LITMIR.BIZ

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for what people bring down upon themselves. It is none of your doing. You tried to leave quietly. They are the ones who pursued you and attacked us. Put it from your mind.

      Then she wrapped him in love, in a surging wave of warm affection that overpowered any thought of his own that he might have. But she seemed to be only at the edges of that flow. It was cat-love, the fierce claws-and-teeth love of a feline. The emotion drenched me and despite my wariness, I near succumbed to it myself. I felt the Prince accept that she would do what she must do. She only did it so that they could be together. Was any price too high to pay for that?

      She’s dead.

      The wolf’s thought was like a voice in the room of a sleeping man. For a moment, I incorporated it into my dreams. Then the sense of it struck me like a punch to the belly. Of course. She’s dead. She rides the cat.

      And in that foolish moment of my sharing with the wolf, she was aware of me.

      What is this? Her fear and outrage were nothing compared to her utter shock. She had never experienced anything like this. It was outside her magic completely, and in the rawness of her astonishment, she betrayed much of her self.

      I wrenched free of all contact before she could know any more than that someone had been there, watching her, just as I felt her make surer her grip upon him. It reminded me of a great cat seizing a mouse in her jaws and paralysing it with a bite. I got that same sense of both possession and devouring. For one clear moment, I hoped that the Prince perceived her as clearly as I did. He was a toy for her, a possession and a tool. She felt no love for him.

      But the cat does, Nighteyes pointed out to me.

      And in that twisting disparity, I came back to myself.

      It reminded me of my jolting leap from the tree. Slammed back into my own flesh, I still sat up, gasping for air and space. Beside me, the Prince remained inert, but Nighteyes was instantly with me, thrusting his great head under my arm. Are you all right, little brother? Did she hurt you?

      I tried to answer, but instead rocked forwards, moaning as a Skill-headache exploded in my skull. I was literally blinded, isolated in a black night riven by lightning bolts of blazing white across my vision. I blinked, then knuckled my eyes, trying to make the glaring light go away. It exploded into colours that sickened me. I hunched my shoulders and curled up against the pain.

      A moment later, I felt a cold cloth laid across the back of my neck. I sensed the Fool beside me, blessedly silent. I swallowed and drew several deep breaths and then spoke into my hands. ‘They’re coming. The Piebalds we fought today, and others. They know where we are from the Prince. He’s like a beacon fire. We can’t hide, and they’re too many for us to fight and survive. Running is our only chance. We can’t wait for moonrise. Nighteyes will lead us.’

      The Fool spoke very softly as if he guessed at my pain. ‘Shall I wake the Prince?’

      ‘Don’t bother trying. He’s far and deep, and I don’t think she’ll let him come back to his body right now. We’ll have to take him as a dead weight. Saddle the horses, will you?’

      ‘I will. Fitz, can you ride as you are?’

      I opened my eyes. Floating jags of light still divided my vision, but now I could see the darkened meadow beyond them. I forced a smile to my face. ‘I’ll have to ride, just as my wolf will have to run. And you may have to fight. Not what any of us would choose, but there it is. Nighteyes. Go now. Choose a path for us, and get as far ahead of us as you can. I don’t know from which direction the other attackers are coming. Spy ahead for us.’

      You think to send me out of harm’s way. The thought was almost reproachful.

      I would if I could, my brother, but the truth is that I may be sending you directly into danger. Scout for us. Go now.

      He rose stiffly and stretched. He gave himself a shake, and then set out, not at a lope, but at his distance-devouring trot. Almost immediately, he became invisible to me, the grey wolf gone into the grey meadow. Go carefully, my heart, I wished after him, but softly, softly, lest he know how much I feared for him.

      I rose, moving very carefully, as if my head were an over-full glass. I did not actually believe my brains would spill out of the top of my skull if I were careless, but I almost hoped it. I took the Fool’s wet handkerchief off the back of my neck and held it to my brow and eyes for a time. When I looked down on the Prince, he hadn’t moved. If anything, his body was curled more tightly. I heard the Fool come up behind me leading the horses and I turned cautiously to look at him.

      ‘Can you explain?’ he asked softly, and I realized how little he knew. It was all the more amazing that he so unquestioningly acted on my requests.

      I drew a breath. ‘He’s using the Skill and the Wit. And he hasn’t been trained in either, so he’s vulnerable, very vulnerable. He’s too young to understand just how much at risk he is. Right now, his consciousness rides with the cat. For all intents, he is the cat.’

      ‘But he will awaken and come back to his body?’

      I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I hope so. Fool, there is more. There is someone else joined to the cat. I, that is, we, Nighteyes and I, suspect that she is the cat’s former owner.’

      ‘Former? I thought Witted ones bonded to their animals for life?’

      ‘They do. She would be dead now. But her consciousness is within the cat, using the cat.’

      ‘But I thought the Prince …’

      ‘Yes. The Prince is there, too. I do not think he realizes that this woman he loves does not exist as a woman any more. I know he has no concept of how much power she has over him. And over the cat.’

      ‘What can we do?’

      The throbbing in my head was making me sick to my stomach. I spoke more harshly than I intended. ‘Forcibly separate the boy from the cat. Kill the cat, and hope the boy doesn’t die.’

      ‘Oh, Fitz!’ He was appalled.

      I didn’t have time to care.

      ‘Saddle just two of the horses, Malta and Myblack. I’ll put the boy in front of me. And then we have to ride.’

      I did nothing while the Fool prepared the horses. I didn’t pack up anything, for I didn’t intend to take anything with us. Instead I just sat still and tried to persuade my head to ease. It was made the more difficult in that I was still Skill-twined with the boy. I felt more his absence than his presence. I sensed that there was pressure upon him, but it was a Wit pushing. I could not decide if she reached, trying to know more of me, or if she reached trying to possess the boy’s body. I did not wish to respond to it; they already knew enough of me from that earlier brushing touch. So I sat, head in hands, and looked at Kettricken’s son. As Verity had taught me so long ago, I carefully set my Skill-walls. This time, I set them to include the boy at my feet. I did not consider what I was trying to hold out. Instead, I focused on keeping open the space that was his mind, reserving it for him to return to.

      ‘Ready,’ the Fool said quietly, and I stood up again. I mounted Myblack, who was amazingly steady under me as the Fool hoisted the boy up into my arms. As always, the strength of the slender man surprised me. I arranged the Prince before me so that I had one arm to hold on to him, and one hand for the reins. It would have to do. In an instant, the Fool was mounted on Malta beside me. ‘Which way?’ he asked.

      Nighteyes? I kept the questing as small and secret as I could. They might sense our Wit, but I doubted they could use that to follow us.

      My brother. His reply was as discreet. I nudged Myblack and we moved off. I could not have told anyone where Nighteyes was, but I knew that I moved towards him. The Prince was a swaying weight in my arms. It was already uncomfortable. Giving in to my frustration with my pain and his dead weight, I gave him a rough shake. He made a faint sound of protest, but it might have been just air moving out of his lungs. For a time we travelled through forest, ducking swoops of branches and pressing

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