“Again,” she said, between weariness and amusement at his stubbornness. Again Dret stepped forward. Again the sword, again the slow, relentless push. I bowed my head as my friend screamed. If I could have died at that moment, I would have done so. It would have been easier than listening to his torture. Far easier than the terrible, soulless relief that it was not me.
When the echoes of his cries had faded, I did not look up. I could not bear to. I would say nothing more to her or to the Fool, nothing that might tempt him to speak and bring more punishment on himself. I watched the drops of sweat that dripped from my face fall onto the ice and vanish. Just as the Fool was vanishing into the dragon. Beloved. I tried to Skill the thought to him, to send him something of my strength, but it was a futile effort. My erratic magic, poisoned by elfbark, was gone again.
“I think I've convinced you,” the Pale Woman observed sweetly. “But I'll make it very clear. You choose now. Icefyre's life, or your Beloved's. I'll set you free, to be on your way to kill the dragon. Do my will, and I give your friend back to you. Or as much as is left of him. The more swiftly you go, the more of him there will be for you to reclaim. Delay, and he may be Forged completely. But not dead. I promise you that. Not dead. Do you understand me, FitzChivalry Farseer, little assassin-king?”
I nodded, not lifting my eyes to her. I got a fist in the short ribs for that, and managed to lift my head. “Yes,” I said softly. “I understand.” I feared to look at the Fool.
“Excellent.” Satisfaction burned in her voice. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling of her glassy chamber and smiled. She spoke aloud. “There, Icefyre. He understands. He will deliver you to your death.”
She looked back at my guards. “Turn him out from the north chimney. Let him go there.” Then, as if she could feel my confusion, she met my eyes and smiled kindly. “I don't know how you find your people again. I only know that you do. And that you kill the dragon. All is so clear before me now. There is no other path. Go, FitzChivalry. Do my will, and buy your Beloved back. Go.”
I called no word of farewell to the Fool as they marched me from the room. I feared he would somehow acknowledge my departure and earn another kiss from her stone dragon. They took me through the icy labyrinth of her lair at a quick march, and up an endless flight of stairs that eventually emerged into a sort of ice cave, a space between the rock and the glacier. Two held me, kneeling, as the third cleared the ice-blown snow and frost that blocked the entry. Then they stood me up and cast me out.