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Golden Fool


With difficulty I disentangled myself from Thick’s song. I wondered at how so simple a mind could conceive of so convoluted and intricate a music. And in the next moment, I grasped an understanding of him. This embroidery of music was the framework of his thoughts and world. It was what he paid attention to, putting each sound he heard into its proper place in the vast scheme of sound. Little wonder, then, that he had so little thought or focus to spare for the petty concerns of the world Chade and I perceived. How much consideration did I give to the sound of water trickling or the ringing of a blade against a sharpening stone?

I came to myself sitting in Verity’s chair. I felt as if my mind were a sponge that had been dipped into a water of music. I had to let Thick’s song drain away from me before I could recall my own thoughts and intents. After a time, I once more drew breath into my lungs, settled my mind, and reached out.

This time I made sure I only brushed against the edges of his music. I hesitated there, trying to decide how to make him aware of me without startling him. As gently as I could, I made contact. Thick?

I felt the impact of his fear and anger like a fist in the belly. It was like poking a sleeping cat. He fled, but not before he had clawed me. Shaken, I opened my eyes to the tower’s view of rolling waves. Even so, it was hard to settle myself into my body again and persuade myself I belonged there. Nausea roiled through me. Well, that first effort had gone well, I thought sourly. I sat for a time in discouragement. Dutiful was not coming and Thick was not going to accept any sort of training from me. To that linked chain of defeat, I added the thought that I had heard nothing from Hap since I had bid him make his own peace with his master. I marveled at my knack for sowing disillusion and discontent among those I most cherished.

One more effort, I promised myself. Then I would return to my dismal chamber, and from thence announce to Lord Golden that his lowly servant was taking the day off. I’d go down to Buckkeep Town and make some sort of contact with Hap. I took out the red whistle and considered it. The Fool had outdone himself. It was much fancier than any pennywhistle I’d ever seen before. It was decorated with tiny birds. I set it to my lips and tried a few notes on it. When I was a youth, Patience had tried to teach me to play several musical instruments. I’d had little success with any of them. Still, I could pick out the notes of a simple child’s song. I played it several times, trying in vain to smooth out the roughness. Then I leaned back, the whistle still set to my lips. As I played, I reached out to Thick, trying to send him only the piping notes of the whistle rather than any thoughts or hints of my presence. It broke in on his own music, and for a time we jangled discordantly together. Then his notes died away as he focused on mine.

What’s that?

The thought was not intended for me: He merely reached out to see where the sound was coming from. I tried to make the thought I sent him very delicate. I did not stop playing as I told him, It’s a red whistle. On a green string. It’s yours, if you want to come and get it.

A long moment of guarded thought. Then, Where?

That gave me a moment of thought. There was a guard on duty at the base of the Skill tower steps. I couldn’t tell Thick to come that way. He’d be turned back. Chade had trusted him with at least some of the labyrinth passage of the keep. I knew I should consult Chade before I revealed more to him, but this was too good of an opportunity to miss. I wanted to see if I could guide Thick through the passages via our mind link. Not only would it test the current limits of our ability to Skill to one another, but it would give me an insight into just what he was capable of. I refused to spend too much time in hesitation. Come to me this way. I showed him a mental image of Chade’s tower room. Then I showed him, step by step, the passages he must use to come to the Skill tower. I did not rush through them, but neither did I linger. I finished with If you get lost, reach out to me. I will help you.

Then I gently broke the link between us. I leaned back in the chair, and considered the whistle in my hand. I hoped it would be bait enough. I set it down on the table, and beside it I placed the figurine of a woman. It was the one the Prince had found on the beach that the Skill stones had taken us to. Without any clear idea why, I had brought it from Chade’s tower, to give it back to the Prince. With a sudden lurch of my heart, I thought of the feathers I had found on the same beach. I had never shared that discovery with the Fool. The time had never seemed right. Now I wondered if I ever would. I pushed the thought from my mind. I had to focus on what I did now.

I wiped the sweat from my brow. I found I was a bit shaky when I stood. This morning’s exercise was more Skill than I had used in quite some time. The headache was proportionately larger, rather too big for my skull. If I’d had a kettle, cup, water, and elfbark, I probably would have indulged. Instead I had to settle for pouring myself a measure of brandy and leaning out the window for a time.
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