“Close it, please,” I said, and turned away from his treasured book, feeling ill. He ignored me, turning a page to yet another drawing. This was of a hand, skin and muscle pulled aside and pinned to show the bone and hinges.
“I studied this before I tried to repair my hands. I do not think his drawings are precisely correct, and yet I feel they were helpful to me. Who would have imagined there were so many individual bones in a man’s hands and fingers?” Then he finally glanced up and, becoming aware of my discomfort, closed the tome. “When you are better recovered, I recommend you study this, Fitz. I think perhaps every Skilled one should.”
“Even Thick?” I asked wryly.
He surprised me by lifting a shoulder. “It would not hurt to show it to him. Sometimes he is capable of very fixed thought, Fitz. Who knows how much he retains in that misshapen skull?”
This brought a new thought to me. “Misshapen. Do you think, then, that the Skill might be used on Thick? To repair what is wrong and make him normal?”
Chade shook his head slowly. “‘Different’ is not ‘wrong,’ Fitz. Thick’s body recognizes itself as correct. His differences are no more to him than . . . well, here I am guessing, but I suspect that just as one man is tall and another is short, so it is with Thick. His body grew to some plan of its own. Thick is what he is. Perhaps we should just be grateful that we have him, even if he is different.”
“You have been investigating this most thoroughly, then.” I tried to keep condemnation from my voice.
“You cannot imagine what this is like for me, Fitz,” he affirmed quietly. “It is like a cell door has opened and I am allowed to walk free in the world. I am dazzled by all that I see. A blade of grass is as wonderful to such a freed prisoner as is the wide spread of a valley. I resent everything that calls me away from this exploration. I do not want to sleep or pause for meals. It is difficult for me to force my mind to the Queen’s business. What do I care of Bingtown Traders and dragons and narcheskas? The Skill has seized my imagination and my heart. Exploring it is all I truly want to do.”
My heart sank. I recognized Chade’s obsession for what it was. Often and often had I seen him go through such fevers of fascination. Once his mind seized on an area of study, he would pursue it until he grasped it thoroughly. Or until another frenzy stole his attention away. “So.” I attempted to speak lightly. “Does this mean you will set aside your explosive experiments for a time?”
For an instant, he looked puzzled, as if he had completely forgotten. Then, “Oh. That. I think I’ve discovered what I was attempting to discern about that. There are ways it may be useful, but it is too difficult to regulate to rely upon it.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “I have set it aside. This is far more important for me to grasp now.”
“Chade.” I spoke quietly. “You must not venture alone into this. Even more, you must not draw Thick in after you. I hope you can see now that I speak for concern for you, not to hold you back from any selfish secret of mine.” I took a breath. “You need a foundation. When I have my strength back, when Dutiful and Thick and I resume studying together, you must come to the tower with us.”
He was silent for a time, studying me. “And Lord Golden?” He cocked his head at me. “You did say, before, that he too was a member of this coterie.”
“Did I?” I feigned confusion for a moment. “Oh. He was there, at my healing. And I thought I felt . . . do you think he truly contributed to my healing?”
Chade looked at me oddly. “Don’t you think you would be a better judge of that than I? You told me he did, but a day ago.”
I looked at my strange but strong reluctance to bring the Fool into our Skill lessons. He would not come anyway, I told myself, and then wondered if I were right. “I could tell he was there, but I could not tell what he was doing,” I amended.
Chade’s manner was grave. “Guiding us, I thought. He said he had been part of something similar once, when Nighteyes was stricken.” He paused, then said without inflection, “He knows you well. I think that was what he contributed most. He knows you well and he seemed to know . . . a way into you.” He sighed. “Fitz, you have already admitted as much.”
“He was there when I used both the Wit and the Skill to heal the wolf. But he did not help with the healing. He helped me recover myself afterward.” Then I stopped. After a time, I said, “The reticence and secrecy. Does it become a habit? I swear, Chade, I don’t know why . . . Damn this. Yes. The Fool and I have a Skill bond. Thin but there, a remnant from when he first got the Skill on his fingers when he touched Verity and then me. And when he used it to pull me back to my body, it grew stronger. I suspect that if I considered it, I would find it stronger still since this healing. I rather doubt that he has any true Skill of his own. Only what is on his fingers, and perhaps his bond can only be with me.”
