The Wise Man's Fear Part 21

"And that,"Wilem said grimly, "is why you never want a sympathist to get a drop of your blood."

Denna looked at Wilem, then back to the gla.s.s, her face going pale.

"Black hands, Wil," Simmon said with a horrified look. "What a thing to say." He looked at Denna. "No sympathist would ever do something like that," he said earnestly. "It's called malfeasance, and we don't do it. Ever."

Denna managed a smile, though it was a bit strained. "If no one ever does it, why is there a name for it?"

"They used to," I said. "But not anymore. Not for a hundred years."

I let the binding go and the wine stopped boiling. Denna reached out and touched the nearby bottle. "Why doesn't this wine boil too?" she asked, puzzled. "It's the same wine."

I tapped my temple. "The Alar. My mind provides the focus and direction."

"If that's a good link," she asked, "what's a bad one?"

"Here, let me show you." I pulled out my purse, guessing coins would seem less alarming after Wilem's comment. "Sim, do you have a hard penny?"

He did, and I arranged two lines of coins on the table in front of Denna. I pointed to a pair of iron drabs and murmured a binding. "Lift it up," I said.

She picked up one drab and the other followed it.

I pointed to the second pair: a drab and my single remaining silver talent. "Now that one."

Denna picked up the second drab and the talent followed it into the air. She moved both hands up and down like the arms of a scale. "This second one's heavier."

I nodded. "Different metals. They're less similar, so you have to put more energy into it." I pointed to the drab and the silver penny and muttered a third binding.

Denna put the first two drabs into her left hand, and picked up the third in her right. The silver penny followed it into the air. She nodded to herself. "And this one's heavier still because it's a different shape and and a different metal." a different metal."

"Exactly," I said. I pointed to the fourth and final pair: a drab and a piece of chalk.

Denna almost couldn't get her fingers underneath the drab to pick it up. "It's heavier than all the others together," she said. "It's got to be three pounds!"

"Iron to chalk is a lousy link, "Wilem said. "Bad transference."

"But you said energy couldn't be created or destroyed," Denna said. "If I have to struggle to lift this tiny piece of chalk, where does the extra energy go?"

"Clever," Wilem chuckled. "So clever. I went a year before I thought to ask that." He eyed her in admiration. "Some energy is lost into the air." He waved one hand. "Some goes into the objects themselves, and some goes into the body of the sympathist who is controlling the link." He frowned. "That can get dangerful."

"Dangerous," Simmon corrected gently.

Denna looked at me. "So right now you're believing each of these drabs is connected to each of these other things?"

I nodded.

She moved her hands around. The coins and chalk bobbed in the air. "Isn't that ... hard?"

"It is," Wilem said. "But our Kvothe is a bit of a showoff."

"That's why I've been so quiet," Sim said. "I didn't know you could hold four bindings at once. That's impressive as h.e.l.l."

"I can do five if I need to," I said. "But that's pretty much my limit."

Sim smiled at Denna. "One more thing. Watch this!" He pointed at the floating piece of chalk.

Nothing happened.

"Come on," Sim said plaintively. "I'm trying to show her something."

"Then show her," I said smugly, leaning back in my chair.

Sim took a deep breath and stared hard at the piece of chalk. It trembled.

Wil leaned close to Denna and explained. "One sympathist can oppose another's Alar," he said. "It is just a matter of firmly believing that a drab is not not the same as a silver penny at all." the same as a silver penny at all."

Wil pointed, and the penny clattered to the tabletop.

"Foul," I protested, laughing. "Two on one isn't fair."

"It is in this case," Simmon said, and the chalk trembled again.

"Fine," I said, taking a deep breath. "Do your worst."

The chalk dropped to the table quickly, followed by the drab. But the silver talent stayed where it was.

Sim sat back in his chair. "You're creepy," he said, shaking his head. "Fine, you win. "Wilem nodded and relaxed as well.

Denna looked at me. "So your Alar is stronger than theirs put together?"

"Probably not," I said graciously. "If they had practice working together they could probably beat me."

Her eyes ranged over the scattered coins. "So that's it?" she asked, sounding slightly disappointed. "It's all just energy moneychanging?"

"There are other arts," I said. "Sim does alchemy, for example."

"While I," Wilem said, "focus on being pretty."

Denna looked us over again, her eyes serious. "Is there a type of magic that's just ..." She wiggled her fingers vaguely. "Just sort of writing things down?"

"There's sygaldry," I said. "Like that bell in your room. It's like permanent sympathy."

"But it's still moneychanging, right?" she asked. "Just energy?"

I nodded.

Denna looked embarra.s.sed as she asked, "What if someone told you they knew a type of magic that did more than that? A magic where you sort of wrote things down, and whatever you wrote became true?"

She looked down nervously, her fingers tracing patterns on the tabletop. "Then, if someone saw the writing, even if they couldn't read it, it would be true for them. They'd think a certain thing, or act a certain way depending on what the writing said." She looked up at us again, her expression a strange mix of curiosity, hope, and uncertainty.

The three of us looked at each other. Wilem shrugged.

"Sounds a d.a.m.n sight easier than alchemy," Simmon said. "I'd rather do that than spend all day unbinding principles."

"Sounds like faerie-tale magic," I said. "Storybook stuff that doesn't really exist. I certainly never heard about anything like that at the University."

Denna looked down at the tabletop where her fingers still traced patterns against the wood. Her mouth was pursed slightly, her eyes distant.

I couldn't tell if she was disappointed or simply thoughtful. "Why do you ask?"

Denna looked up at me and her expression quickly slid into a wry smile. She shrugged away the question. "It was just something I heard," she said dismissively. "I thought it sounded too good to be true."

She looked over her shoulder. "I seem to have outlasted my overenthusiastic suitor," she said.

Wil held up the flat of his hand. "We had an arrangement," he said. "There was drink involved, and a woman's secret."

"I'll have a word with the barman before I leave," Denna said, her eyes dancing with amus.e.m.e.nt. "As for the secret: There are two ladies sitting behind you. They've been making eyes at you for most of the evening. The one in green fancies Sim, while the one with short blond hair seems to have a thing for Cealdish men who focus on being pretty."

"We have already made note of them," Wilem said without turning to look. "Unfortunately, they are already in the company of a young Modegan gentleman."

"The gentleman is not with with them in any romantic sense," Denna said. "While the ladies have been eyeing you, the gentleman has been making it abundantly clear that he prefers redheads." She lay her hand on my arm possessively. "Unfortunately for him, I have already staked my claim." them in any romantic sense," Denna said. "While the ladies have been eyeing you, the gentleman has been making it abundantly clear that he prefers redheads." She lay her hand on my arm possessively. "Unfortunately for him, I have already staked my claim."

I fought the urge to look at the table. "Are you serious?" I asked.

"Don't worry," she said to Wil and Sim. "I'll send Deoch over to distract the Modegan. That will leave the door open for the two of you."

"What's Deoch going to do?" Simmon said with a laugh. "Juggle?"

Denna gave him a frank look.

"What?" Simmon said. "Wh ... Deoch isn't sly."

Denna blinked at him. "He and Stanchion own the Eolian together," she said. "Didn't you know that?"

"They own the place," Sim said. "They're not, you know, together together."

Denna laughed. "Of course they are."

"But Deoch is up to his neck in women," Simmon protested. "He ... he can't-"

Denna looked at him as if he were simple, then to Wil and myself. "The two of you knew, didn't you?"

Wilem shrugged. "I hadn't any knowledge of it. But small wonder he is a Basha Basha. He is attractive enough." Wil hesitated, frowned. "Basha. What is a word for that here? A man who is intimate with both women and men?"

"Lucky?" Denna suggested. "Tired? Ambidextrous?"

"Ambis.e.xtrous," I corrected.

"That won't do," Denna chided me. "If we don't have impressive sounding names for things, no one will take us seriously."

Sim blinked at her, obviously unable to come to grips with the situation.

"You see," Denna said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "It's all just energy. And we can direct it in different ways." She blossomed into a brilliant smile, as if realizing the perfect way to explain the situation to him. "It's like when you do this." She began to vigorously rub her hands up and down her thighs, mimicking his earlier motion. "It's all just energy."

By this point Wilem was hiding his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Simmon's expression was still incredulous and confused, but now it was also a furious, blus.h.i.+ng red.

I got to my feet and took Denna's elbow. "Leave the poor boy alone," I said as I steered her gently toward the door. "He's from Atur. They're laced a little tightly in those parts."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Gentlemen and Thieves IT WAS LATE WHEN Denna and I left the Eolian, and the streets were empty. In the distance I heard fiddle music and the hollow clopping of a horse's hooves on cobblestones.

"So what rock have you been hiding under?" she asked.

"The usual rock," I said, then a thought occurred to me. "Did you come looking for me at the University? At the big square building that smells like coal smoke?"

Denna shook her head. "I wouldn't begin to know where to find you there. It's like a maze. If I can't catch you playing at Anker's, I know I'm out of luck." She looked at me curiously. "Why?"

"Someone showed up asking for me," I said with a dismissive gesture. "She said I'd sold her a charm. I thought it might be you."

"I did come looking for you a while back," she said. "But I never mentioned your abundant charm."

The conversation lulled and silence swelled between us. I couldn't help but think of her walking arm in arm with Ambrose. I didn't want to know any more about it, but at the same time, it was the only thing in my head.

"I came to visit you at the Grey Man," I said, just to fill the air between us. "But you'd already gone."

She nodded. "Kellin and I had a bit of a falling out."

"Nothing too bad, I hope." I gestured to her throat. "I notice you still have the necklace."

Denna touched the teardrop emerald absentmindedly. "No. Nothing terrible. You can say this for Kellin, he's a traditionalist. When he gives a gift, he sticks to it. He said the color flattered me, and I should keep the earrings too." She sighed. "I'd feel better if he hadn't been so gracious. Still, they're nice to have. A safety net of sorts. They'll make my life easier if I don't hear from my patron soon."

"You're still hoping to hear from him?" I asked. "After what happened in Trebon? After he's been out of contact for more than a month with no word at all?"

Denna shrugged. "That's just his way. I told you, he's a secretive sort. It's not odd for him to be gone for long stretches of time."

"I have a friend who is trying to find me a patron," I said. "I could have him look for you too."

She looked up at me, her eyes unreadable. "It's sweet that you think I deserve better, but I really don't. I have a good voice, but that's it. Who would hire a half-trained musician without even an instrument to her name?"

"Anyone with ears to hear you," I said. "Anyone with eyes to see."

Denna looked down, her hair falling around her face like a curtain. "You're sweet," she said quietly, making an odd fidgeting gesture with her hands.