The Wise Man's Fear (68 page)
Read The Wise Man's Fear Online
Authors: Patrick Rothfuss
Tags: #Mercenary troops, #Magicians, #Magic, #Attempted assassination, #Fairies, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Heroes, #Epic
I wasn’t entirely surprised to find Elodin on Stonebridge. Very little about the Master Namer surprised me these days. He sat on the waist-high stone lip of the bridge, swinging his bare feet over the hundred-foot drop to the river below.
“Hello Kvothe,” he said without turning his eyes from the churning water.
“Hello Master Elodin,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m going to be leaving the University for a term or two.”
“Are you really afraid?” I noticed a whisper of amusement in his quiet, resonant voice.
It took me a moment to realize what he was referring to. “It’s just a figure of speech.”
“The figures of our speaking are like pictures of names. Vague, weak names, but names nonetheless. Be mindful of them.” He looked up at me. “Sit with me for a moment.”
I started to excuse myself, then hesitated. He was my sponsor, after all. I set down my lute and travelsack on the flat stone of the bridge. A fond smile came over Elodin’s boyish face and he slapped the stone parapet next to himself with the flat of his hand, offering me a seat.
I looked over the edge with a hint of anxiety. “I’d rather not, Master Elodin.”
He gave me a reproachful look. “Caution suits an arcanist. Assurance suits a namer. Fear does not suit either. It does not suit you.” He slapped the stone again, more firmly this time.
I carefully climbed onto the parapet and swung my feet over the edge. The view was spectacular, exhilarating.
“Can you see the wind?”
I tried. For a moment it seemed as if... No. It was nothing. I shook my head.
Elodin shrugged nonchalantly, though I sensed a hint of disappointment. “This is a good place for a namer. Tell me why.”
I looked around. “Wide wind, strong water, old stone.”
“Good answer.” I heard genuine pleasure in his voice. “But there is another reason. Stone, water, and wind are other places too. What makes this different?”
I thought for a moment, looked around, shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Another good answer. Remember it.”
I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I asked, “What makes this a good place?”
He looked out over the water for a long time before he answered. “It is an edge,” he said at last. “It is a high place with a chance of falling. Things are more easily seen from edges. Danger rouses the sleeping mind. It makes some things clear. Seeing things is a part of being a namer.”
“What about falling?” I asked.
“If you fall, you fall,” Elodin shrugged. “Sometimes falling teaches us things too. In dreams you often fall before you wake.”
We were both silent in our thoughts for a while. I closed my eyes and tried to listen for the name of the wind. I heard the water below, felt the stone of the bridge beneath my palms. Nothing.
“Do you know what they used to say when a student left the University for a term?” Elodin asked.
I shook my head.
“They said he was chasing the wind,” he chuckled.
“I’ve heard the expression.”
“Have you? What did it seem to mean?”
I took a moment to choose my words. “It had a frivolous flavor. As if students were running around to no good purpose.”
Elodin nodded. “Most students leave for frivolous reasons, or to pursue frivolous things.” He leaned forward to look straight down at the river below. “But that was not always the meaning of it.”
“No?”
“No.” He sat back up again. “Long ago, when all students aspired to be namers, things were different.” He licked a finger and held it to the air. “The name most fledgling namers were encouraged to find was that of the wind. After they found that name, their sleeping minds were roused and finding other names was easier.
“But some students had trouble finding the name of the wind. There were too few edges here, too little risk. So they would go off into the wild, uneducated lands. They would seek their fortunes, have adventures, hunt for secrets and treasure. . . .” He looked at me. “But they were really looking for the name of the wind.”
Our conversation paused as someone came onto the bridge. It was a man with dark hair and a pinched face. He watched us from the corner of his eye without turning his head, and as he walked behind us I tried not to think how easy it would be for him to push me off the bridge.
Then he was past us. Elodin gave a weary sigh and continued. “Things have changed. There are even fewer edges now than there were before. The world is less wild. There are fewer magics, more secrets, and only a handful of people who know the name of the wind.”
“You know it, don’t you?” I asked.
Elodin nodded. “It changes from place to place, but I know how to listen for its changing shape.” He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “You should go. Chase the wind. Do not be afraid of the occasional risk.” He smiled. “In moderation.”
I swung my legs around, hopped off the thick wall, and resettled my lute and travelsack over my shoulder. But as I started toward Imre, Elodin’s voice stopped me. “Kvothe.”
I turned and saw Elodin lean forward over the side of the bridge. He grinned like a schoolboy. “Spit for luck.”
Devi opened the door for me and widened her eyes in shock. “My goodness,” she said, pressing a piece of paper dramatically to her chest. I recognized it as one of the notes I left under her door. “It’s my secret admirer.”
“I was trying to pay off my loan,” I said. “I made four trips.”
“The walk is good for you,” she said with a cheerful lack of sympathy as she motioned me inside, bolting the door behind me. The room smelled of. . .
I sniffed. “What is that?” I asked.
Her expression went rueful. “It was supposed to be pear.”
I lay down my lute case and travelsack and took a seat at her desk. Despite my best intentions, my eyes were drawn to the charred black ring.
Devi tossed her strawberry-blonde hair and met my eye. “Care for a rematch?” she asked, her mouth curving. “I can still take you, gram or no gram. I can take you while I’m dead asleep.”
“I’ll admit to being curious,” I said. “But I should tend to business instead.”
“Very well,” she said. “Are you really going to pay me off entire? Have you finally found yourself a patron?”
I shook my head. “However, I have had a remarkable opportunity arise. The chance to get a fine patron indeed.” I paused. “In Vintas.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a long ways off,” she said pointedly. “I’m glad you stopped to settle your debt before jaunting off to the other side of the world. Who knows when you’ll be back.”
“Indeed,” I said. “However. I find myself in a bit of an odd place, financially speaking.”
Devi was already shaking her head before I finished speaking. “Absolutely not. You’re already into me for nine talents. I am not loaning you more money the day you leave town.”
I held up my hands defensively. “You misunderstand,” I said. I opened my purse and spilled talents and jots onto the table. Denna’s ring tumbled out too, and I stopped it before it could roll off the edge of the table.
I gestured to the pile of coins in front of me, slightly more than thirteen talents. “This is all the money I have in the world,” I said. “With it, I need to get myself to Severen with fair speed. A thousand miles with some to spare. That means passage on at least one ship. Food. Lodging. Money for coaches or the use of a post note.”
As I listed each of these things, I slid an appropriate amount of money from one side of the desk to the other. “When I finally arrive in Severen, I will need to buy myself clothes that will allow me to move among the court without looking like the ragged musician I am.” I slid more coins.
I pointed at the few straggling coins remaining. “This does not leave me enough to settle my debt with you.”
Devi watched me over her steepled fingers. “I see,” she said seriously. “We must discover some alternate method for you to square your debt.”
“My thought is this,” I said. “I can leave you with collateral against my eventual return.”
Her eyes flickered down to the slender, dark shape of my lute case.
“Not my lute,” I said quickly. “I need that.”
“What then?” she asked. “You’ve always said you have no collateral.”
“I have a few things,” I said, rummaging around in my travelsack and brought up a book.
Devi’s eyes lit up. Then she read the spine.
“Rhetoric and Logic?”
She made a face.
“Rhetoric and Logic?”
She made a face.
“I feel the same way,” I said. “But it’s worth something. Especially to me. Also . . .” I reached into the pocket of my cloak and brought out my hand lamp. “I have this. A sympathy lamp of my own design. It has a focused beam and a graded switch.”
Devi picked it up off the desk, nodding to herself. “I remember this,” she said. “Before, you said you couldn’t give it up because of a promise you’d made to Kilvin. Has that changed?”
I gave a bright smile that was two-thirds lie. “That promise is actually what makes that lamp the perfect piece of collateral,” I said. “If you take this lamp to Kilvin, I have every confidence he will pay a lavish sum just to get it out of . . .” I cleared my throat. “Unsavory hands.”
Devi flicked the switch idly with her thumb, spinning it from dim to bright and back again. “And I imagine this would be a stipulation you require? That I return it to Kilvin?”
“You know me so well,” I said. “It’s almost embarrassing.”
Devi set the lamp back on the table next to my book and took a slow breath through her nose. “A book that’s only valuable to you,” she said. “And a lamp that’s only valuable to Kilvin.” She shook her head. “This is not an appealing offer.”
I felt a pang as I reached to my shoulder and unclasped my talent pipes and slid them onto the table as well. “Those are silver,” I said. “And hard to come by. They’ll get you into the Eolian free, too.”
“I know what they are.” Devi picked them up and looked them over with a sharp eye. Then she pointed. “You had a ring.”
I froze. “That’s not mine to give.”
Devi laughed. “It’s in your pocket, isn’t it?” She snapped her fingers. “Come now. Let me see it.”
I brought it out of my pocket, but I didn’t hand it over. “I went through a lot of trouble for this,” I said. “It’s the ring Ambrose took from a friend of mine. I’m just waiting to return it to her.”
Devi sat silently, her hand outstretched. After a moment I put the ring onto her palm.
She held it close to the lamp and leaned forward, squinting one eye closed on her pixie face. “That’s a nice stone,” she said appreciatively.
“The setting’s new,” I said miserably.
Devi set the ring carefully on top of the book next to my pipes and hand lamp. “Here is the deal,” she said. “I will keep these items as collateral against your current debt of nine talents. This will last for the space of one year.”
“A year and a day,” I said.
A smile curved the corner of her mouth. “How storybook of you. Very well. This will postpone your repayment for a year and a day. If you have not repaid me by the end of that time, these items will be forfeit, and our debt will be cleared.” Her smile went sharp. “Though I may be persuaded to return them in exchange for certain information.”
I heard the belling tower in the distance and gave a deep sigh. I didn’t have much time for bargaining, as I was already late for my meeting with Threpe. “Fine,” I said, irritated. “But the ring will be kept somewhere safe. You can’t wear it until I’ve defaulted.”
Devi frowned. “You don’t—”
“I am not movable on this point,” I said seriously. “It belongs to a friend. It is precious to her. I would not have her see it on someone else’s hand. Not after everything I did to get it back from Ambrose.”
Devi said nothing, her pixie face set in a grim expression. I put on my own grim expression and met her eye. I do a good grim expression when I need to.
A long moment of silence stretched between us.
Other books
Getting Some Of Her Own by Gwynne Forster
Black Cairn Point by Claire McFall
#2 Dangerous Games by Lora Leigh
Undeniable by Bill Nye
Waybound by Cam Baity
Reawakening by Durreson, Amy Rae
At First Sight: Special Edition by Heather Todd
Hawke's Tor by Thompson, E. V.
Thirteen by Lauren Myracle
White Trash Witch by Franny Armstrong
