The Wise Man's Fear

by Patrick Rothfuss

  “So we’re going ahead with things tomorrow?” Mola asked.

  I nodded. “I’d rather be safe than sore.”

  Simmon poked a stick at the spot in the fire where the doll had landed. “If Mola can do her worst and it just rolls off you, it might be enough to keep Devi off your back too. Give you some breathing room.”

  There was a brief moment of silence. I held my breath, hoping Fela and Mola wouldn’t take any particular note of his comment.

  Mola raised an eyebrow at me. “Devi?”

  I glared at Simmon, and he gave me a piteous look, like a dog that knows it’s going to be kicked. “I borrowed some money from a gaelet named Devi,” I said, hoping she’d be satisfied with that.

  Mola continued to look at me. “And?”

  I sighed. Ordinarily I would have avoided the subject, but Mola tended to be insistent about this sort of thing, and I desperately needed her help for tomorrow’s plan.

  “Devi used to be a member of the Arcanum,” I explained. “I gave her some of my blood as collateral for a loan at the beginning of the term. When Ambrose started attacking me, I jumped to the wrong conclusion and accused her of malfeasance. Our relationship went sour after that.”

  Mola and Fela exchanged a look. “You do go out of your way to make life exciting, don’t you?” Mola said.

  “I already admitted it was a mistake,” I said, irritated. “What else do you want from me?”

  “Are you going to be able to pay her back?” Fela interjected into the conversation before things became heated between Mola and me.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “With a few lucky breaks and some long nights in the Fishery, I might be able to scrape enough together by the end of the term.”

  I didn’t mention the whole truth. While I might have a chance of earning enough to pay Devi back, I wouldn’t have a chance in hell of making my tuition at the same time. I didn’t want to spoil everyone’s evening with the fact that Ambrose had won. By forcing me to spend so much time hunting for a gram, he’d effectively driven me out of the University.

  Fela tilted her head to one side. “What happens if you can’t pay her?”

  “Nothing good,” Wilem said darkly. “They don’t call her Demon Devi for nothing.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “She could sell my blood. She said she knew someone willing to buy it.”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t do that,” Fela said.

  “I wouldn’t blame her,” I said. “I knew what I was getting into when I made the deal.”

  “But sh—”

  “It’s just the way the world works,” I said firmly, not wanting to dwell on it any more than necessary. I wanted the evening to end on a positive note. “I, for one, am looking forward to a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” I looked around to see Wil and Sim nodding weary agreement. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  Later that night, I slept in the luxury of my narrow bed in my tiny room. At some point I stirred awake, dragged into consciousness by the sensation of chill metal against my skin. I smiled, rolled over, and slid back into blissful sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Fire

  I PACKED MY TRAVELSACK carefully the next evening, anxious that I might forget some key piece of equipment. I was checking everything a third time when there was a knock on the door.

  I opened it to see a young boy of ten or so standing there, breathing hard. His eyes darted to my hair and he looked relieved. “Are you Koath?”

  “Kvothe,” I said. “And yes, I am.”

  “Got a message for you.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a bedraggled piece of paper.

  I held out my hand, and the boy took a step back, shaking his head. “The lady said you’d give me a jot for bringing it to you.”

  “I doubt that,” I said, holding out my hand. “Let me see the note. I’ll give you ha’penny if it’s really for me.”

  The boy scowled and grudgingly handed it over.

  It wasn’t even sealed, just folded over twice. It was also vaguely damp. Looking at the sweat-soaked boy, I could guess why.

  It read:Kvothe,

  Your presence is graciously requested for dinner tonight. I’ve missed you. I have exciting news. Please meet me at the Barrel and Boar at fifth bell.

  Yours,

  Denna

  Pstsrpt. I promised the boy ha’penny.

  “Fifth bell?” I demanded. “God’s black hands! How long did you take to get here? It’s past sixth bell already.”

  “That en’t my fault,” he said, scowling fiercely. “I been lookin’ all over for hours. Anchors she said. Take it to Koath at Anchors on the other side of the river. But this place en’t by the docks at all. And there en’t any anchors on the sign outside. How’s a one supposed to find this place?”

  “You ask someone!” I shouted. “Black damn boy, how thick are you?” I fought down a very real urge to strangle him and took a deep breath.

  I looked out the window at the fading light. In less than half an hour my friends would be gathering around the fire pit in the woods. I didn’t have time for a trip to Imre.

  “Right,” I said as calmly as I could manage. I dug out a stub of pencil and scratched out a note on the other side of the piece of paper.

  Denna,

  I’m terribly sorry. Your runner didn’t find me until past sixth bell. He is unutterably thick.

  I have missed you as well, and offer to put myself entirely at your disposal at any hour of the day or night tomorrow. Send the boy back with your response to let me know when and where.

  Fondly,

  Kvothe.

  Pstcrpt. If the boy tries to get any money off you, give him a sharp cuff round the ear. He’ll get his money when he returns your note to Anker’s, assuming he doesn’t get confused and eat it along the way.

  I folded it over again and pressed a blob of soft candle wax over the fold.

  I felt my purse. Over the last month I’d slowly burned through the extra two talents I’d borrowed from Devi. I’d squandered the money on luxuries like bandages, coffee, and the materials for tonight’s plan.

  As a result, all I had to my name was four pennies and a lonely shim. I shouldered my travelsack and motioned for the boy to follow me downstairs.

  I nodded to Anker standing behind the bar, then turned to the boy. “Okay,” I said. “You bollixed things up getting here, but I’m going to give you a chance to make it right.” I pulled out three pennies and held them out for him to see. “You head back to the Barrel and Boar, find the woman who sent you, and you give her this.” I held up the note. “She’ll send back a reply. You bring it here and give it to him.” I pointed to Anker. “And he’ll give you the money.”

  “I en’t an idiot,” the boy said. “I want ha’penny first.”

  “I en’t an idiot either,” I said. “You’ll get three whole pennies when you bring her note back.”

  He glared at me, then nodded sullenly. I handed him the note, and he ran out the door.

  “Boy seemed a little addled when he came in here,” Anker said.

  I shook my head. “He’s witless as a sheep,” I said. “I wouldn’t use him at all, but he knows what she looks like.” I sighed and put the three pennies on the bar. “You’d be doing me a favor if you read the note to make sure the boy isn’t faking.”

  Anker gave me a bit of an uncomfortable look. “And what if it’s of an, um, personal nature?”

  “Then I’ll dance a merry little jig,” I said. “But between the two of us, I hardly think that’s likely.”

  The sun had set by the time I made it into the forest. Wilem was already there, kindling a fire in the wide pit. We worked together for a quarter hour, gathering enough wood to keep a bonfire burning for hours.

  Simmon arrived a few minutes later dragging a long section of dead branch. The three of us broke it into pieces and made nervous small talk until Fela came out of the trees.

  Her long
hair was pinned up, leaving her elegant neck and shoulders bare. Her eyes were dark and her mouth was slightly redder than usual. Her long black gown was gathered close at her narrow waist and well-rounded hips. She was also displaying the most spectacular pair of breasts I’d ever seen at that point in my young life.

  We all gaped, but Simmon gaped openly. “Wow,” he said. “I mean, you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen before this. I didn’t think there was any further for you to go.” He laughed his boyish laugh and gestured at her with both hands. “Look at you. You’re incredible!”

  Fela flushed and looked away, obviously pleased.

  “You have the hardest part tonight,” I said to her. “I hate to ask, but . . .”

  “But you’re the only irresistibly attractive woman we know,” Simmon chimed in. “Our backup plan was to stuff Wilem into a dress. Nobody wants that.”

  Wilem nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Only for you.” Fela’s mouth quirked into an ironic smile. “When I said I owed you a favor, I never guessed you’d ask me to go out on a date with another man.” The smile went a little sour. “Especially Ambrose.”

  “You only need to put up with him for an hour or two. Try to get him into Imre if you can, but anywhere at least a hundred yards from the Pony will do.”

  Fela sighed. “At least I’ll get dinner out of this.” She looked at Simmon. “I like your boots.”

  He grinned. “They’re new.”

  I turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Mola was the only one of us not here, but I heard murmured voices mixed with the footsteps and gritted my teeth. It was probably a pair of young lovers out enjoying the unseasonably warm weather.

  The group of us couldn’t be seen together, not tonight. It would raise too many questions. I was just about to rush out to intercept them when I recognized Mola’s voice. “Just wait here while I explain,” she said. “Please. Just wait. It will make things easier.”

  “Let him pitch a twelve-color fit.” A familiar female voice came out of the darkness. “Let him shit out his liver for all I care.”

  I stopped in my tracks. I knew the second voice, but I couldn’t put my finger on who it belonged to.

  Mola emerged from the dark trees. At her side was a small figure with short strawberry-blond hair. Devi.

  I stood stunned as Mola came closer, holding out her hands in a placating gesture and speaking quickly. “Kvothe, I know Devi from a long while ago. She showed me the ropes back when I was new here. Back before she . . . left.”

  “Expelled,” Devi said proudly. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

  Mola continued hurriedly. “After what you said yesterday. It seemed like there was some misunderstanding. When I stopped in to ask her about it . . .” She shrugged. “The whole story kind of came out. She wanted to help.”

  “I want a piece of Ambrose,” Devi said. There was a weight of cold fury in her voice when she said his name. “My help is largely incidental.”

  Wilem cleared his throat. “Would we be correct in assuming—”

  “He beats his whores,” Devi said, interrupting him abruptly. “And if I could kill the arrogant bastard and get away with it, I would have done it years ago.” She stared flatly at Wilem. “And yes, we have a past. And no, it’s none of your business. Is that enough reason for you?”

  There was a tense silence. Wilem nodded, his face carefully blank.

  Devi turned to look at me.

  “Devi.” I made a short bow to her. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Maybe you do have half a brain in your head.”

  “I didn’t think I could trust you,” I said. “I was wrong, and I regret it. It wasn’t the clearest thinking I’ve ever done.”

  She eyed me for a long moment. “We’re not friends,” she said curtly, her expression still icy. “But if you’re still alive at the end of all this, we’ll talk.”

  Devi looked past me and her expression softened. “Little Fela!” She brushed past me and gave Fela a hug. “You’re all grown up!” She stepped back and held Fela at arm’s length, looking her over appreciatively. “My lord, you look like a ten-stripe Modegan whore! He’ll love it.”

  Fela smiled and spun a little so the bottom of her dress flared. “It is nice to have an excuse to dress up every once and a while.”

  “You should be dressing up on your own,” Devi said. “And for better men than Ambrose.”

  “I’ve been busy. I’m out of practice preening. It took me an hour to remember how to do my hair. Any advice?” She held her arms out to her sides and did a slow turn.

  Devi looked her up and down with a calculating eye. “You’re already better than he deserves. But you’re all bare. Why don’t you have any sparkle on you?”

  Fela looked down at her hands. “Rings won’t work with the gloves,” she said. “And I didn’t have anything nice enough to go with the dress.”

  “Here then,” Devi tilted her head and reached up under her hair, first on one side then the other. Then she stepped closer to Fela. “Lord you’re tall, bend down.”

  When Fela straightened up again, she was wearing a pair of earrings that swung and caught the light of the fire.

  Devi stepped back and gave an exasperated sigh. “And they look better on you, of course.” She shook her head with irritation. “Good lord woman. If I had tits like yours I’d own half the world by now.”

  “You and me both,” Sim said enthusiastically.

  Wilem burst out laughing, then covered his face and stepped away from Sim, shaking his head and doing his best to look like he didn’t have the slightest idea who was standing next to him.

  Devi looked at Sim’s unashamed, boyish grin, then back to Fela. “Who’s the idiot?”

  I caught Mola’s eye and motioned her closer so we could talk. “You didn’t need to, but thanks. It’s a relief, knowing she’s not out there plotting against me.”

  “Don’t assume,” Mola said grimly. “I’ve never seen her so angry. It just seemed a shame for the two of you to be at odds. You’re a lot alike.”

  I darted a glance across the fire pit where Wil and Sim were cautiously approaching Devi and Fela. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Wilem said, looking at Devi. “I thought you’d be taller.”

  “How’s that working out for you?” Devi asked dryly. “Thinking, I mean.”

  I waved my hands to get everyone’s attention. “It’s late,” I said. “We have to get into position.”

  Fela nodded. “I want to be there early, just in case.” She straightened her gloves nervously. “Wish me luck.”

  Mola walked over and gave her a quick hug. “It’ll be fine. Stay somewhere public with him. He’ll behave better if people are watching.”

  “Keep asking him about his poetry,” Devi advised. “He’ll talk the time away.”

  “If he gets impatient, compliment the wine,” Mola added. “Say things like, ‘Oh I’d love another glass, but I’m worried it’d go right to my head.’ He’ll buy a bottle and try and pour it into you.”

  Devi nodded. “It’ll keep him off you for an extra half-hour at least.” She reached out and pulled up the top of Fela’s dress a bit. “Start conservative, then bring them out a little more toward the end of the dinner. Lean. Use your shoulders. If he keeps seeing more and more, he’ll think he’s getting somewhere. It’ll keep him from getting grabby.”

  “This is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen,” Wilem said quietly.

  “Do all the women in the world secretly know each other?” Sim asked. “Because that would explain a lot.”

  “There’s barely a hundred of us in the Arcanum,” Devi said scathingly. “They confine us to a single wing of the Mews whether or not we actually want to live there. How can we not know each other?”

  I walked over to Fela and handed her a slender oak twig. “I’ll signal you when we’re done. You signal me if he walks out on you.” />
  Fela arched an eyebrow. “A woman could take that slightingly,” she said, then smiled and slid the twig inside one of her long black gloves. Her earrings swung and caught the light again. They were emeralds. Smooth emerald teardrops.

  “Those are lovely earrings,” I said to Devi. “Where did you come by them?”

  Her eyes narrowed, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to take offense. “A pretty young boy used them to settle his debt,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  I shrugged. “Just curious.”

  Fela waved and walked off, but before she made it ten feet Simmon caught up with her. He smiled awkwardly, talking and making a few emphatic gestures before handing her something. She smiled and tucked it into her long black glove.

  I turned to Devi. “I assume you know the plan?”

  She nodded. “How far is it to his room?”

  “A little more than half a mile,” I said apologetically. “The slippage—”

  Devi cut me off with a gesture. “I do my own calculations,” she said sharply.

  “Right.” I gestured to where my travelsack lay near the edge of the fire pit. “There’s wax and clay in there.” I handed her a slim birch twig. “I’ll signal you when we’re in position. Start with the wax. Give it a hard half-hour, then signal and move onto the clay. Give the clay at least an hour.”

  Devi snorted. “With a bonfire behind me? It’ll take me fifteen minutes, tops.”

  “It might not be tucked into his sock drawer, you realize. It might be locked away without much air.”

  Devi waved me away. “I know my business.”

  I made a half bow. “I leave it in your capable hands.”

  “That’s it?” Mola demanded indignantly. “You lectured me for an hour! You quizzed me!”

  “There isn’t time,” I said simply. “And you’ll be here to coach her if need be. Besides, Devi happens to be one of the handful of people I suspect might be a better sympathist than me.”