It required all my self-discipline to take my eyes off the scarlet Elderling. I looked down and carefully sheathed my blade as if it were an unfamiliar act. Then I smiled genially up at him, just a harmless emissary.

Another Elderling had come to join the dragon. He stood beside the powerful creature and despite his height, the dragon dwarfed him. This Elderling was lightly scaled in green and silver and he reached out a hand to touch the dragon’s shoulder. The green dragon abruptly advanced two steps. He took in our scent again and said, “One of them is dragon-claimed. I smell it on him.” The immense head on the thickly muscled neck twisted. “A dragon I have not smelled before,” he said, as if dredging his memory for a name. “A dragon unseen by us. Does he live yet?” The head with its spinning silver eyes canted in the other direction, but his gaze remained fixed on me.

The militant red Elderling’s gleaming eyes narrowed as he regarded us. “An unknown dragon? Which of you belongs to a dragon?”

How to answer that? I retreated toward truth. “I do not understand the terms you use. Please. If you will escort us to where we can await audience with your rulers, I am sure all will be made clear.”

“I am sure it will,” he said after a long pause, but his voice was neither warm nor welcoming.

Chapter Thirty-Six

An Elderling Welcome

Select your Skill-couriers by these traits. First, let each courier be at least of journeyman status. Select for independence. Both arrogance and stubbornness may be seen as a virtue for this assignment. A highly developed sense of self is an asset for a courier. Vanity is sometimes a helpful marker, for the vain woman or conceited man is ever self-aware. Youth and a hearty constitution are also advantages.

A courier should serve no more than three years, with two years of rest between each year of service. A specific route of pillars should be assigned and the courier should travel the same routes over and over. Thus will his sense of place become well developed. The Skill-user who knows where he is going and recognizes where he is when he arrives is better able to maintain his self intact.

If the courier is strong enough to serve as an escort for the unSkilled, see that he is patient and responsible. Let those he guides always rest for at least three days between each leg of a journey.

—Arrow, of Gantry’s Coterie, writing about the qualities of a courier

I kept my diplomat’s poise and swept him a bow. “We are so grateful to you. I am Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, of the Six Duchies. Lord Lant Fallstar accompanies me, and our serving lad, Perseverance of Withywoods.”

As I introduced them, Lant sheathed his blade and made a far more elegant bow than I could ever have mastered, one that involved much sweeping of his cloak. I smothered a smile as Perseverance made a brave attempt to copy him. I gestured casually at our tumbled baggage. “Perhaps you could arrange for our things to be brought with us? The bear made short work of our picketed horses, and did great damage to our bags.” This was the gamble I was most reluctant to take. I knew that I would have taken an opportunity to search the baggage of any strangers who had mysteriously appeared inside the walls of Buckkeep Castle. The red fellow looked down at us in disapproval bordering on disdain.

“We keep no slaves here. As you have carried them this far, a bit farther will not hurt you.”

“Very well.” I tried to conceal my relief. “And, sir, I do not recall that you favored us with your name?”

A subtle reminder that I would know who he was and would perhaps speak of him to his queen. He had not sheathed his weapon and he did not look daunted by my request. “I am General Rapskal, leader of the Kelsingra Militia. Gather your things. I will take you to my rulers.”

I glanced back at the dragon and his keeper. The Elderling said something to him and then hastened away. The dragon apparently decided we were not interesting. He turned and lumbered off in a different direction. In the distance, I heard a crow caw.

And so we loaded up with our heavy packs once more. I saw no sign of the butterfly cloak and what it concealed, and I took care not to look for it. I had heard Spark speak when we arrived; perhaps that meant she was not in too poor a condition. Realizing one makeshift pack seemed to be missing, I gave a quick glance round, hoping it was under the cloak and not lost to the Skill-passage. Ah, well: Its absence allowed me to be mostly unencumbered and properly aristocratic as we were marched through Kelsingra.

It was a strange experience for me. I raised my Skill-walls and still the city spoke to me of a sunny winter day from its youth. A huddle of human merchants hastened past me, traders from some far city perhaps. They stayed close together and walked swiftly, glancing all about them as they passed us. A youth with a heavy line of scales on his brow and lizard-like wattles along his jaw swept the walkway outside a shop where meat hung on hooks over smoky fires. A girl with a basket on her arm passed us at a trot. Interspersed among these mundane forms, the ghosts of Elderlings strode and laughed and haggled with one another. I wondered if it was my Skill that made them seem so real. A sudden fistfight broke out between two of them and I instinctively moved away from it. “So. You can see them,” Rapskal observed. He did not slow for the ancient altercation, and I did not reply to him.