He looked down at his long hands held loosely in his lap. 'I have discussed this at length with Prilkop. There is so much that neither of us knows about this situation, this living beyond our time as White Prophets. He has experienced it longer than I have. He stayed here because it was the last place he had a vision of himself. He stayed in the hopes that his final view of another prophet and catalyst coming to finish his task was true. And it was. His last vision was true.' He looked into the fire and then leaned over to push the end of a piece of driftwood deeper into it. 'I had a final vision, too. Of what would be after my death.I

I waited.

'I saw you, Fitz. I saw you in the midst of what you are currently becoming. It did not seem to me that you were always happy, but I thought you were more complete than before.'

'What has that got to do with it?'

'It has to do with what I did not see. I was, of course, to be dead. I had seen clearly that my death was a part of your future. No, that sounds cruel, as if my death were a thing you had planned. Rather, say, that my death was a landmark on the journey to where you had gone. You had passed my death and gone on to that life.'

'I did pass your death. But, as you have told me so often, I am a Catalyst. I brought you back.'

'Yes. You did. I had never foreseen such a thing. Neither had Prilkop- And in all the records we studied and memorized when we were in training, there is nothing that either of us can recall that foreshadows such a thing.' He almost smiled. 'I should have foreseen that only you could work such a change, a change that may have carried us outside of any future that any White Prophet has ever foreseen.'

'But -' I began, and he lifted that long cautioning forefinger to halt me.

'Prilkop and I have discussed this. Neither of us thinks I should risk being around you too much. I could make a serious mistake. There is far less chance of my making a mistake if I do not go back with you.'

'I don't understand. A mistake? What mistake? You're feverish still, and not making sense.' I was worried and irritated at the same time. I shifted angrily and he reached out a hand and set it on my arm. His touch was almost cool. He was still weak from his changing time but he did not speak from fever. His voice was almost stern, as if he were an old man and I were a wilful youngster.

'Yes, you do. You understand. You don't want to look at it, but you know it. You are still the Changer, still the Catalyst. Even in the short time you were at Buckkeep, you've proved that. Change is swirling around you like a whirlpool. Restored, you no longer flee it, but seem to attract it. And I, I am blind now, when it comes to seeing what vast changes my influence upon you can cause. So.' He was silent for a time. I waited him out. 'I will not be coming with you. No, wait, don't speak. Let me talk for a time.'

But instead of speaking, he immediately fell silent. I sat and looked at him and thought how he had changed. The pale moonfaced boy, the lithe and narrow youth, was now visibly a young man. Recent privation had sharpened the angles of his face and the bruises around his eyes from his torment were still fading. But that was only his body. His glance had darkened and his solemnity did not seem a temporary mood but a new gravity of spirit. I let him take his time as he mentally sorted his words. I suspected he was working on a decision, and that however resolute he might claim to be, his heart still teetered on a choice.

'Fitz, I faced my death, not bravely perhaps, but determinedly. Because I had seen what might come after it, and judged it worth the cost. I decided to come to this island, and set in motion the events that would end with the dragon rising. I knew I would die, horribly, in pain and cold. But I also saw the chance for the world to know dragons again, a chance for there to be creatures as arrogant and lovely as humans, so that they might balance one another. I dreamed of a world in which men could not dominate all nature and impose their order upon it. It will not be a peaceful world, and it may be that men will curse me for my role in what happened here. But it will be a world in which both men and dragons are so busy with one another that they cannot subvert all nature to themselves. That was what I saw, in the greater scheme of things.'

'Fine!' I was weary of his talk of dragons, and uneasy still about what we had loosed on the world. 'So now there will be dragons. Lots of them, from what I saw happening over the battlefield. But why can't you come back to -'

'Hush!I he rebuked me sternly. 'Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think that lofty reason is my only one? Do you think it is easy for me to part my ways from yours? No. There is a more personal element that divides my path from yours. It is because of what I glimpsed on a far smaller scale. I saw you, after my death, taking satisfaction in the things and people you had so long denied yourself. Living the life you were meant to have, after my death. You gave me another piece of life. Shall I use it to rob you of yours?' More slowly he added, 'I can love you, Fitz, but I cannot allow that love to destroy you and what you are.' He rubbed at his face wearily, and then exclaimed in annoyance at the skin that peeled away beneath his fingers. He shook the bits from his fingertips, rubbed his face all over vigorously, and then folded his hands into his lap and looked into the fire. I glowered at him, baffled and waiting.

Behind us, Prilkop moved quietly around the room. I heard a clicking sound and glanced behind me. He had opened the neck of a little sack and was taking small blocks of stone out of it. I recognized it at once. Memory stone, cut into uniform cubes like the ones I had glimpsed in the Elderling chamber. I watched as he held one briefly against his temple, then smiled, and set it aside. He repeated the process, and again. It was soon apparent to me he was sorting the blocks into different stacks. He looked up, realizing the Fool and I were watching him. He smiled and held up a cube of stone. 'Music' Another cube. 'Some poetry.' Another cube. 'History. Music, again.' He proffered one to me, but I waved it aside, uneasy. The Fool, however, reached out to touch it lightly with one Skilled fingertip. He recoiled from it as quickly as if he had been burned, but then smiled at me. 'Music, indeed. Like a rushing flood of it. You should try it, Fitz.'

'We were talking,' I reminded him quietly. 'About you coming back to Buckkeep with me.'

'No. We were talking about me not coming back.' He tried a smile that failed.

I just looked at him. A short time later he said something, a request, to Prilkop. At almost the same moment, I felt Chade tug at my thoughts. I would speak to the Queen.

I cant right now. Try Thick.

You know all the reasons why that will not work. Please, Fitz. It will not take long.

That is what you said last time. Besides, I am nowhere near the Queen. I went through the pillar. I'm with the Fool.

What? Without warning any of us or consulting with us at all?

I believe my life is still my own.

No. It was a flat denial from Chade. No, it is not, sir. Last night, you drew a line with me, and I sensed you did it with the Queen s approval. You cannot claim that authority one moment, and then shoulder aside from it the next. Crowns cannot be doffed so lightly.

I am not truly the King and you know it.

Too late to take that stance, Fitz'. Chade sounded angry. Too late. The Queen offered you the authority and you accepted it.

I did not capitulate. I could not decide if I agreed with him or not. Give me some time. By now, you must be at sea. What can be of such immediate importance now that you have sailed?

It will keep for a time, that is true. But after this, Fitz, you must not absent yourself without warning all of us.