Assassin’s Fate

‘Despite our fall from grace, there were a few manipulors and collators who remained loyal to us. We found a message baked into one of the little loaves of bread we were given. It was a valiant promise that they would continue to send messengers until they were sure one got through. I hated to think of the risks they would take, but had no way to beg them to stop. So, I dared to hope.’

He dragged in a breath and closed the book on his lap. His groping hand found my shoulder and clutched it tightly. ‘Fitz. One day they moved us. From the pleasant, airy cells down to ones in the bowels of the stronghold. They were dark and damp, and looked out onto a sort of … stage, with seating around it. There was a table in the centre of the stage, and tools for torture. It smelled of old blood. Each day, I feared we would face irons and pincers and pokers. But we didn’t. Still, that sort of waiting and wondering … I cannot say how many days passed like that.

‘Each day they gave us each just a small loaf of bread and a pitcher of water. But one evening when they brought our food—’ He was gasping now. ‘The water pitcher … was full of blood. And when we broke open the bread, it was baked full of tiny bones. Finger bones …’ His voice was rising higher and higher. I put my hand on his gloved hand on my shoulder. It was all I could do.

‘Day after day … bloody water and bone-bread. We could not guess how many they killed. The second day they separated Prilkop from me. But the pitcher of blood and the bone-bread continued. They gave me nothing else to eat or drink, but I did not give in. I did not give in, Fitz.’

He stopped to breathe, and for a time, that was all he could do. As if he had run a terrible race to escape these memories. But they had caught up with him at last.

‘Then, it stopped. They gave me a small loaf of coarse bread, but when I broke it, there were no bones in it. The next day, instead of bread, there were vegetables in a dark broth. I ate it. Bone-flour and blood-soup. For three days. Then, in the bread, a single tooth. And bobbing in the soup, a single pale eye. Oh, Fitz.’

‘You could not have known.’ My stomach turned.

‘I should have known. I should have guessed. I was so hungry. So thirsty. Did I know, did I guess and refuse to acknowledge it? I should have guessed, Fitz.’

‘You have not the darkness of heart to imagine such a thing, Fool.’ I could not stand to torment him any longer that night. ‘Go to sleep. You have told me enough. Tomorrow we take back Bee. And before we leave this city, I will kill as many of them as I can.’

‘If I sleep, I shall dream of it,’ he replied, his voice shaking. ‘They were brave, Fitz. Brave beyond any courage I have ever had. My allies, they did not stop. They helped me when they could. It was not often and it was not much. A kind word whispered as someone passed my cell. Once, some warm water on a cloth.’ He shook his head. ‘I fear they were harshly punished for those small mercies.’

‘Tomorrow, once we have Bee, I intend a different sort of “mercy” for the Four,’ I promised him.

He could not smile at my extravagant promise. ‘I fear we cannot surprise them. The sheer number of dreams and dreamers they have to consult will betray us to them. And I fear they will be very ready to take me back and resume what they began.’ He put his face into his hands. His voice was muffled by his gloved fingers. ‘They consider me a traitor,’ he confided to me. ‘And for that reason, they hate me more vividly than for any other thing I have done. I do not fear that they will capture and kill me, Fitz. I fear they will capture me and never kill me.’

I saw, not his fear, but his courage. He was terrified, but for Bee he would dare to tempt once more the powers of Clerres. I reached over, caught his cuffs and pulled his hands away from his face. Time to be honest. ‘Fool. I know what you dreamed. Not just what you told me, but all of it. And I understand your choice.’ He gave me a woeful look. ‘Paragon told me.’

He gently pulled his hands free. ‘I should have known he’d be aware of what I dreamed. I’m still surprised he told you.’

‘I think he was concerned for you. As he demonstrated the first day I met him, he is very fond of you.’

‘Did he tell you all of it?’

‘He told me enough, Fool. You are correct. If there is a choice to be made, and one of us must die, then I would rather that you went on. I have not been a good parent to Bee. I think you might do better. And you will have Riddle and Nettle to aid you in that. And Dutiful will see that you have an allowance to maintain Withy—’

He laughed harshly. ‘Oh, Fitz. That is not the choice! I do not choose between you and me living.’ A pause. He asked in a choked voice, ‘Did you truly think I would choose myself over you?’

‘It would be the sensible choice. For Bee’s sake.’