Fool’s Quest (Fitz and the Fool, Book 2)

I found myself speaking softly as if I were telling an old tale to a young child. And giving it a happy ending, when all know that tales never end, and the happy ending is but a moment to catch one’s breath before the next disaster.

could not drag enough air into my lungs.

Now that I was somewhat rested and alert, not to mention recovered from our Skill-portal journey, he looked less imposing. Part of that was that he had no dragon with him.

Oh, Fool, be so careful. I don’t want that stuff on me.”
“If you could feel it as I do, you would,” he said. “It burns so sweetly.”
“Fool, I beg you, be careful of me.”
“I will. As I so seldom have before.

A royal assassin was bound to his king’s word, to slay only as directed. Now I would slay where I would.

I did not want to name her a White Prophet. I did not want to mark her as more the Fool’s than mine.

It was a cold and empty place, a nutshell emptied of its meat, a bottle drained of brandy.

He could not help that he was not Revel.

Does all go well with you and the babe?
It does. I have not vomited for two days. I can eat with pleasure once more.

Perhaps he will never be as gay as he was when he was Lord Golden