I chose my words carefully. “My lady, I think it as likely that it came from his father as from you. And ultimately, it matters little where it came from. Even now, to possess the Wit can bring—”
“It mattered to me,” she said in a low voice. “And it matters still. What I felt between Nighteyes and me was not imaginary. If I had realized that during our sojourn in the Mountains, I would have let him know what that support meant to me.”
“He knew,” I said, recklessly interrupting her. “He knew, never fear.”
I saw her take a breath, her breast rising and falling with the emotion she contained. Her Mountain training was all that kept her from berating me. Instead, she said quietly, “Sometimes thanking someone is more important to the person giving the thanks than the one who receives it.”
“I’m sorry.” Words I was heartily sick of saying. “But we were struggling with so much else. I had only the barest understanding of the Wit then, and even my grasp of what the Skill could be was tenuous. If I had told you that I suspected you were Witted, then what? I certainly could not have taught you how to manage a magic that I did not myself control well.”
“I understand that,” she said. “But nonetheless I think my life has been less fulfilling than it might have been.” In a lower voice she added, “And much lonelier.”
I had no response. It was true. I had known of the loneliness that devoured her once King Verity was transformed into a stone dragon and taken from her forever. Could an animal companion have helped her to bear that? Probably. Yet it had never occurred to me to tell her that I had sensed a feeble pulsing of the Wit in her. I had always believed it so slight that it did not matter. Unlike myself, where the Wit had demanded from my earliest childhood that I find a soul to share my life. I moved slowly across the room and sat down at the low table. Kettricken came to take her place. She spoke to me in a calmer voice as she picked up her cup. “Web tells me that it is not too late. But also not a thing for me to rush into.”
I nodded and sipped from my own cup. Was this discussion why she had summoned me? I could not imagine where it was leading.
Web looked up at Kettricken. “The bond must be mutually beneficial,” he said. He darted a glance at me as he continued, “Kettricken’s duties often confine her to the castle. Were she to bond with a large animal, or a wild creature, it would limit their time together. So I have suggested to her that she consider beasts that would be comfortable sharing her lifestyle. Cats. Dogs.”
“Ferrets. Parrots,” I pointed out, relieved to move the conversation to a different arena.
“And that is why I’ve a favor to ask of you, Fitz,” Web said abruptly.
Startled, I met his gaze.
“I know you will say no, but I am pressed to ask you anyway. There is no one else who can help her.”
I looked at Kettricken in dismay, wondering what she needed.
“No. Not Lady Kettricken,” Web assured me.
My heart sank. “Then who is she and what does she need?”
“She’s a crow. If you two come to an understanding, she’ll share her name with you.”
“Web, I—”
He spoke over my objection. “She has been alone for about six months. She was sent to me, seeking my help. She was hatched with a defect. When she fledged out, several of her pinions in each wing were white. At an early age, she was driven out of her murder. Assaulted and badly injured by her own family, she was found by an elderly shepherd. He took her in and helped her heal. For eight years they were companions. Recently, he died. But before he died, he contacted me and then sent her on to me.”
He paused, waiting for the question he knew I would ask.
“She left her Wit-partner?” I was incredulous at such faithlessness.
Web shook his head. “The shepherd was not Witted. He was simply a man with a kind heart. And due in no small part to the efforts of the Farseer crown, he was able to reach out to the Old Blood community to find her a new home. No, don’t speak, let me finish my tale. Crows are social creatures. If she is forced to live a solitary life, she will go mad. Furthermore, with her striped wings, she cannot join other crows. They will turn on her for her differences. And finally, she does not seek a Wit-bond, only a human companion. For company and for protection.”
Kettricken dropped words into my silence. “It seems the perfect fit to both of us.”
I drew breath to respond and then sighed it out silently. I knew why Web could not take her on. Nor could Lady Kettricken be seen with a crow upon her shoulder: Battlefield scavenger and bird of ill omen, a crow companion would not do for her. I already knew I would not do it. I would find someone else, but for now, instead of outright refusing, I said, “I will think about it.”
“You should,” Web approved. “Even simple companionship with an animal is not a thing to take lightly. A crow can live a score of years, and it is not unheard of for one to reach thirty. Having met her, I judge you two would be well matched in temperament.”
Knowing what Web thought of my temperament, I was more convinced than ever that I wanted nothing to do with that bird. I would find her an appropriate companion. Perhaps Tallerman would not mind a crow in the stables at Withywoods. So I nodded without speaking.
They both took it as surrender. Kettricken poured more tea, and the next hour passed with us speaking of old times. Web told perhaps too many stories of Soar, but Kettricken and I both understood. And from those stories, it was natural that the talk turned to Old Blood, and Kettricken’s feeble command of the Wit-magic and what it might mean. What it had meant to her she shared more fully now: She had reached out to my wolf and he had accepted that faint connection. His friendship had sustained her more than I had realized.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Kettricken asked if Bee had either the Wit or the Skill. I cannot say why it was so unsettling for her to ask that question. Certainly I had few secrets left from either of them. Yet in some odd way, Bee felt like a secret, something private and precious that I did not want to share. I had to fight not to lie. I told them that as far as I could determine, my little daughter possessed neither of those magics in any strength. At most, she could sense the Skill in Nettle and me, but I received no sense of it from her. Then I added that, as young as she was, it was hard to tell such a thing.
Web quirked an eyebrow. “Usually the Wit manifests young in children. She has shown no predilection for bonding with an animal? No intrinsic understanding of their ways?”
I shook my head. “But, to be honest, I’ve kept her away from such dangers. I know what it is to bond too young and without guidance.”
Web frowned. “So there are no animals in her life?”
I hesitated, trying to decide what answer he would like to hear. I pushed myself toward the truth. “She has been learning to ride her horse. At an early age, when we first tried to teach her, she seemed uncomfortable with such an idea. Frightened, even. But of late, she has made good progress. She does not dislike animals. She likes kittens. The shepherd’s dog likes her.”
Web was nodding slowly. He looked at Kettricken when he said, “When she arrives, I would like to speak with her. If she has inherited Old Blood from her father, then the sooner we all know, the better for her to master her magic.”
And Kettricken inclined her head gravely, as if the permission were hers to give. I felt a wave of misgiving but decided that, for now, I would say nothing. I made a note to myself that Web had known Kettricken desired to bring Bee to Buckkeep before I did. With whom else had she discussed this? I needed to find what was behind her resolution. But discreetly. Boldly, I turned the conversation. “What of the princes? Has either Prosper or Integrity shown signs of the Wit or the Skill?”