I think I’ve found your dragon, Dutiful. Make an excuse to come on deck and look toward the shore. It’s being exposed as the tide retreats. There’s a stone dragon here, in the tide zone.
My Skilling had not been confined to Dutiful. It reached Chade, as well. In a short time, Dutiful and the rest of the dinner gathering came out onto the deck. They stared toward shore, but I doubted they could see the creature as clearly as I did, for the lantern light on the ship now silhouetted it for me. And in that extra light, and with the retreat of the waves, I saw my error. What had appeared to be a dragon were actually several huge blocks of stone, set close together but not quite touching one another. I saw his head on his front paws, his neck and shoulders, three segments of back and hind legs, and then a number of dwindling sections of tail. Fused together, they would have formed a dragon. Exposed on the wet sand, they reminded me of a child’s puzzle blocks.
Is this our dragon? Did she want the stone head taken back to her home hearth? I asked. Linked to Dutiful, I saw him point and ask a similar question of Peottre. But it was Arkon Bloodblade who laughed and shook his head. My link with Dutiful conveyed Bloodblade’s answer as clearly as if I stood on the deck beside them. “No, no, what you see there was one of the Pale Woman’s follies. She had her slaves quarrying stone here. She insisted that only the black stone from this island could be ballast for her white ships. It looks as if some slaves were put to carving it, too. For what, we’ll probably never—”
“It’s late.” Peottre’s voice cut in abruptly. “And you sail with the morning tide, brother. Let us have one more good night of sleep on board, in beds, before we face the hardship of the island tomorrow. I recommend an early bed for you, too, Prince Dutiful. Tomorrow we must start early on the trail to where the true dragon is said to await us. It will be an arduous trip. Rest is wisest for all of us.”
“A wise suggestion from a wise head. I’ll wish you good luck and good night, then.” Arkon acceded quickly to Peottre’s suggestion.
Well. That was neatly turned, Chade observed as the men dispersed from the deck. Arkon must have realized he was telling tales that Peottre didn’t wish shared. See what else you can discover there, Fitz.
How did the Fool react to that tale? I demanded of him.
I really didn’t notice. Chade’s reply was brusque.
How did the Fool get here? Why is he here? Why are you keeping him where I can’t talk to him? I could no longer suppress the question, nor completely conceal my annoyance that they had not yet shared the answers with me.
Oh, don’t sulk. Chade dismissed my irritation. He’s told us little enough. You know how he is. Let it ride until tomorrow, Fitz, when we’re all on shore together and you can quiz him as much as you wish. Doubtless he’ll be more open with you than he is with us. As to why I’ve kept him close to us, it’s more to keep him away from the Hetgurd warriors than from you. He’s already revealed that he will do all he can to persuade us not to slay the dragon. And he’s been sufficiently puzzling, charming, and mysterious to intrigue Peottre and Bloodblade, but I think the Narcheska still fears him. She does not meet his eyes.
The Prince broke in on Chade’s thoughts. Initially the Hetgurd men thought he was some kind of a cheat on our part, a secret ally we’d smuggled in. When we pointed out that we had no way of knowing the terms that the Hetgurd would set for us, they admitted that didn’t seem likely.
How did the Narcheska and Peottre react to his claim that he would help the dragon? I demanded of them both.
Chade’s thoughts seemed well considered. They reacted strangely. I expected that Peottre and the Narcheska would resent him, but Peottre seems relieved, almost glad to see him here. As for me, I am grateful he said no more than he did. And I’m asking you to keep any discussions you have with him out of earshot of Peottre or the Narcheska. If they discover how long you have been friends, they may well think that you are opposed to our quest as well.
There was a warning for me in Chade’s thought, a slight testing of my loyalty. I ignored it. I’ll wait and talk to him privately, I told Chade.
Yes. You will. His words fell between confirmation and command.
The folk on the ship were already dispersing toward their beds. I glanced back at our camp. It looked as if almost everyone had already gone to bed. The fire had burned low. I hadn’t even eaten my share of the evening rations. Hot porridge would probably seem a treat before this quest was over, but for now it did not entice me. The sea had retreated enough now that I could walk around the entire dragon without getting more than ankle-wet. I knew I’d regret my soggy shoes in the morning, but if there was something to discover about this stone creature, now was my best opportunity. No Skill coterie had carved this being, but the minions of the Pale Woman. I thought I knew why. I had long suspected that Regal and Skillmaster Galen had sold off portions of the Skill library. Had Kebal Rawbread, the war leader of the Outislanders during the Red Ship War, come to possess them? Had he and his ally, the Pale Woman, attempted to create dragons of their own to battle our Six Duchies? I was almost certain it was so.
I came close to the gleaming wet stone, noticing that neither seaweed nor barnacles clung to it. It was as clean and black as the day it had been shaped. Gingerly, I set a hand to it. It was cold, wet, and hard, and it hummed with Wit under my touch. Just as the drowsing stone dragons had. And yet it was different. I could not decide how until I touched the adjacent block. It too harbored that hidden seething of life. And yet the two were different things. Cautiously, fearing some arcane trap, I ventured toward them with my Skill. There was nothing there. I ran my hand along the wet surface where neither seaweed nor barnacle clung. And then there was suddenly something, a confusion of voices lifted in agitation, and then nothing again.