“I don't want to try the Skill-pillar at all.”

“Um.” I made a sound of agreement. “But eventually, we have to. I cannot leave Thick with the Black Man forever. And I told Chade that we would be on the beach, ready to greet the ship when it arrived. That should be in, oh, in about five days. I think.” I had lost track of time in the ice labyrinth. I tried to be concerned about it. I had blocked all Skill-contact with the coterie since our failed healing attempt. Several times, I'd felt vague scratching at my door, but I'd determinedly ignored them. They were probably concerned for me. I said aloud, to convince myself, “I have a life to get back to.”

“I don't.” The Fool sounded rather satisfied about that. That encouraged me. There were still moments in the day when he halted, motionless, as if listening for futures that no longer beckoned to him. I wondered what it was like for him. For his entire life, he'd endeavored to set the track of time into the path that he perceived as best. And he had achieved that; we lived in the future that he had devised. I think he alternated between satisfaction with the future he had created and anxiety about his role in it. When he gave thought to such things. Sometimes he simply sat, his damaged hands cradled in his lap as he looked at the soil just beyond his knees. His eyes were afar then, his breathing so slow and shallow that his chest scarce moved with it. I knew that when he sat so, he was trying to make sense of things that were inherently senseless. I did not try to talk him out of it. But I did try, as now, to be optimistic about the days to come.

“That's right. You don't have a life that you must return to; no burden to take up, no harness to resume. You died. See how pleasant it can be, to have died? Once you've died, no one expects you to be a king. Or a prophet.”

He propped himself up on one elbow. “You speak from experience.” He spoke pensively, ignoring my jesting tone.

I grinned. “I do.”

He eased himself back onto my cloak beside me and stared up at the sky. He had not smiled. I followed his gaze. The stars were fading. I rolled away from him and came lightly to my feet. “Time to hunt soon. Dawn is coming. Do you feel strong enough to come with me?”

I had to wait for his answer. Then he shook his head. “In all honesty, no. I'm more tired than ever I've been in my life. What did you do to my body? I've never felt this weak and battered.”

You've never been tortured to death before. That did not seem a good answer to give him, so I stepped aside from it. “I think it will take you time to recover, that's all. If you had a bit more flesh on your bones, we could use the Skill to heal you.”

“No.” He flatly forbade it. I let it go by.

“In any case, I'm tired of Outislander travel rations, and we haven't much left of them anyway. Some fresh meat would do you good. Which I shan't get for you by lazing here. If you want it cooked, try to wake the fire before I get back.”

“Very well,” he agreed quietly.

I hunted poorly that dawn. Concern for the Fool clouded my thoughts. I nearly stepped on one rabbit and it still managed to elude my frantic spring. Luckily, there were fish in the stream, fat and silver and easy to tickle. I came back in the early light, wet to the shoulders, with four of them. We ate them as the sun grew strong, and then I insisted we walk together to the stream to wash the smoky grease from our hands and faces. Belly full, I was ready to sleep after that, but the Fool was pensive. He sat by the fire and poked at it. The third time that he sighed, I rolled over onto my back and asked him, “What?”

“I can't go back.”

“Well, you can't stay here. It's a pleasant enough place now, but take my word for it. Winter here is hard.”

“And you speak from experience.”

I smiled. “I was a couple of valleys away from here. But yes, again, experience.”

He admitted, “For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do. You have carried me forward, to a place in time that is past my death. Every day when I awaken, I am shocked. I have no idea what will happen to me next. I don't know what I should be doing with my life. I feel like a boat cut loose and left to drift.”

“Is that so terrible? Drift for a time. Rest, and grow strong. Most of us long for a place in our lives to do that.”

He sighed again. “I don't know how. I've never felt like this before. I can't decide if it's bad or good. I've no idea what to do with this extra life you've given me.”

“Well, you could probably stay here for the rest of the summer, if you learned to fish for yourself and hunt a bit. But you cannot hide forever from your life and friends. Eventually, you must face it again.”