Patrick Rothfuss - The Name of the Wind

“Not chaff,” I said, looking across the top of the hill. Not fifty feet away was a cluster of charred buildings that must have once been the Mauthen farm. “Ash.”

I led Denna to a little stand of trees that blocked the wind and the sight of the farm. I gave her my water bottle and we sat on a fallen tree, resting as she rinsed her eyes clean.

“You know,” I said hesitantly, “you don’t need to go over there. I could look for your things if you tell me where you left them.”

Her eyes narrowed a little. “I can’t tell if you’re being considerate or condescending. . . .”

“I don’t know what you saw last night. So I don’t know how delicate I should be.”

“I don’t need much delicacy, as a rule,” she said shortly. “I’m no blushing daisy.”

“Daisies don’t blush.”

Denna looked at me, blinking her red eyes.

“You’re probably thinking of ‘shrinking violet’ or ‘blushing virgin.’ Either way, daisies are white. They can’t blush. . . .”

“That,” she said flatly, “was condescending.”

“Well, I thought I’d let you know what it looked like,” I said. “For comparison. So there’s less confusion when I’m trying to be considerate.”

We stared at each other for a bit, eventually she looked away, rubbing at her eyes. “Fair enough,” she admitted. She tilted her head back and splashed more water onto her face, blinking furiously.

“I really didn’t see much,” she said as she daubed her face on her shirtsleeve. “I played before the wedding, then again while they were getting ready for supper. I kept expecting my . . .” she gave a faint smile, “. . . Master Ash to make an appearance, but I knew I couldn’t dare ask about him. For all I knew, the whole thing was another test of his.”

She trailed off, frowning. “He has a way of signaling me. A way of letting me know when he’s around. I excused myself and found him over by the barn. We headed into the woods for a bit and he asked me questions. Who was there, how many people, what they looked like.” She looked thoughtful.

“Now that I’m thinking of it, I think that was the real test. He wanted to see how observant I was.”

“He almost sounds like a spy,” I mused.

Denna shrugged. “We wandered for about half an hour, talking. Then he heard something and told me to wait for him. He headed off toward the farmhouse and was gone for a long while.”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes?” she shrugged. “You know how it is when you’re waiting for someone. It was dark and I was cold and hungry.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned forward a little. “Gods, I’m hungry now, too. I wish I would’ve . . .”

I pulled an apple out of my travelsack and handed it to her. They were gorgeous, red as blood, sweet, and crisp. The sort of apples you dream about all year but can only get for a few weeks during the fall.

Denna gave me a curious look. “I used to travel a lot,” I explained as I took one for myself. “And I used to be hungry a lot. So I usually carry something to eat. I’ll fix you a real dinner when we set camp for the night.”

“And he cooks, too. . . .” She bit into the apple and took a drink of water to wash it down. “Anyway, I thought I heard shouting, so I headed back in the direction of the farm. When I came out from behind a bluff, I could definitely hear screaming and shouting. Then I got closer and smelled smoke. And I saw the light of the fire through the trees—”

“What color was it?” I asked, my mouth half full of apple.

Denna looked at me sharply, her expression suddenly suspicious. “Why do you ask that?”

“I’m sorry, I interrupted,” I said swallowing my mouthful of apple. “Finish your story first and I’ll tell you afterward.”

“I’ve been talking an awful lot,” she said. “And you haven’t made any mention at all of why you’re up in this little corner of the world.”

“The masters down at the University heard some odd rumors and sent me here to find out if they were true,” I said. There was no awkwardness or hesitation in the lie. I didn’t even plan it, really, it just came out. Forced to make a snap decision, I couldn’t safely tell her the truth about my search for the Chandrian. I couldn’t bear the thought of Denna thinking I was brain-addled.

“The University does that sort of thing?” Denna asked. “I thought you lot just sat around reading books.”

“Some folks read,” I admitted. “But when we hear strange rumors, someone needs to go out and find out what’s really happened. When people get superstitious, they start to look toward the University and think, Who around here is meddling with dark powers better left alone? Who should we toss into a great, blazing bonfire? ”

“So you do this sort of thing a lot?” She made a gesture with her half-eaten apple. “Investigate things?”

I shook my head. “I just got on a master’s bad side. He made sure I drew the short straw for this little trip.”

Not a bad lie, considering it was off the cuff. It would even hold up if she did any asking around, as parts of it were true. When necessity demands it, I’m an excellent liar. Not the noblest of skills, but useful. It ties closely to acting and storytelling, and I learned all three from my father, who was a master craftsman.

“You are so full of horseshit,” she said matter-of-factly.

I froze with my teeth halfway into my apple. I pulled back, leaving white impressions in the red skin. “I beg your pardon?”

She shrugged. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But don’t fabricate some story out of a misguided desire to pacify or impress me.”

I drew a deep breath, hesitated, and let it out slowly. “I don’t want to lie to you about why I’m here,” I said. “But I worry what you might think if I tell you the truth.”

Denna’s eyes were dark, thoughtful, and gave nothing away. “Fair enough,” she said at last with an almost imperceptible nod. “I believe that.”

She took a bite of her apple and gave me a long look as she chewed, never looking away from my eyes. Her lips were wet and redder than the apple. “I heard some rumors.” I said at last. “And I want to know what happened here. That’s all really. I just . . .”

“Listen Kvothe, I’m sorry.” Denna sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. It’s none of my business, really. I know what it’s like to have secrets.”

I almost told her everything then. The whole story about my parents, the Chandrian, the man with black eyes and a nightmare smile. But I worried it might seem like the desperate elaboration of a child caught in a lie. So instead I took the coward’s way out and stayed silent.

“You’ll never find your true love that way,” Denna said.

I snapped out of my reverie, confused. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You eat the core of your apple,” she said, amused. “You eat it all around, then from the bottom to the top. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

“Old habit,” I said dismissively, not wanting to tell her the truth. That there had been a time in my life when the core was all of the apple I was likely to find, and I’d been glad of it. “What did you mean before?”

“Didn’t you ever play that game?” she held up her own apple core and grabbed the stem with two fingers. “You think of a letter and twist. If the stem stays on you think of another letter and twist again. When the stem breaks off . . .” hers did, “. . . you know the first letter of the name of the person you’re going to fall in love with.”

I looked down at the tiny piece of apple I had left. Not enough to grip and twist. I bit off the last of the apple and tossed the stem. “Looks like I’m destined to be loveless.”