a time he stared at us all without comprehension. His eyes came back to mine, shame washing through their smoky depths. ' `And the one who loves him best shall betray him most foully.' My own prophecy. I have known that since my eleventh year. Chade, I had told myself, when he was willing to take your child. Chade was your betrayer.' He shook his head sadly. 'But it was me. It was me.' He got slowly to his feet. 'I am sorry. So sorry.'
I saw the start of tears on his face. Then he turned and walked slowly away from us. I could not bring myself to go after him, but Nighteyes rose soundlessly and trailed at his heels.
'FitzChivalry.' Verity took a breath, then spoke quietly. 'Fitz, I will try to finish my dragon. It is really all I can do. I only hope it will be enough.'
Despair made me bold. 'My king, will not you do this for me? Will not you Skill a warning to Burrich and Molly, that they may flee Capelin Beach before they are found?'
'Oh, my boy,' he said pityingly. He took a step toward me. 'Even if I dared to, I fear I have not the strength any more.' He lifted his eyes and looked at each of us in turn. His gaze lingered longest on Kettricken. 'It all fails me. My body, my mind, and my Skill. I am so tired, and there is so little left of me. When I killed Carrod, my Skill fled me. My work has been greatly slowed since then. Even the raw power on my hands weakens, and the pillar is closed to me; I cannot pass through it to renew the magic. I fear I may have defeated myself. I fear I will not be able to complete my task. In the end, I may fail you all. All of you, and the entire Six Duchies.'
Kettricken bowed her face into her hands. I thought she would weep. But when she lifted her eyes again, I saw the strength of her love for the man shining through whatever else she felt. 'If this is what you believe you must do, then let me help you.' She gestured at the dragon. 'There must be something I can do to help you complete it. Show me where to cut stone away, and then you can work the details.'
He shook his head sadly. 'Would that you could. But I must do it myself. It all must be done by me.'
Kettle suddenly surged to her feet. She came to stand beside me, giving me a glare as if everything were all my fault. 'My lord, King Verity,' she began. She seemed to lose courage for a moment, then spoke again louder. 'My king, you are mistaken. Few dragons were created by a single person. At least, not the Six Duchies dragons. Whatever the others, the true Elderlings could do on their own, I do not know. But I know that those dragons that were made by Six Duchies hands were most often made by an entire coterie working together, not a single person.'
Verity stared at her mutely. Then, 'What are you saying?' he demanded in a shaking voice.
'I am saying what I know. Regardless of how others may come to think of me.' She gave one glance around at us, as if bidding us farewell. Then she put her back to us and addressed only the King. 'My lord king. I name myself Kestrel of Buck, once of Stanchion's Coterie. But by my Skill I did slay a member of my own coterie, for jealousy over a man. To do so was high treason, for we were the Queen's own strength. And I destroyed that. For this I was punished as the Queen's Justice saw fit. My Skill was burned out of me, leaving me as you see me; sealed into myself, unable to reach beyond the walls of my own body, unable to receive the touch of those I had held dear. That was done by my own coterie. For the murder itself, the Queen banished me from the Six Duchies, for all time. She sent me away so that no Skilled one would be tempted to take pity on me and try to free me. She said she could imagine no worse punishment, that one day in my isolation I would long for death.' Kettle sank slowly to her old knees on the hard stone. 'My king, my queen, she was right. I ask your mercy now. Either put me to death. Or …' Very slowly she lifted her head. 'Or use your strength to reopen me to the Skill. And I will serve you as coterie in the carving of this dragon.'
All was silence for a time. When Verity spoke, it was in confusion. 'I know of no Stanchion's Coterie.'
Kettle's voice shook as she admitted, 'I destroyed it, my lord. There were but five of us. My act left only three alive to the Skill, and they had experienced the physical death of one member and the … burning of myself. They were greatly weakened. I heard that they were released from their service to the Queen, and sought the road that once began in Jhaampe town. They never returned, but I do not think they survived the rigors of this road. I do not think they ever made a dragon such as we once used to dream about.'
When Verity spoke, he did not seem to be replying to her words. 'Neither my father nor either of his wives had coteries sworn to them. Nor my grandmother.' His brow wrinkled. 'Which queen did you serve, woman?'
'Queen Diligence, my king,' Kettle said quietly. She was still kneeling on the hard stone.
'Queen Diligence reigned over two hundred years ago,' Verity observed.
'She died two hundred twenty-three years ago,' Starling interposed.
'Thank you, minstrel,' Verity said dryly. 'Two hundred twenty-three years ago. And you would have me believe you were coterie to her.'
'I was, my lord. I had turned my Skill upon myself, for I wished to keep my youth and beauty. It was not regarded as an admirable thing to do, but most Skilled ones did it to some extent. It took me over a year to master my body. But what I had done, I did well. To this day, I heal swiftly. Most illnesses pass me by.' She could not keep a note of pride from her voice.
'The legendary longevity of the coterie members,' King Verity observed softly to himself. He sighed. 'There must have been much in Solicity's books that Chivalry and I were never made privy to.'
'A great deal.' Kettle spoke with more confidence now. 'It amazes me that, with as little training as you and FitzChivalry have, you have managed to come this far alone. And to carve a dragon alone? It is a feat for a song.'
Verity glanced back at her. 'Oh, come, woman, sit down. It pains me to see you kneel. Obviously there is much you can and should tell me.' He shifted restlessly and glanced back at his dragon. 'But while we are talking, I am not working.'
'Then I shall say to you only what needs most to be said,' Kettle offered. She clambered painfully to her feet. 'I was powerful in the Skill. Strong enough to kill with it, as few are.' Her voice halted, thickening. She took a breath and resumed. 'That power is still within me. One strongly Skilled enough could open me to it again. I believe you have that strength. Though right now, you may not be able to master it. You have killed with the Skill, and that is a heinous thing. Even though the coterie member was not true to you, still, you had worked together. In killing him, you killed a part of yourself. And that is why you feel you have no Skill left to you. Had I my Skill, I could help you heal yourself.'
Verity gave a small laugh. 'I have no Skill, you have no Skill, but if we did, we could heal one another. Woman, this is like a tangle of rope with no ends. How is the knot to be undone, save with a sword?'
'We have a sword, my king. FitzChivalry. The Catalyst.'
'Ah. That old legend. My father was fond of it.' He looked at me consideringly. 'Do you think he is strong enough? My nephew August was Skill-burned and never recovered. For him, I sometimes thought it a mercy. The Skill was leading him down a path ill-suited to him. I think I suspected then that Galen had done something to the coterie. But I had so much to do. Always so much to do.'
I sensed my king's mind wavering. I stepped forward resolutely. 'My lord, what is it you wish me to attempt?'
'I wish you to attempt nothing. I wish you to do. There. That is what Chade often said to me. Chade. Most of him is in the dragon now, but that is a bit I left out. I should put that in the dragon.'
Kettle stepped closer to him. 'My lord, help me to free my Skill. And I will help you to fill the dragon.'
There was something in the way she said those words. She spoke them aloud before us all, yet I felt that only Verity truly knew what she said. At last, very reluctantly, he nodded. 'I see no other way,' he said to himself. 'No other way at all.'
'How am I to do a thing, when I don't even know what that thing is?' I complained. 'My king,' I added, at a rebuking look from Kettricken.
'You know as much as we do,' Verity rebuked me quietly. 'Kestrel's mind was burned with the Skill, by her own coterie, to condemn her to isolation for the rest of her life. You must use what Skill you have in any way you can, to try to break through the scarring.'
'I have no idea how to begin,' I began. But then Kettle turned and looked at me: There was pleading in her old eyes. Loss, and loneliness. And Skill-hunger that had built to the point at which it was devouring her from within. Two hundred and twenty-three years, I thought to myself. It was a long time to be exiled from one's homeland. An impossible time to be confined to one's own body. 'But I will try,' I amended my words. I put out my hand to her.
Kettle hesitated, then set her hand in mine. We stood, clasping hands, looking at one another. I reached for
