Both Riddle and Nettle kept silent. I stood still, not sure what was expected of me. Then it came to me. They meant to leave me behind. ‘I will not be left. I will ride my own horse, and Per will come with me.’
‘I will fetch my map,’ Lady Kettricken said, as if that were a reply. She stood slowly and the look in her blue eyes was cold and hard. She left the room, walking carefully upright.
‘I must gather my things, and find Per,’ I said.
But Nettle shook her head slowly. She looked very tired. ‘Bee, you need to be sensible. So does Lady Kettricken. And in a few moments, when she is calmer, I will speak to her again. There is no reason to risk her or you on a journey through the Skill-pillars. I will go myself. I will leave Hope with Riddle, and I will take a picked coterie with me. If Father is there, if this is not a terrible illusion you have, then we will bring him back here to Buckkeep Castle where he can be treated and cured. Queen Elliania has brought in two new healers, one from her OutIslands and one who has trained with the priests of Sa in Jamaillia. They both bring new ideas, new herbs and according to our healers, new successes.
‘But I will not risk you in the Skill-pillars. You have already been endangered too often in your short life. It’s time to be safe and stay here and be a child while you still can. Do you understand clearly what I am telling you? I am not taking you through the Skill-pillars with me.’
I met her gaze. ‘I understand,’ I said quietly.
‘Repeat it.’
I drew a frustrated breath. ‘You will not be taking me to Da in the quarry through the Skill-pillars with you. Even though he is probably dying.’
She folded her lips and Riddle rolled his eyes at me. Then, ‘Exactly,’ she said. She sighed. ‘Now off with you. Go about your regular duties and please, speak of this to no one. I myself will inform King Dutiful. Oh, and as to what we were trying to discuss earlier? Of course you may visit Thick, but at a proper time of day and with one of his attendants there, to exercise the restraint that Thick has been lacking. I will arrange that today. You must be careful of him. He is prone to be excitable and sometimes difficult. And the discussion we were to have about your Skill-training must wait until I return. We may need to damp your ability until you are able to exercise more caution with it.’
I had not found him difficult. I did not say that. Instead I curtseyed to my sister. As I turned, she spoke again. ‘Bee, I know you think me strict and perhaps cold. But we are sisters, and I so nearly lost you. You cannot imagine how helpless I felt, all through my pregnancy. How I wondered if my baby would ever know you. How Riddle tormented himself that he had not remained there with you. We have you back. We have lost our father. I will not lose you.’
I bobbed a nod to that, turned, and quietly left the chamber. I shut the door behind me. Then I ran as swiftly as I could through the corridors. First, to find Beloved. He could get us through a Skill-pillar. And he owed me some answers. How was it he had told me my father was dead, and now I learned he was not dead, but dying? My anger with him burned hotter, but I knew I would need him. Then I’d find Per. Nettle had not said I could not go, only that she would not take me.
I was thankful I was still dressed for riding. Trousers were much better for hiking than my ridiculous skirts. My mind raced. Could Beloved pretend that we were going on a picnic and procure food for us? Per could get horses from the stable. We’d need an extra one to bring my father home.
You go to say goodbye, not to bring him home. Food and bedding and something for a shelter are what you should take him. It will help him sustain his life long enough to finish his task.
I am not going to accept his death. Not again.
A page hurried past me, then turned and came back to me. ‘Are you well, Lady Bee?’
I realized that tears were running down my face and dripping from my chin. I wiped them hastily. ‘Dust in my eyes from my ride. Thank you for your concern. Have you seen Lord Chance this morning?’
‘I saw him ascending the stairs to the Queen’s Garden, the one on the rooftop of the—’
‘Thank you. I know where that is.’
I changed direction and hurried away from him. But in two steps he followed me and seized me by the arm. I spun on him in a fury, shocked to be handled so. But the page suddenly was Spark. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘I must see Lord Chance. Now.’
She folded her lips. ‘Change your expression,’ she hissed at me. ‘Anyone who sees you will know you are defiant. Smile as if we are going on a pleasant errand, and hurry, but do not run. I will be right behind you.’
I recovered from my shock. I wiped my face on my sleeve and stitched a smile onto my mouth. I did as she suggested. The corridors had never seemed so long. I hated the steep climb up the tower steps. Twice I stopped to breathe. I hoped he was still there. The outer door to the tower rooftop was heavy, built to withstand both the winds and the heavy snows of winter. Spark had her picks out. I flashed my key at her, and she exclaimed in surprise. Together we shoved the door open and stepped out into a pleasant day.
High, thin clouds were scraped across a blue sky. Up here, the wind was cooler. I did not immediately see Lord Chance. The large pots full of blooming plants and statues seemed too placid and calm a place for my boiling thoughts. I followed the tiled walkway and at the end saw Beloved standing with his back toward me. He was looking landward.
‘Lord Chance!’ I hailed him.
He turned to me and a hesitant smile dawned. ‘Well. I cannot recall that you have ever sought my company before, Bee. Thrice welcome!’ His voice was full of warmth and hope. Then he saw Spark behind me and his expression became one of alarm. ‘What has happened?’
I had thought I could be calm. I could not. ‘How could you tell me my father was dead, how could you leave him? How could you leave him? How could you not go back for him?’
‘Bee!’ Spark rebuked me, but I ignored her.
My words tore the smile from Beloved’s face. He looked ill and beaten. He tried for a breath, failed, and tried again. ‘Bee, Fitz is dead. You yourself said you felt that he was gone.’ He clutched his gloved hand in his bared one. ‘I felt that link break. He died. I felt it.’ His face was full of misery and shock. ‘He left me,’ he said forlornly, and my fury soared.
‘He’s not dead!’ I bit off every word. ‘Nighteyes says he is at the quarry, dying, riddled with parasites, just as the pale messenger died. It’s a horrible way to go. You know it. They call it the Traitor’s Death. Delivered by a dart. And you left him to it.’
Spark gasped. ‘They shot darts at us. Before the explosion. Bee sent them running and he brushed a dart from his jerkin …’