"I climbed the rocks instead of the path. I told you. It was much quicker, but much more dangerous."

Jahlee looked to me, plainly in need of rescue, and I said, "I remained behind for two reasons, neither of which had to do with fooling anyone. First, Hide was worried about the boat, and would have stayed behind himself-so I feared-if no one else would do it. I wanted him to meet Mucor face-to-face, to speak with her and to gain her friendship if he could."

Jahlee said, "She knows me already, and I know her."

"I was aware of it. Also that Hide would continue to be uneasy about the boat if you were the only one who remained behind. In addition, I wanted to speak with Maytera in private."

Vadsig said, "So her sight you might give, mysire?"

I shook my head. "I would gladly have done that before thousands. So I could tell her how I was able to do it."

"No bad!" Oreb dropped from the rigging to my shoulder to tug my hair. "Give bird!"

"Oh, I'm not so down as all that," I told him.

"Bird take! Make nest!"

"Aren't I bald enough for you already?"

"Not bald at all you are, mysire." Poor Vadsig looked as puzzled as she had made me feel; I ran my fingers through my hair (it is getting much too long) and conceded that I was not.

"You wanted to be alone with that metal woman. What do we call them?"

"Chems," I told Jahlee.

And Oreb: "Iron girl."

"With that chem, but you didn't even give her the black gown you bought her. Did you tell her where you got her eye?"

"No. Perhaps I should have told her first, and given her the gown as well; but I couldn't be sure the eye would restore her sight, and if it had not…" I shrugged. "Afterward she was so happy, so full of joy, and the gown would have been nothing to her." I thought of Pig, and Silk.

"So you're going to give it to her tomorrow?"

"Yes, and tell her where her eye came from. She will want to know, and has a right to know. There is not a female chem left in Viron. I asked His Cognizance, and that is what he told me. Or rather, there are none left save for the one who gave the eye. He has tried to bring her to the Prolocutor's Palace, but she will not go."

"What it is of which you speak, mysire?" Vadsig's honest blue eyes went from me to Jahlee (who looked bored), and back.

"Of chems," I told her, "and young chems a-building. There is an instinct, I think, that keeps them in one place and in hiding, until they are complete. I don't believe Olivine was aware of it; but we are generally unaware of our instincts."

Hide called Vadsig then, giving Jahlee and me a moment of privacy. I said, "When Maytera received her new eye, she said something that puzzled me, as it still does. She said, `Oh, Scylla!' Do you know that name?"

"I don't think so."

"Because I do, you see. I even dream of her at times. It is the name of the patroness of Viron, Pas's eldest daughter. Maytera is a religious woman, and lived in Viron for centuries."

"No say," Oreb croaked; I am not sure what he meant by it.

"There really isn't any reason she shouldn't have said it, though I suspect Scylla was expunged from Mainframe some time ago. She was one of the children who rebelled against Pas."

Jahlee said, "Then it doesn't matter."

"I agree, but that's what puzzles me. It seems to me that it does, and it shouldn't. Even if Scylla hasn't ceased to exist, she certainly isn't here and has little influence. Yet it seems to me it does matterthat the word matters somehow, even if Scylla herself does not. And I don't understand why."

Maytera is on board-badly frightened, but on board. She sits by the cabin and holds on with both hands, and will scarcely speak. We bios can at least deceive ourselves into thinking we might survive a fall into the sea, or even the sinking of our boats. Maytera would die, and she knows it. Hoping to distract her, I asked how she reached Mucor's Rock.

"In a little boat I made."

"It was very brave of you.

"My granddaughter sat in the back. I could see then, but she told me how to go."

"Weren't you afraid?"

She nodded.

"This can't be worse."

"It's a lot worse, Patera. I-we…" Our bow rose upon a wave larger than most, and she gasped.

"You don't have to worry, Maytera. You really don't. It's storms that sink boats. This is just a good, stiff wind."

It seems extraordinarily foolish to write that there was fear in her eyes, when I carried one of those eyes in my pocket for so long and the other is blind and blank; yet it was so.

"Won't you be afraid on the lander, Maytera? Travel between the whorls is very hazardous. A great many people have died."

She nodded again.

To comfort her I said, "You told us once that we shouldn't be afraid of death, because the gods were waiting to receive us."

"When you came in to teach religion you mean, Patera? Yes, I suppose I did. I'm sure I did. I always said that."

"Is it any less true now?"

"When we went out to the island…

"Yes?"

"It was a long, long way out over the sea." Given something else to think about, she relaxed a trifle. "I couldn't even see it from where I sat in the boat, not at first. But we waited till the sea was very, very quiet. I forget how long it was." She paused, searching her memory for the information. "Fifteen. Fifteen days, and it was the middle of summer. Then one morning there were just tiny little hills of water."

"I understand."

"I tucked my skirt up under my belt. You know how I do."

She loosed her grip on the gunwale to finger her new gown. "It's nice to have a habit again. You had this made for me. That's what Vadsig says."

"I had to guess at the size."

"It's a little big, but I like that. If I want it tighter, I can wear something underneath it, or for winter. I won't be entitled to wear a habit anymore, but it's nice."

"It's not really a habit," I told her, "just a gown in the same style-black with the wide sleeves, and so forth."

"Yes." Her hold on the gunwale resumed.

"Would you like me to leave you alone?"

She shook her head vehemently. Oreb added, "Silk stay!" apparently fearing I had not understood her.

"It isn't bombazine anyway, Patera. Bombazine is silk and wool, sort of mixed together. This is worsted twill."

"It was the closest they had."

Her small, hard hand found mine. "Do you mind?"

In appearance, hers were the hands of an elderly woman; but I said, "Not unless you squeeze."

"When I find my husband again, I'm going to hold him just like this. And squeeze. It will be a day and a night, I think, before we ever let go. Then we'll make my daughter a real woman. A complete woman. And then we'll start another. Do you think I'll ever really get there? Will I be able to?"

"I'm certain you will."

"When I rowed out to the island, Patera…"

"Yes?"

"I wasn't afraid. My granddaughter told me where. I didn't know how to row, nothing at all, when we pushed the boat in. She was very patient with me."

I nodded. "She's a good woman in her way."

"That was what… What made it so easy for me, Patera. I kept telling myself I had to look after her, that she was just a child…"

"But she wasn't. I understand."

"Poor girl," Oreb muttered. "Poor girl."

"So it really didn't matter a bit if I died, and I wasn't afraid. There's my daughter now. I have to live for her."

Strange dream last night. I was back in my cell on the Red Sun Whorl. The torturers' apprentice was sitting on my bed. We talked for a time; then I got up and went to the door. Through the little barred window I could see the sea, quite smooth, and a hundred women standing upon the glassy water. All were robed in black. The boy behind me was saying, "And Abaia, and they live in the sea."