhaps the deed can be done and we can be gone from here before this Tintaglia even arrives.’ A flush, almost a blush, suffused the old man’s face suddenly. He could not keep down the small smile that came as he announced, ‘It is true. I have created a powder that has the force of a bolt of lightning. I brought some of it with me, though I do not have as much of it as I had hoped to apply to this task. Most of my supply remained behind on the beach. But perhaps what I have is enough. When cast into a fire in a sealed container, it explodes violently, like a lightning strike. If we were to place it down our tunnel and set it off, it would definitely blow up much ice. By itself, it may kill the dragon. Even if it doesn’t, it will give us swifter access to him.’
I heaved myself to my feet. ‘Have you a cloak I can use?’ I asked Burrich.
He ignored me, looking only at Chade. ‘Is this like what you did the night Shrewd died? Whatever you treated the candles with they did not behave as reliably as you had expected. What do we risk here?’
But Chade’s enthusiasm for an immediate trial of his wonderful powder had already grown beyond all caution. He was like a boy with an untested kite or boat. ‘This isn’t like that at all. That was a fine measurement, and it had to be done in more haste than I liked. Have you any idea what was involved in treating all those candles and the firewood supply for that evening, with no one the wiser? Nobody has ever appreciated that, no, nor any of the other wonders I’ve worked for the Farseer reign. But even so, this is different. It is on a much larger scale, and I will use as much of the powder as we think necessary. There will be no half measures this time.’
Burrich shook his head at me as I freed my arm from its binding and carefully threaded my left hand into my shirtsleeve. It was sore, but I could use it. Carefully. The prospect that the dragon might be slain tonight had fired me. A calm part of me knew that all I had was the Pale Woman’s word that she would release the Fool as soon as Icefyre was dead. It was scarcely reliable, and yet it was the only chance I had. And if Chade’s powder did slay the beast, but did not win the Fool’s release, then a second dose might very well open up a passageway into the realm under the ice. I kept that thought to myself for now.
‘What are the dangers?’ Dutiful asked, but Chade waved a dismissive hand.
‘I made extensive tests. I dug holes on the beach, built fires in the bottom of them, and when they were burning well, put in the box of powder and retreated. The explosion created a pit on the beach proportionate to the amount of powder in the sealed container. Why should ice and snow be any different? Oh, I’ll grant you that they are heavier and thicker, but that is why we’ll use a larger container of powder. Now as for the fire –’
‘Easily done,’ I said. My mind was already racing. I had found Chade’s cloak. I settled it around my shoulders. ‘A container of some kind, a large cooking pot. That kettle we use for stew and melting snow for water. That will do. Kindling to start a small fire in the bottom of it, and then the Fool’s burning oil from his tent. I will crawl down the tunnel, get the fire going, and then put in the powder and crawl out. Hastily.’ Chade and I grinned at one another. I was already infected with his enthusiasm.
Chade nodded, then knit his brows. ‘But the kettle’s not big enough to hold the whole cask. Ah, let me think, let me think. I have it. Several layers of cured leather under the kettle. When you have the fire going well in the kettle, tip it over onto the leather. It will contain it well enough for the short time it will take. Then thrust the cask into the fire. And come out of the tunnel. Quickly.’ He grinned at me as if it were all a fine jest. Peottre looked alarmed, the Narcheska confused. Burrich was scowling, his face gone black as a thundercloud. Prince Dutiful looked torn between a boy’s desire to make things happen and a monarch’s need to consider all decisions carefully. When he spoke, I knew which side had won.
‘I should do it, not Fi— Tom Badgerlock. His arm is all but useless. And I said I would do it. It’s my task.’
‘No. You’re the heir to the Farseer throne. We can’t risk you!’ Chade forbade it.