I was cold and wet and shaky. I didn't want to join the guardsmen in our tent until I had finished calming myself. In a sort of instinctive retreat to safety, I found myself outside the Fool's tent. I fumbled with cold hands at the tent flap. 'Lord Golden,' I called softly, belatedly recalling that he might have other guests.

There must have been some note in my voice that alerted him to my distress. He flung the flap open and beckoned me hastily in. Then, 'Stand still. Don't drip everywhere.' He had already changed out of his hiking clothes. He looked warm and dry in a long black robe. I envied him.

'Peottre fed me a bit of cake. It had elfbark in it, and I've lost my Skill-magic' The words tumbled from me, broken by my chattering teeth.

'Take off your wet things.' He had begun rummaging in his pack almost as soon as I entered. Now he dragged out a long coppery garment. 'This will probably fit you. It's warmer than it looks. How could elfbark steal all your magic in one bite? It's never affected you that way before.'

I shook my head. 'It just did. And someone is attacking Thick and me with the Skill, trying to make us hate each other. It nearly worked, until I thought Thick was going to attack me with the Skill, so I put up my walls and then I could suddenly think my own thoughts and I knew that I didn't really resent having to nursemaid him all the time. It's not really his fault, and even if I don't like having to do it, I shouldn't take it out on him, should I? If anything, I should be angry with Chade, not Thick. He's the one who has put me in this position, and I think that half of it is that he's trying to keep me so busy that I'm separated from you so I won't be influenced by you. Because he wants me simply to follow his orders and not to think -'

'Stop!' The Fool exclaimed, alarmed. I halted in midword. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but he held up both hands. 'Fitz. Listen to yourself. I've never heard you rattle on that way. It's . . . disturbing.'

'It's the elfbark.' I shivered with the restless energy that coursed through me. The last of my wet clothing slapped onto the pile and I gratefully accepted the garment he held out to me, then flinched at its chill weight in my hands. It's cold. It's cold as iron! What is this made from, fish scales/'

'Just trust me and put it on. It warms quickly.'

I had little choice. I pulled it over my head and it slithered down my body. The long robe reached almost to my feet. I shifted my

shoulders in its grip and it suddenly relaxed- 'That's strange. It felt tight across my shoulders and chest, and then, when I flexed my shoulders, it just settled on me. Look. It even reaches to my wrists-It's like unimaginably fine chain metal. Is this more Elderling magic? Is this from the Rain Wilds? I wonder how they made it, and from what? Look at the way the colour shifts when I move.'

'Fitz. Stop chattering like that. It's unnerving.' The Fool had taken possession of my wet clothes. As he lifted them, a fine trickle of water ran out of them. 'I'm putting these outside to drain. It's hopeless to expect them to dry by morning. Do you have others?'

'Yes. In my pack, but I left that in the Prince's tent. I left the keg of Chade's explosion powder there, too. And Thick's things were mostly in my pack, but that's all right as he is there and he'll need them. So it's good that they are already there.' I heard myself babbling and managed to stop talking before he commanded me to.

For a few moments longer, I shivered, and then I felt the robe returning the warmth of my body to me. With a sigh, I sank down onto the Fool's blankets and drew my icy feet up under me. A moment later, I had unfolded myself and restlessly tried a new position. The Fool re-entered the tent and regarded me curiously as I stood and paced a turn around his tiny candle. 'What is it?'

'It's like ants running under my skin.' I pulled my straggling hair back from my face and re-fastened my warrior's tail. 'I can't sit still. I can't stop talking and thinking, and I can't really think in any sort of order, if that makes any sense at all.' My hands suddenly felt too large for me. I systematically popped each of my knuckles, and then shook my hands loose again. I looked up to find the Fool staring at me, his teeth gritted. 'I'm sorry,' I apologized hastily. 'I can't help it.'

'That's obvious,' he muttered. Then, more clearly he added, 'I wish I had some way to help you, but giving you herbs to calm you might not be the best solution. I fear, too, the plunge in spirits that must follow this wild flight you're on. Never have I seen you so besieged by restlessness. If the pit of bleak despair that follows elfbark is as deep as this craze is lofty, I fear for us all'

I saw by his face that he was serious. 'I dread it, too. That is, I

know I should dread it, but I simply can't focus on it right now. Too many other thoughts overwhelm me. How will I dry my clothes before tomorrow, and I was supposed to report back to Chade later, yet I do not think I should wander through the camp in this robe, however warm it is. Yet I cringe at the thought of putting my wet clothing back on, even for the brief walk back to Dutiful's tent. I left my pack there, with all my dry things in it. Thick's things are in it, too. But that's good, because Thick is there and he'll need them.'

'Hush,' he begged me, interrupting the outpour of my thoughts. 'Hush, please Fits, and let me try to think. Always before, elfbark has done no more than damp your talent, and that was passing. Do we dare hope that this will wear off and your magic return?'

1 shrugged wildly. 'I don't know. I don't think we can judge anything about this by what elfbark has done to me before. Did I tell you how close Thick came to eating it as well?'

'No. You didn't.1 The Fool spoke carefully, as if I were slightly mad, and perhaps I was at that time. 'Would you try to do this for me? Leave your hair and your mouth alone. Fold your hands in your lap and tell me what happened to you today. The whole day, please.'

I had not realized that 1 was tugging at my lower lip until he mentioned it. I folded my hands in my lap and made an effort to report to him as if he were Chade. I watched his face grow graver as I spoke and I knew that my words rattled out like hailstones, and that my tale was disjointed, told in bits and patches as I wove the events back and forth in my mind. Before I had finished, I was up and pacing the small confines of his tent. I could not master my agitation. A sudden inspiration came over me. 'Here!' I cried, advancing on him, my bared wrist thrust out to him. 'Let us test it and see if my Skill is as gone as I think it is. Touch me. Try to reach into me with the Skill as you once did.'

He stared up at me, his face gone slack with astonishment. Then a sickly smile of disbelief spread over his face. 'You're asking me to do this?'

'Of course. Yes. Let's find out how bad it is. if you can still reach me, then perhaps my Skill will come back to me as the herb wears off. Let's try it.' I sat down beside him, and set my forearm, wrist

up, on top of his knee. He looked at his faded fingerprints on my wrist and then gave me a sideways look.

'No.' He drew back from me. 'You are not yourself tonight. Fitz. This is not something you would ordinarily allow, let alone request. No.'

'What, are you scared?' I challenged him. 'Go ahead. What can we lose?'

'Respect for one another. That I would do such a thing when you were as good as drunk. No, Fitz. Stop tempting me.'

'Don't worry. I'll remember, tomorrow, that I suggested this. I need to know. Is my magic dead in me?' In some isolated corner of my soul, I felt alarm. I wanted to stop and think, but the anxiety wouldn't let me. Do it now, do something now, do anything now. The drive to he doing, doing anything was a pressing need that could not be denied.