Authors: Patrick Rothfuss

Tags: #Mercenary troops, #Magicians, #Magic, #Attempted assassination, #Fairies, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Heroes, #Epic

The Wise Man's Fear (45 page)

Master Namer shook his head. “Even if you are clever and have a way with words, you are doomed in this. Because while your mouths might speak the same language, your hearts do not.” He looked at me intently. “This is an issue of translation.”

Elodin held up two fingers. “The second path is more careful. You talk of small things. The weather. A familiar play. You spend time in company. You hold hands. In doing so you slowly learn the secret meanings of each other’s words. This way, when the time comes you can speak with subtle meaning underneath your words, so there is understanding on both sides.”

Elodin made a sweeping gesture toward me. “Then there is the third path. The path of Kvothe.” He strode to stand shoulder to shoulder with me, facing Fela. “You sense something between you. Something wonderful and delicate.”

He gave a romantic, lovelorn sigh. “And, because you desire certainty in all things, you decide to force the issue. You take the shortest route. Simplest is best, you think.” Elodin extended his own hands and made wild grasping motions in Fela’s direction. “So you reach out and you grab this young woman’s breasts.”

There was a burst of startled laughter from everyone except Fela and myself. I scowled. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and her flush spread down her neck until it was hidden by her shirt.

Elodin turned his back to her and looked me in the eye.

“Re’lar Kvothe,” he said seriously. “I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to
teach
you.” He leaned forward until his face was almost touching mine. “Quit grabbing at my tits.”

I left Elodin’s class in a foul mood.

Though to be honest, my mood of the last few days had been nothing but different variations of foul. I tried to hide it from my friends, but I was starting to crack under the weight of it all.

It was the loss of my lute that had done it. Everything else I’d been able to take in stride, the stinging burn across my chest, the constant ache in my knees, the lack of sleep. The persistent fear that I might let my Alar slip at the wrong moment and suddenly start vomiting blood.

I’d been coping with it all: my desperate poverty, my frustration with Elodin’s class. Even the new undertow of anxiety that came from knowing Devi was waiting on the other side of the river with a heart full of rage, three drops of my blood, and an Alar like the ocean in a storm.

But the loss of my lute was too much. It wasn’t just that I needed it to earn my room and board at Anker’s. It wasn’t just that my lute was the linchpin of my ability to make a living if I was forced out of the University.

No. The simple fact was that with my music, I could cope with the rest. My music was the glue that held me together. Only two days without it, and I was falling apart.

After Elodin’s class, I couldn’t bear the thought of more hours hunched over a worktable in the Fishery. My hands ached at the thought of it, and my eyes were gritty with lack of sleep.

So instead I wandered back to Anker’s for an early lunch. I must have looked fairly pitiful because he brought me out a double rasher of bacon with my soup, and a short beer besides.

“How did your dinner go, if you don’t mind my asking?” Anker asked, leaning against the bar.

I looked up at him. “Beg your pardon?”

“With your young lady,” he said. “I’m not one to pry, but the runner just dropped it off. I had to read it to see who it was for.”

I gave Anker my blankest look.

Anker gave me a puzzled look, then frowned. “Didn’t Laurel give you your note?”

I shook my head and Anker cursed bitterly. “I swear, some days the light should shine straight through that girl’s head.” He began to rummage around behind the bar. “Runner dropped off a note for you day before yesterday. I told her to give it to you when you got in. Here it is.” He held up a damp and rather draggled piece of paper and handed it to me.

It read:

Kvothe,
I am back in town and would greatly enjoy the company of a charming gentleman at dinner tonight. Sadly, there are none available. Would you care to join me at the Split Stave?
Expectantly yours,
D.

My spirits rose a little. Notes from Denna were a rare treat, and she’d never invited me to dinner before. While I was angry that I’d missed her, knowing she was back in town and eager to see me lifted my spirits considerably.

I wolfed down my lunch, and decided to skip my Siaru lecture in favor of a trip to Imre. I hadn’t seen Denna in more than a span, and spending time with her was the only thing I could think of that might improve my mood.

My enthusiasm dampened a bit as I made my way over the river. It was a long walk, and my knees started to ache even before I’d made it to Stonebridge. The sun was piercingly bright, but not warm enough to fight the chill of the early winter wind. The dust off the road gusted into my eyes and made me choke.

Denna wasn’t at any of the inns where she occasionally stayed. She wasn’t listening to music at the Taps or Goat in the Door. Neither Deoch nor Stanchion had seen her. I worried she might have left town entirely while I was occupied. She could be gone for months. She could be gone forever.

Then I turned a corner and saw her sitting in a small public garden under a tree. She had a letter in one hand and a half-eaten pear in the other. Where had she come by a pear so late in the season?

I was halfway across the garden before I realized she was crying. I stopped where I stood, at a loss for what to do. I wanted to help, but I didn’t want to intrude. Maybe it would be best . . .

“Kvothe!”

Denna tossed away the remains of the pear, hopped to her feet, and ran across the lawn toward me. She was smiling, but her eyes were rimmed with red. She wiped at her cheeks with one hand.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

Her eyes welled up with new tears, but before they could fall she screwed her eyes shut and shook her head sharply. “No,” she said. “Not entirely.”

“Can I help?” I asked.

Denna blotted her eyes with her shirtsleeve. “You help just by being here.” She folded the letter into a small square and forced it into her pocket. Then she smiled again. It wasn’t a forced smile, the sort you wear like a mask. She smiled a true smile, lovely despite the tears.

Then she tilted her head to one side and gave me a closer look, her smile fading into a look of concern. “What about you?” she asked. “You look a little peaked.”

I gave a weak smile. Mine was forced and I knew it. “I’ve been having a rough time lately.”

“I hope you don’t feel as rough as you look,” she said gently. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“I haven’t,” I admitted.

Denna drew a breath to speak, then paused and bit her lip. “Is it anything you’d like to talk about?” she asked. “I don’t know if I could do anything to help, but . . .” She shrugged and shifted her weight slightly from one foot to another. “I don’t sleep well myself. I know what it’s like.”

Her offer of help caught me unprepared. It made me feel . . . I cannot say exactly how it made me feel. It doesn’t fit easily into words.

It wasn’t the offer of help itself. My friends had been working tirelessly to help me for days. But Sim’s willingness to help was different than this. His help was dependable as bread. But knowing Denna cared, that was like a swallow of warm wine on a winter night. I could feel the sweet heat of it in my chest.

I smiled at her. A real smile. The expression felt odd on my face and I wondered how long I’d been scowling without knowing it. “You’re helping just by being here,” I said honestly. “Just seeing you does wonders for my mood.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. The sight of my blotchy face is a panacea.”

“There isn’t much to talk about,” I said. “My bad luck got tangled up with my bad decisions, and I’m paying for it.”

Denna gave a chuckle that hovered on the edge of being a sob. “I wouldn’t know
anything
about that sort of thing,” she said, her lips making a wry twist. “It’s worst when it’s your own stupid fault, isn’t it?”

I felt my mouth curve to mimic hers. “It is,” I said. “Truth be told, I’d prefer a bit of a distraction to a sympathetic ear.”

“That I can provide,” she said, taking hold of my arm. “Lord knows you’ve done the same for me often enough in the past.”

I fell into step alongside her. “Have I?”

“Endlessly,” she said. “It’s easy to forget when you’re around.” She stopped walking for a moment and I had to stop too, as she’d linked her arm in mine. “That’s not right. I mean to say when you’re around, it’s easy to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“Everything,” she said, and for a moment her voice wasn’t quite as playful. “All the bad parts of my life. Who I am. It’s nice to be able to take a vacation from myself every once in a while. You help with that. You’re my safe harbor in an endless, stormy sea.”

I chuckled. “Am I?”

“You are,” she said easily. “You are my shady willow on a sunny day.”

“You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.”

“That’s good,” she said. “You are unexpected cake on a rainy afternoon.”

“You’re the poultice that draws the poison from my heart,” I said.

“Hmm.” Denna looked uncertain. “I don’t know about that one. A heart full of poison isn’t an appealing thought.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “That sounded better before I actually said it.”

“That’s what happens when you mix your metaphors,” she said. A pause. “Did you get my note?”

“I got it today,” I said, letting all my regret pour into my voice. “Just a couple hours ago.”

“Ah,” she said. “That’s too bad, it was a good dinner. I ate yours too.”

I tried to think of something to say, but she simply smiled and shook her head. “I’m teasing. The dinner was just an excuse, actually. I have something to show you. You’re a hard man to find. I thought I was going to have to wait until tomorrow when you sang at Anker’s.”

I felt a sharp pang in my chest, so strong even Denna’s presence couldn’t entirely overwhelm it. “It’s lucky you caught me today,” I said. “I’m not sure I’ll be playing tomorrow.”

She cocked her head at me. “You always sing on Felling night. Don’t change that. You’re hard enough for me to find.”

“You’re a fine one to talk,” I said. “I can never catch you in the same place twice.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you’re
always
looking for me,” she said dismissively, then broke into an excited grin. “But that’s beside the point. Come on. I’m sure this will distract you.” She began to walk faster, tugging at my arm.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself smiling as I followed her through the twisting streets of Imre.

Eventually we came to a small storefront. Denna stepped in front of me, almost bouncing with excitement. All signs of her weeping were gone and her eyes were bright. She put her cool hands over my face. “Close your eyes,” she said. “It’s a surprise!”

I closed my eyes, and she led me by the hand for a few steps. The inside of the shop was dim and smelled of leather. I heard a man’s voice say, “Is this him, then?” followed by the hollow sound of things moving around.

“Are you ready?” Denna said into my ear. I could hear the smile in her voice. Her breath tickled the hairs on the back of my neck.

“I have no idea,” I said honestly.

I felt the breath of her stifled laugh on my ear. “Okay. Open them.”

I opened my eyes and saw a lean older man standing behind a long wooden counter. An empty lute case lay open like a book in front of him. Denna had bought me a present. A case for my lute. A case for my stolen lute.

I took a step closer. The empty case was long and slender, covered in smooth black leather. There were no hinges. Seven bright steel clasps circled the edge so the top lifted off like the lid of a box.

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