At least I know what doll it was that searched for Hide.

How good it was to see Hyacinth, although it was only for a moment and only in a dream! When Nettle and I lived in the Calde's Palace I disliked her, or thought I did. Each of us was jealous of the attention Silk gave the other, I think, which was as foolish as it was wrong. What a beautiful woman she was, good or bad. When someone is gifted, we think he should behave better than the rest of us, as Silk did. But in Silk's case, his goodness was his gift-a gift he had made for himself. It was the magnetism that drew others to him that caused his embryo to be put aboard a lander. That was the work of Pas's scientists, as Pig's size and strength were. (Recalling the Red Sun Whorl that it became, I cannot but wonder whether it did not sacrifice too much for us.)

His goodness he made for himself as a boy and a young man, as I wrote just a moment ago. No doubt he was prompted by his mother, but then all boys are. I was myself, but how much good did Mother's promptings do?

Oreb has returned, having found no one who might help us, and having nothing to report save cold and snow, dispirited and unwilling to converse.

We progress! Vadsig brought my breakfast today, and with it news better than any fried mush. Jahlee is being held in a house diagonally across the street from ours. I hurried to my window, but it looks in the wrong direction.

"Then please, Vadsig, I beg you, let me go to a window from which I can see it. If only I can I see, for a single minute, the house in which my poor daughter is a prisoner, I'll feel a thousand times better. I swear to you I won't run away, and I'll return to this room and let you lock me in again the moment you tell me I must go back."

It took a great deal of pleading, but she agreed. Out we went, ten steps down a little hallway and into a bedroom only slightly larger and more comfortable than mine. It was Vadsig's own, as she explained with touching pride-a narrow bed, half smothered by an old quilt intended for a bigger one, a fireplace with a woodbox, and an old chest that I feel sure has more than enough room for her entire wardrobe. Together we leaned from her window so that she might point out the window of the room in which poor Jahlee lies. "A doctor for her they want if the court for him will pay," confided Vadsig.

"Poor thing," muttered Oreb, and I agree. Let us hope that it will not.

Afterward she showed me her most prized possessions-a sketch of her dead parents by a street artist, and a cracked vase given her by Aanvagen. She is sixteen, she said; but under pressure admitted she might be no more than fifteen after all. I would say fourteen.

None of which means much. The important points are that Jahlee is confined within a short walk of where I sit, that she like me is on the third floor of a private house, and that Vadsig is inclined to be friendly. She promises to find Hide for me, as well. (Perhaps I should note that the house in which Jahlee is confined has a stone first story and two upper stories of wood, a kind of construction that seems very common here, and that the street is narrow but carries a good deal of traffic, mostly wagonloads of bales, barrels, or boxes.)

I returned to this room as I had promised, heard Vadsig's key squeak in the lock and the solid thump of the bolt, and knelt to squint through the keyhole, hoping for another glimpse of the only friend I have in this brutal, busy, savage seaport. I did not get it, however; the key was still in the lock.

That gave me an idea. I slid this sheet of paper under my door and used the point of one of Oreb's quills to tickle the key into a position that allowed me to poke it out. It fell, and I retrieved this sheet with infinite care, hoping to bring the key in with it. The sheet returned indeed, but the key did not, and I swore.

"No good?" Oreb inquired.

"Exactly," I told him. "Either the key is too thick to slide under the door, or it hit the paper and bounced off."

"Bird find."

I thought that he planned to fly out my window and re-enter the house by another and was about to warn him that it might be a long while before he found another window open in this cold weather, but he disappeared into a triangular hole I had not noticed previously where the wainscoting meets the chimney near the ceiling. In five minutes or less he was back with the key in his beak. I have hidden it in my stocking.

All this has given me another idea. I am going to write a letter to which I will sign Jahlee's name, and have Oreb push it between the shutters of her window for her captors to find. It can do us no harm, and may be of benefit.

Supper was late, as expected. Poor Vadsig looked everywhere for her key before confessing to Aanvagen that she had lost it; Aanvagen boxed her ears and so on, all of which was unfortunate but unavoidable; I comforted her as well as I could in Aanvagen's presence, and promised her a coral necklace when I am free.

"Sphigxday coming is, and you to the court going are," says Aanvagen, looking as somber as her fair hair and red face allow. She is a good woman at base, I believe. This is Molpsday, so I have nearly a week to wait. I must return Jahlee to Blue and consciousness before then. There can be no delay, no excuses; it must be done.

I left my room sometime after midnight, after Oreb reported that all the inhabitants were asleep. There are four: Aanvagen and Vadsig, "Cook," and "Master." After locating our baggage in a ground-floor storeroom off the kitchen and retrieving Maytera Mint's gift and some other things, I explored the rest of the house until I understood the plan of its floors thoroughly. It was dark by Blue's standards, although nothing to compare with the pitchy blackness of a darkday. Smoldering fires gave enough light to save me from tripping over furniture, Oreb advised me in hoarse whispers, and I groped my way with my staff.

When I felt I knew the house, I went outside. As expected, every door of the house in which Jahlee lies was locked. The key to my room will not open them, and I suspect they are barred at night, as the outer doors of this house are. Nothing more to report, save that I have asked Vadsig to bring me a lump of sealing wax so I can study the impression made by this ring. The stone is not actually black, I find; call it purple-gray.

Much shouting downstairs before lunch. Vadsig explained that she is not supposed to leave the house without permission, but that she had gone out to discover where Hide is being held. "Cook" caught her, and gave her a dressing down. "But finding him for you I am, Mysire Horn. In the house behind the house where your daughter is he is. Not happy there he is, these things the girl there tells. Up and down, up and down he walks. A thousand questions he asks."

"I see. I'm very sorry to hear this, Vadsig. I don't want to get you into any more trouble; but sometime when you are sent to the market do you think it might be possible for you to speak to him?"

"If it you wish, mysire, trying I am. Parel upstairs will let me go, that may be."

"Thank you, Vadsig. Thank you very, very much! I'm forever indebted to you. Vadsig, when we were in your room, you showed me the picture of your parents and your vase, things that are precious to you. Do you remember?"

She laughed and shook out her short, orange hair with a touch of the pride she showed in her bedroom. She has a good, merry laugh. "From yesterday not so quickly forgetting I am."

"I want to warn you that it's not wise to show precious things to everyone, Vadsig. You see, I'm going to give you something precious-the coral necklace I promised you; but it could get you into trouble if Aanvagen knew you had it. Do you think we could make it a little secret between the two of us? For the time being?"