PATERA GULO COADJUTOR PROLOCUTOR'S PALACE

"Ken him, bucky?"

"Pig, you perpetually amaze me. How do you do it?"

"Listen's h'all. Yet took a bit a' wind."

Hound said, "I noticed it myself."

"Gasped? I suppose I did. Not because I recognized his namethough I do-but because he's coadjutor. He wanted to warn me, you said? It's a matter of some importance if His Cognizance sent his coadjutor with the warning."

"Good Silk! Fish heads?"

He shook his head. "No, no food. To tell the truth, I want nothing but rest. Rest and sleep; and if I can go to bed without a supper, you certainly can. Hound, if you'll show me where I can lie down, I'll try not to trouble you and Pig further."

Hound led him to a pallet in the next room; and when he had removed he shoes and stretched himself on it, said softly, "We fed your bird when we ate. Don't worry about him."

There was no response, and Hound, moved by the sight of that tragic face, added still more softly, "You don't have to worry about anything. Pig and I will take care of it," hoping that he spoke the truth.

"Somebody to see you, Horn." It was Mother's voice from the kitchen; but he was lost in flames and smoke, groping through the fire that had destroyed the quarter, groping backward through time to reach the two-headed man in the old wooden chair Father used at meals.

"Somebody to see you."

He woke sweating, and it was ten minutes at least before he fully accepted the fact that he was older and knew that there was no returning to the past save in dreams.

When he had placed himself in time, he sat up. Hound breathed heavily in the bed; Pig more heavily in the room beyond. The window was open; curtains fluttered in a night breeze, gentle ghosts whispering of the days of Ermine's prosperity. Oreb was silent, asleep if he were present at all; and in all likelihood winging his way over the city.

This was the moment, yet he felt a strange reluctance.

His shoes were half under the bed. He retrieved them and groped in a corner for the knobbed staff, then remembered that he had left it in the Calde's Palace-in the lavatory in which he had bathed, or possibly in the bedroom beyond it. If Hound woke, or Pig, he might say that he was going back for it. He might make the he true, in fact, to salve his conscience; although it seemed doubtful that anyone would come to his knock at the Calde's door at such an hour, even more doubtful that he would be admitted to fetch his staff or anything of the kind.

Neither Hound nor Pig awoke.

The key was in the lock. He turned it as quietly as he could, slipped through the door, and relocked it from outside, dropping the key into his pocket. The years had worn threadbare gray paths down the middle of the luxurious carpets he recalled. Ermine's banisters had lost a baluster here and there.

The cavernous sellaria had been stripped of much of its furniture and most of its lights. At the desk, a lofty young man with a beard as black as Pig's own stood arguing with the clerk. The clerk wore a blue tunic with crimson embroidery that seemed chosen to hold death and the night at bay, the bearded youth a long, curved saber and a white headcloth in place of a cap; neither man so much as glanced at him.

The door to Ermine's Glasshouse was locked, but the lock was small and cheap, the door old and warped.

Where Thelx holds up a mirror.

Dampness and decay scented the air; the broad blossoms were gone, the trees dead or overgrown, the colored glass gems trodden into the mud; improbably, the pond remained-light from distant skylands flashed gold in its depths.

He knelt, and closed his eyes. "It's me, Patera. It's Horn, and I've come to get you, I want to bring you back to Blue with me. You're here-I know you're here."

There was no answering touch, no ghostly voice.

"What Nettle and I wrote about you-we didn't just make it up. You told us on the airship, remember? You said a part of you would always be here." When he opened his eyes, it seemed for a moment that he saw Silk in the water; but it was only his own reflection, a reflection so faint it vanished as he stared.

"You're here; I know you'll always be here and I can't take you away. But you could talk to me, Patera, just for a minute. You always liked me. You liked me better than almost anybody else in the whole palaestra."

Not all the blossoms were gone, it seemed; the cool night air bore a faint perfume.

"Please, Patera? Please? I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. Just for a minute-just for a minute let me see you."

"I loved only you, nobody but you. Not ever." Warm lips brushed his ear. In the pool, an older Silk knelt beside Hyacinth. Both smiled at him.

The yawning maidservant who answered the Calde's door gawked at him and jumped in her haste to get out of his way. When he found the right room at last and the husband's knobbed staff was in his hands, he heard distant shots and opened a window.

There had been three, from a slug gun. While he listened he heard two more, and saw a mounted guardsman gallop by.

The maid had waited in the foyer to let him out, still so sleepy that she called him "Calde" when warning him against the danger of the streets. "One shot means death," he told her, smiling. "Many simply means that someone's missing a lot." He had learned that in worse streets and in the tunnels long ago. He wished for some money to give her for admitting him and for her obvious concern for him; but he had only the two whole cards, and a card was far too much.

"Here." He pushed one into her hand, and got away before she could embarrass him with her thanks.

The street was very dark, and quiet save for five hurrying Guardsmen; Ermine's lobby quieter still, although a small table had been turned over and a vase broken. There was no clerk behind the desk now, no one in the lobby at all. The stairs seemed higher and steeper than he recalled.

As he put the key back into the lock, Pig asked sleepily, "Recollect ther craws, bucky?"

It took a moment. "Why, yes. Yes, I do, Pig."

"Still say ther same?"

A tent is not the most comfortable of accommodations in winter..I have tried a cave-and various other locations-and they are all of them better; yet we are in a tent, and it is my doing. By "we" I mean Jahlee, Oreb, and myself.

Yesterday morning we made port at New Viron, after having been detained within sight of the town by contrary winds for a full day. We were all exceedingly glad to get off the boat, as you may imagine. Even Wijzer was pleased to go ashore, or so it seemed to me.

Here I must interrupt the narrative I have not really begun to say that he offered to land us on Lizard, this despite the bad weather we were then experiencing and the poor anchorage offered by Tail Bay. I explained that although I was very eager indeed to get home again, my duty forbade it. I would have to report to the people of New Viron, whose emissary I had been, and take care of various other matters. It was a torture as bad as anything the Matachin Tower might impose to stand on deck and see, through pelting rain and driving spray, the tiny golden rectangle that was the window of our little house. You were sitting up late, Nettle, reading or writing or sewing, and wondering what had become of us. I wanted very much to see you, however briefly and at however great a distance. I was sorely tempted to send Oreb to you; but you, having ridden out that same gale at home, will understand when I say that I could not bring myself to risk his small life in such a fashion.

Another digression, but there is no help for it. I intend to send him to you as soon as he has recovered his strength; the sea was not kind to him, but he will be fit enough in a day or two, I believe. Meanwhile I hope to send you a little cheerful news by the Neighbors. It seems likely that they will be in touch with me here as they were in Dorp; if so, I will try to persuade them to carry another message.