"I don't know." I lied so well. Chade himself had taught me. I looked into the fire. For a moment, I almost tried to explain it to him. I decided I could not. I found myself talking all around it. "Maybe I needed to get free of him. Of all he'd done for me, even when I didn't want him to do it. He has to stop doing things I can never pay him back for. Things no man should do for another, sacrifices no man should make for another man. I don't want to owe him any more. I don't want to owe anyone anything."

When Chade spoke, it was matter-of-factly. His long-fingered hands rested on his thighs, quietly, almost relaxed. But his green eyes had gone the color of copper ore, and his anger lived in them. "Ever since you came back from the Mountain Kingdom, it's been as if you were spoiling for a fight. With anyone. When you were a boy and you were sullen or sulky, I could put it down to your being a boy, with a boy's judgment and frustrations. But you came back with an… anger. Like a challenge to the world at large, to kill you if it could. It wasn't just that you threw yourself in Regal's path: whatever was most dangerous to you, you plunged yourself into. Burrich wasn't the only one to see it. Look back over the last year: every time I turned about, here was Fitz, railing at the world, in the middle of a fistfight, in the midst of a battle, wrapped up in bandaging, drunk as a fisherman, or limp as string and mewling for elfbark. When were you calm and thoughtful, when were you merry with your friends, when were you ever simply at peace? If you weren't challenging your enemies, you were driving away your friends. What happened between you and the Fool? Where is Molly now? You've just sent Burrich packing. Who's next?"

"You, I suppose." The words came out of me any way, inevitably. I did not want to speak them but I could not hold them back. It was time.

"You've moved a fair way toward that already, with the way you spoke to Burrich."

"I know that," I said bluntly. I met his eyes. "For a long time now, nothing I've done has pleased you. Or Burrich. Or anyone. I can't seem to make a good decision lately."

"I'd concur with that," Chade agreed relentlessly.

And it was back, the ember of my anger billowing into flame. "Perhaps because I've never been given the chance to make my own decisions. Perhaps because I've been everyone's 'boy' too long. Burrich's stableboy, your apprentice assassin, Verity's pet, Patience's page. When did I get to be mine, for me?" I asked the question fiercely.

"When did you not?" Chade demanded just as heatedly. "That's all you've done since you came back from the Mountains. You went to Verity to say you'd had enough of being an assassin just when quiet work was needed. Patience tried to warn you clear of Molly, but you had your way there as well. It made her a target. You pulled Patience into plots that exposed her to danger. You bonded to the wolf, despite all Burrich said to you. You questioned my every decision about King Shrewd's health. And your next-to-last stupid act at Buckkeep was to volunteer to be part of an uprising against the crown. You brought us as close to a civil war as we've been in a hundred years."

"And my last stupid act?" I asked with bitter curiosity.

"Killing Justin and Serene." He spoke a flat accusation.

"They'd just drained my king, Chade," I pointed out icily. "Killed him in my arms as it were. What was I to do?"

He stood up and somehow managed to tower over me as he had used to. "With all your years of training from me, all my schooling in quiet work, you went racing about in the keep with a drawn knife, cutting the throat of one; and stabbing the other to death in the Great Hall before all assembled nobles… My fine apprentice assassin! That was the only way you could think of to accomplish it?"

"I was angry!" I roared at him.

"Exactly!" he roared back. "You were angry. So you destroyed our power base at Buckkeep! You had the confidence of the Coastal Dukes, and you chose to show yourself to them as a madman! Shattered their last bit of faith in the Farseer line."

"A few moments ago, you rebuked me for having the confidence of those dukes."

"No. I rebuked you for putting yourself before them. You should never have let them offer you the rule of Buckkeep. Had you been doing your tasks properly, such a thought would never have occurred to them. Over and over and over again, you forget your place. You are not a prince, you are an assassin. You are not the player, you are the game-piece. And when you make your own moves, you set every other strategy awry and endanger every piece on the board!"

Not being able to think of a reply is not the same thing as accepting another's words. I glowered at him. He did not back down but simply continued to stand, looking down at me. Under the scrutiny of Chade's green stare the strength of my anger deserted me abruptly, leaving only bitterness. My secret undercurrent of fear welled once more to the surface. My resolve bled from me. I couldn't do this. I did not have the strength to defy them both. After a time, I heard myself saying sullenly, "All right. Very well. You and Burrich are right, as always. I promise I shall no longer think, I shall simply obey. What do you want me to do?"

"No." Succinct.

"No what?"

He shook his head slowly. "What has come most clear to me tonight is that I must not base anything on you. You'll get no assignment from me, nor will you be privy to my plans any longer. Those days are over." I could not grasp the finality in his voice. He turned aside from me, his eyes going afar. When he spoke again, it was not as my master, but as Chade. He looked at the wall as he spoke. "I love you, boy. I don't withdraw that from you. But you're dangerous. And what we must attempt is dangerous enough without you going berserk in the middle of it."

"What do you attempt?" I asked, despite myself.

His eyes met mine as he slowly shook his head. In the keeping of that secret, he sundered our ties. I felt suddenly adrift. I watched in a daze as he took up his pack and cloak.

"It's dark out," I pointed out. "And Buckkeep is a far, rough walk, even in daylight. At least stay the night, Chade."

"I can't. You'd but pick at this quarrel like a scab until you got it bleeding afresh. Enough hard words have already been said. Best I leave now."

And he did.

I sat and watched the fire burn low alone. I had gone too far with both of them, much farther than I had ever intended. I had wanted to part ways with them; instead I'd poisoned every memory of me they'd ever had. It was done. There'd be no mending this. I got up and began to gather my things. It took a very short time. I knotted them into a bundle made with my winter cloak. I wondered if I acted out of childish pique or sudden decisiveness. I wondered if there was a difference. I sat for a time before the hearth, clutching my bundle. I wanted Burrich to come back, so he would see I was sorry, would know I was sorry as I left. I forced myself to look carefully at that. Then I undid my bundle and put my blanket before the hearth and stretched out on it. Ever since Burrich had dragged me back from death, he had slept between me and the door. Perhaps it had been to keep me in. Some nights it had felt as if he were all that stood between me and the dark. Now he was not there. Despite the walls of the hut, I felt I curled alone on the bare, wild face of the world.

You always have me.

I know. And you have me. I tried, but could not put any real feeling in the words. I had poured out every emotion in me, and now I was empty. And so tired. With so much still to do.

The gray one has words with Heart of the Pack. Shall I listen?

No. Their words belong to them. I felt jealous that they were together while I was alone. Yet I also took comfort in it. Perhaps Burrich could talk Chade into coming back until morning. Perhaps Chade could leech some of the poison I'd sprayed at Burrich. I stared into the fire. I did not think highly of myself.