Chade berated me for being an idiot when we all discovered I had left the powder pot behind when I had fled the tunnel. He put two men to work reopening the tunnel, and then completely confused the suspicious Wit coterie by putting them to work digging deep, narrow holes alongside the dragon. “We'll put smaller loads of powder along the edge of that crack he's made. It won't be enough to harm him, just enough to break the ice up so we can haul it away in larger chunks. Fitz, I'll need you with me to help me measure and package the powder. Dutiful, you too, and bring Longwick. We'll need more vessels suitable for holding the fires. It will be tricky to set them off, but I'm convinced that near-simultaneous blasts will serve us best.”

Chade was in his element, organizing and improvising. He burned with a fierce joy at putting his thoughts into action. I realized then that in his own way, he would have been a fine soldier and strategist, much as Verity had been. The times in my life when he had seemed most alive had been when he had finally flung aside all constraints to transform his thoughts into deeds.

Burrich had come with us when we returned to Chade's tent, for he could be of little help with the digging. It was sad to know that he realized that. He reminded me somewhat of an old dog that knows he can no longer keep up with the pack on the scent, and so holds his place at his master's stirrup in faith that he will be there for the kill. I glanced up at him as he sat attentively on Chade's pallet. Chade was opening another small cask of his powder. I knelt on the floor, a clean hide stretched out before me, measuring powder into piles that were approximately the same size as the example that Chade had heaped for me. The consistency of the powder troubled me; it was not a uniform color, and some seemed ground finer than the rest, but Chade had already shrugged aside my questions. “In time I will perfect it. But for now, it will work, and that is all that counts, boy. Where is the Prince? I sent him to scavenge tight containers from any of the tents. He should be back by now. And Longwick, with the kettles. It's going to be a mix-and-match that we must do, and the sooner we begin, the better.”

“I'm sure he'll be here soon,” I said, and then to Burrich, “You're very quiet. Is it because you came here to kill the dragon, and now we all struggle to save it?”

He knit his dark brows at me. “You thought I came here to slay a dragon?” He gave a snort of amazement and then shook his head. “I didn't believe in this dragon. I thought it a girl's bad dream, and so it was easy for me to assure Nettle that I'd protect her from it. I took her to Buckkeep and there I learned that there might be some vestige of a dragon here. But when I came here, I came to bring you home, you and Swift. Because, regardless of what it might cost you, or me, that is where you belong.” He gave a sudden sigh. “I've always been a simple man, Fitz, seeking simple answers to my problems. And here I am, trying to see how to untangle the mess you and I have made of things, and now to protect Nettle from a dragon that knows her name and how to talk sense to Swift about Beast Magic. I'd thought that you had died of the Wit, you know. The Queen tried to give me what she knew of that tale, how a Forged One came to be wearing a shirt I'd sewn for you, with King Shrewd's pin still in the collar . . . When I think of the anguish I felt as I buried that wretch . . .”

But his thoughts were interrupted abruptly by Dutiful bursting into the tent. “They've gone! I can't find them anywhere!”

“Containers to put the powder in?” Chade demanded single-mindedly. “What, all gone?”

“No! The Narcheska and Peottre! They are gone, their beds left empty. I do not think they returned to them after we spoke last night. I think they left then and if they did—”

“Then there is only one place they could have gone.” Despite Chade's earlier assurances that it didn't matter, he was now scowling and poking at the piles of more finely ground powder. “They went to the Pale Woman. And told her that Fitz had come back to us, and that we now knew the true stakes of the game.” He suddenly scowled. “And we spoke of Web's gull in front of them, and Tintaglia coming here. They will have told her. She will now know of our thoughts of her, and what our vulnerabilities are. The Pale Woman will know that if she wishes to move against us, she must act swiftly. Our only recourse is to be even swifter than she is. We must get that dragon out of the ice.”

“But why would Elliania and Peottre do that? Why would they turn on us, when they knew I was willing to kill the dragon for them?” The Prince was agonized.

“I don't know.” Chade was implacable. “But it's safest for us to assume treachery, to assume that everything we spoke of last night is now being told to the Pale Woman. And we must now see how that leaves us vulnerable.”




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