Do you long to sleep in a stuffy room mounded with blankets? Is that how you would squander a night such as this? Save - Ê sleep for when the sunlight can warm you, save sleep for when the game is hidden in den or burrow. Hunt now, my clumsy one. Hunt with me! Prove yourself. Learn to be one with me, think as I do, move as I do, or lose me forever.

I started to go after her. My thoughts snagged on something, delaying me. There was something I must do, right now. Something I must tell someone, right now. Startled, I halted where I stood. The thought divided me. Part of me had to go, had to hunt at her heels before she left me behind. But another part of me stood still. I must tell him now. Right now. I peeled myself free, separating while holding on to the knowledge I had gained. It flickered in my grasp, threatening to become the nonsense of a fading dream. I gripped the thought, letting all else fade. Hold it. Say it out loud. Cling to the word, cling tight to the thought. Don't let it go, don't let it melt away with the dream.

“Galeton!”

I said the word aloud, sitting upright in my bed in the stifling darkness. My shirt stuck to me with sweat and the Skillheadache had returned with clanging bells attached to it. It didn't matter. I lurched from my bed and began a patting search of the invisible walls. “Galeton,” I said aloud, lest the word slip from my grasp. “Prince Dutiful hunts near Galeton.”

LAUREL

There is a certain black stone, often finely veined with white or silver threading, that was extensively used by the Elderlings in their architecture. At least one quarry for this stone exists in the wild lands beyond the Mountain Kingdom, but it is almost certain that other sources for it exist, for it is difficult to even imagine how it might otherwise have been used in such large buildings in so many farflung locations. It was used, not only in the construction of their buildings, but also in the monoliths they raised at certain crossroads. Due to several odd qualities of the roads that the Elderlings designed, it can be deduced that a ground or graveled form of the stone was also instrumental in their creation. Wherever the Elderlings built, this stone was a favored instrument, and even in the places that they seemed to have visited only sporadically, monuments of this stone are found. A close scrutiny of the Witness Stones ofBuckkeep will convince the examiner that, although defaced by harsh weather or perhaps intentionally vandalized by men in ages past, the stone is of the same type. Some have suggested that the Witness Stones of Buckkeep and other “oath stones” throughout the Six Duchies were originally raised by the Elderlings for a very different purpose.

I awoke in Chade's great fourposter bed in the tower chamber. I knew a few moments of disorientation before deciding this was not another dream. I was truly awake. I did not recall going to sleep, only sitting down on the side of the bed for a few moments. I was still dressed in yesterday's clothing. I sat up cautiously; the hammers and anvils in my head u had subsided to a monotonous drumming. The room appeared empty, but someone had been there recently. Wash water steamed near the hearth, and a small covered dish of porridge kept warm near it. As soon as I discovered these items, I put them to good use. My stomach was still reluctant to accept food, but I ate stoically, knowing it was for the best. I washed, put on a kettle for tea, and then wandered down to the worktable. A large map of Buck was unfurled across it. The corners were weighted with a mortar and two pestles and a teacup. An inverted wineglass rested on the map itself. When I lifted it, I found Galeton underneath it. It was on a tributary of the Buck River, northwest of Buck and on the other side of the river from Buckkeep. I had never been there. I tried to recall what I knew of Galeton and swiftly did so. Absolutely nothing.

My Wit alerted me to Chade's presence, and I turned as the hidden door swung open. He entered briskly. The tops of his cheeks were pink with the morning, and his white hair gleamed silver. Nothing invigorated the old man so much as fresh intrigue. “Ah, you're up. Excellent,” he greeted me. “I managed to arrange an early breakfast with Lord Golden, despite the absence of his servingman. He assured me that he could be ready to travel in a few hours. He's already concocted an excuse for the trip.” “What?” I asked him, befuddled. Chade laughed aloud. “Bird feathers, of all things. Lord Golden has a number of interesting hobbies, but his most current fascination is feathers. The larger and brighter the better. Galeton borders on a wooded upland, and has a reputation for pheasants, grouse, and whiptails. The latter have rather extravagant plumage, especially their tail feathers. He's already sent a runner on ahead to Lady Bresinga of Galeton, entreating hospitality from her while on his quest. It won't be refused. Lord Golden is the most popular novelty that Buckkeep Court has seen in a decade. Having him guest at her manor will be a social coup for her.”