Prilkop looked alarmed. “Not through the portal stones? So soon? Not wise is that. Foolish, even.” He made a beckoning gesture at me. “Come to Prilkop's home. A night, a day, a night, a day, and then go back through the stones. If you must.”

“I fear I must go now.” I did not want to see the Fool or talk to him again until I had found a way around all his arguments.

“Changer? You can do this? You have done this before?”

“Several times.”

He came back up the steps toward me, his brow lined with anxiety. “Never have I seen this done so often, so close together. Be careful, then. Do not come back too soon. Rest.”

“I've done this before,” I insisted. I recalled how I had been in and out of the Skill-stones with Dutiful on that long-ago day we fled the Others beach. “Do not fear for me.”

Despite my brave words, I wondered if I were being foolish in going through the Skill-stones once again. Whenever I look back on that moment, I wonder whatever possessed me. Was it the press of hurt that the Fool had taken our link away? I truly think not. I think it was more likely too little sleep for too many days.

I climbed back up the steps to the Skill-pillar. The Black Man followed me anxiously. “Sure you are? Sure of this?”

I stooped and took up the necks of both bags. “I'll be fine,” I assured him. “Tell the Fool I will be back.” I gripped the necks of both bags in one hand. I opened my other palm wide and pushed into the pillar. I stepped into a starry night.

Chapter 35

RESUMPTION

In that last dance of chances

I shall partner you no more.

I shall watch another turn you

As you move across the floor.

In that last dance of chances

When I bid your life good-bye

I will hope she treats you kindly.

I will hope you learn to fly.

In that last dance of chances

When I know you'll not be mine

I will let you go with longing

And the hope that you'll be fine.

In that last dance of chances

We shall know each other's minds.

We shall part with our regrets

When the tie no longer binds.

Fate took a final swipe at me. That is how I have come to think of it. Perhaps the gods wanted to reinforce Prilkop's warning to me.

I felt a very mild surprise. I saw eternal blackness and a scattering of lights of various brightnesses. It was like lying on my back on a tower top and staring up into a summer night. Not that I thought of it that way at the time. At the time, I drifted through stars. But I did not fall. I did not think, I did not wonder. I was simply there. A brighter star there was, and I was drawn to it. I could not tell if I got closer to it, or if it approached me. I could not have told anything, for while I was aware of these things, they did not seem to have any significance. I felt a suspension of life, of interest, a suspension of all feelings. When finally the star was close, I attempted to fasten myself to it. This act did not seem to involve any will or intention on my part. Rather, it was like a smaller drop of water starting to blend with another one close by. But she plucked me free of herself, and in that moment of her considering me, I once more came to awareness of self.

What? You again? Are you really so intent on remaining here? You are far too small, you know. Unfinished. There is not enough of you to exist by yourself here. Do you know that?

Know that? Like a child learning language, I echoed her final words, trying to pin meaning to them. Her kindness to me fascinated me, and I did long to immerse myself in her. To me, she seemed made of love and acceptance. I could let go of my boundaries, if she would allow me, and simply mingle what I had been with what she was. I would know no more, think no more, and fear no more.

Without my speaking, she seemed to know my mind. And that is what you would truly wish, little one? To stop being yourself, before you have even completed yourself? There is so much more you could grow to be.

To be, I echoed, and suddenly the simple words took force and I existed again. I knew a moment of full realization, as if I had surfaced from a very deep dive and taken a full deep breath of air. Molly and Nettle, Dutiful and Hap, Patience and Thick, Chade and Kettricken, all of them came back to me in a wave of possibilities. Fear mingled wildly with hope as to what I could become through them.

Ah. I thought perhaps there was something more for you. Then you wish to go back?

Go back.

Where?

Buckkeep. Molly. Nettle. Friends.

I do not think the words had meaning for her. She was beyond all that, beyond the sorting of love into little individual persons or places. But I think my longing was what she could read.