The Narrow Road Between Desires by Patrick Rothfuss

Author:Patrick Rothfuss [Rothfuss, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Astra Publishing House
Published: 2023-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

AFTERNOON: STILL

With no children waiting, Bast skipped stones in the nearby stream. He snuck up on a frog and startled it. He flipped through Celum Tinture, glancing at the illustrations: Calcification. Titration. Sublimation. He pulled a pair of embrils, then spent a long while puzzling at the pairing of the Empty Scales and the Winter Tree.

Brann, happily unbirched with a well-bandaged hand, brought him two sweet maple buns wrapped in a fine white handkerchief. Bast ate the first and set the second to one side.

Viette brought armloads of flowers and a fine blue ribbon. Bast wove the daisies into a crown, incorporating the ribbon so it ran twisting through the stems in an elaborate braided pattern.

Finally, looking up at the sun, Bast saw it was nearly time. He removed his shirt and filled it with the wealth of red and yellow touch-me-nots. He added the handkerchief and crown, then fetched a stick and made a bindle so he could carry the lot without the risk of crushing them.

He headed past the Oldstone Bridge, then up toward the hills and around a bluff until he found the place Kostrel had described. It was tucked tidily away. The stream curved and eddied into a lovely little pool perfect for a private bath.

Bast walked upstream, peering intently at the water as he went. He was forced to detour around a piece of boggy ground, then an outcrop of stone, then came upon an absolutely impenetrable patch of wild raspberry that forced him to turn back. He headed downstream to the Oldstone Bridge, then crossed the stream and headed back, exploring the other bank.

He met with fewer obstacles this time, and was able to stay much closer to the stream. He eyed the water closely, tossing in a leaf, a piece of bark, a handful of grass. He peered up at the sun. He listened to the wind. He scurried up and down the bank a dozen times.

Eventually he either learned what he set out to, or simply became bored. Returning to the secluded shaded pool, he hunkered down behind some bushes and was almost nodding off until the crackle of a twig and a scrap of song snapped him sharply awake. Peering down, he saw a young woman making her careful way down the steep hillside to the water’s edge.

Silently, Bast scurried upstream with his bundle. Three minutes later he was kneeling on a piece of grassy waterside where he had left the bright pile of flowers.

He picked up a yellow blossom, held it close, and when his breath brushed the petals, its color changed into a delicate blue. He dropped it in the water, watching as the current slowly carried it away.

Bast gathered up a handful of posies, red and orange, and breathed on them again. They too changed until they were a pale and vibrant blue. He scattered them onto the surface of the stream. He did this three more times until there were no flowers left.

Then, picking up the handkerchief

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