“You understand that Deerkin still has ties to those in the Piebalds. They try to lure him back. He must . . . pretend to side with them. To protect our family. He walks a thin and dangerous line. He hears things that are very dangerous for him to repeat, and yet he has sent word.” Her words trickled away. She stared at the obscured window as if she could truly see what was beyond it.

I knew what she was trying to express. “You should speak to the Queen. Tell her that Deerkin must appear a traitor to the crown for the sake of keeping your family safe. Will you flee, as he bids you?”

She shook her head slowly. “Flee where? To my family? Then I plunge them into more danger. Here, at least, the Piebalds must reach into danger’s mouth to extract me. I will stay here and serve my queen.”

I wondered if Chade would be able to protect her, let alone her cousin.

Her voice was flat when she spoke again. “Deerkin hears hints that the Piebalds are forming an alliance with outsiders. ‘Powerful folk who would be happy to destroy the Farseers and leave Laudwine’s folk in power.’ ” She gave me a worried glance. “That sounds like a silly boast, doesn’t it? It couldn’t be real, could it?”

“Best tell the Queen,” I said, and hoped she could not hear that I did think it possible. I knew I would take the tale to Chade.

“And you?” she asked me. “Will you flee? I think you should. For you would make a fine example of the Piebalds’ power. Exposed, you would illustrate that there are Witted even within the walls of Buckkeep. Quartered and burned, you would be a fine example to other traitors to the Old Blood, that those who deny and betray their own kind are in turn betrayed by them.”

She was not herself Witted. Her cousin was. Even though the magic ran in her family blood, she had no love for the Wit or those who used their magic. Like most Six Duchies folk, she regarded my ability to sense animals and bond with a beast as a despicable magic. Perhaps her use of the word “traitor” should have carried less sting because of that, yet the contempt of the message burned me.

“I am not a traitor to my Old Blood. I but keep my oath where it was sworn, to the Farseers. If Old Blood had not tried to harm the Prince, it would not have been necessary for me to wrest him back from them.”

Laurel spoke flatly. “Those are the words of my cousin’s message to me. Not mine. He sent me those words so that I might warn the Queen, partly because he feels a debt to me. But also because she is the most tolerant of Old Blood of any recent Farseer reign we have known. He would not see her shamed and her influence lessened. I suspect he thinks she would rid herself of you if she knew you could be used against her. I know her better. She will not heed my warning and send you away from Buckkeep before you can be used against her.”

So. That was her real message for me. “Then you think that would be best for all? If I simply removed myself, without her having to ask me to leave.”

She gazed past me, spoke past me. “You suddenly appeared from nowhere. Perhaps it were best if you returned there.”

For an instant, I actually toyed with the notion. I could go downstairs, saddle Myblack, and ride off. Hap was safely apprenticed, and Chade would see that he remained so. I had been reluctant to teach Dutiful the Skill, let alone what I knew of the Wit. Perhaps this was the simplest solution for all of us. I could disappear. But.

“I did not come to Buckkeep at my own desire. I came at my queen’s behest. And so do I stay. Nor would my departure remove the danger to her. Laudwine and his followers know the Prince is Witted.”

“I thought you would say as much,” Laurel conceded. “And for all I know, perhaps you are right. Yet I will still pass on my warning to the Queen.”

“You would be remiss if you did not. Yet I thank you for taking the time to seek me out and pass on this warning to me, as well. I know I gave Deerkin little reason to think well of me. I am willing to let all that occurred between us fade into the past. If you have the chance, I ask you to pass that message on to him. That I bear no ill will to him, or to any that follow the true Old Blood ways. But I must always put my service to the Farseers first.”

“As do I,” she responded grimly.

“You say nothing of Laudwine’s intentions toward Prince Dutiful.”

“Because Deerkin’s message said nothing of that. So my only answer is, I don’t know.”

“I see.”

And there seemed nothing else to say to one another. I let her leave first so we would not be seen together. I lingered in the old rooms longer than I needed to. Beneath the dust on the windowsill, I could just glimpse the track of my boyhood’s idle knife. I looked up at the slanting ceiling over the spot where my pallet had been. I could still see the owl shape in the twisted grain of the wood there. There was little left here of Burrich or of me. Time and other occupants had obliterated us from the room. I left it, dragging the door closed behind me.