His eyes. Was it the firelight that danced and shifted in them, or was it the gold that swirled? I stared at him, wordless.

“I didn’t drink of it, of course.”

“Only because he couldn’t reach it,” Spark said. A very small smile was on her lips, a weary smile like a child’s after an exciting day. She did not try to sit up. “He dragged me there like a dog on a leash. He knew the way, but I followed him through the dark as he gripped my wrist. We came to an open place. I could see little in the dark, but it seemed a shabby part of the city, not near as grand as the boulevards we had earlier walked. And it smelled rank there. We walked past an immense pile of dung.”

“Dragon droppings?” Per asked in awe, as if that were the most fantastic part of their tale.

“I suppose so,” she said, and the friends shared the first smile that I had seen pass between them since she had come back through the pillar.

“It stank,” the Fool confirmed. “But the odd part was that it stank in a familiar way. Almost as if I should recall whose droppings those were and walk lightly in her territory.”

“Ugh,” said Lant, softly. I tended to agree with him.

“I tried to get the cover off the well.”

“Which involved a lot of tugging, then kicking and cursing it,” Spark confided to Per. He tried not to grin.


“True,” the Fool admitted reluctantly. “Then I smelled Skill, very near me. There was an immense bucket nearby. It had been set down unevenly, and in the corner of it there was Skill. It was little more than a smear, as if someone had wiped it clean but missed a spot. And I could smell it.”

“I could barely see it,” Spark said, sitting up a bit straighter, now a partner in the telling. “There was little moon, but it was so silver that it seemed to catch every bit of starlight. It was beautiful and yet terrifying. I wanted to move away from it, but he leaned on the edge of the bucket and reached as far down as he could and managed to get his hand into it.”

“Just barely, but I touched it.” He held up his gloved left hand and smiled as if the gods were pouring blessings upon him. “The sweetest agony you can imagine.” He turned his face toward me. “Fitz. It was like that moment. You know of what I speak. One and complete. I felt I was the music of the world, strong and sweeping. My throat closed and tears ran down my face and I could not move for joy.”

“And then the dragon came!” Spark continued. “She was red and even in the darkness of the night she shone red, so that I saw her almost before I heard her. But then she made a sound, like all the horns of Buckkeep blasting, but it was full of fury. She ran toward us. Dragons are not graceful when they run. They are terrifying, but not graceful at all. It was like watching a very angry red cow charge at us! I screamed and seized Lady Amber and dragged him away from the bucket. I could scarcely see where I was running, but run we did. Not that he was happy about it.”

“Lady Amber?” Lant asked, confused.

Spark caught her lip between her teeth. “So he—no, so she told me I must think of her, guised as we are.” She gave Per a look that asked for understanding and said softly, “Just as sometimes I am Ash.”

Lant opened his mouth but before he could speak, the Fool took up the tale. “I could sense the other dragon. The red dragon, I mean. Her roaring was full of threats and name-calling and absolute fury that we had penetrated the city and dared to come to the well of Silver. I could hear other dragons responding to her alarm, and then I heard a man’s voice raised in anger. He was urging the dragon on!”

Spark shook her head. “The dragons were so loud that I didn’t even hear the man, and I didn’t see him until he suddenly jumped out right in front of us. He had a sword, and he was wearing some kind of harness or armor. I dragged Lady Amber into a building. I just had time to slam a door closed behind us and then we ran in the dark, and we crashed into some stone stairs and we climbed those.”

I made a sound of despair. “Upstairs? With an enemy in pursuit, you ran where you could be cornered?”

Spark looked at me with irritation. “I’ve never been chased by a man with a sword, let alone a dragon. So, yes, we ran upstairs. It was awful there: Furniture had gone to rot, and it littered the floor. I kept stumbling and I could hear the man shouting as he searched downstairs, for like you he could not believe we would be so stupid as to run up the stairs. Then I found a window, and it looked out on an alley that I judged was too narrow for the dragon.”

The Fool took up the tale. “So we held hands and jumped out the window with little idea of what was below us. Oh, the terror of that jump for me! It was purest luck that we landed well. I still went to one knee, but Spark already had hold of me and was hauling me along. She flattened us against the wall and we went as silently as we could, staying to the narrow alley for quite a way. Once we came to where the buildings were wakeful, I could get my bearings and then I led the way. We could still hear the dragons trumpeting behind us, but it almost made me feel safer to know they were searching for us back by the well. I judged it was too late to seek an audience with Malta or to reach for Tintaglia, and that the pillar was our best way to escape, though I knew how much Spark dreaded it.



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