"Putting things in the book requires me to see them as they are," says Riale. He flips to an empty page. "Were there any other common sources of confusion?"

"The way I look at things tends to confuse them too, but I'm not sure how to describe what confused them about it."

"I would describe it as a disinclination to pay attention to how other people work and attempt to fit in. Combined with a truly impressive amount of blunt force trauma, applied directly through conversation."

"I think I might be too small to properly apply blunt force trauma," says Ranelin. "The force would be too directed and it just becomes piercing."

"Also very literal."

"Hmm," says Riale, smiling at the page.

Ink blooms under his fingers, spreading out and settling into the shape of a little spirit. Depicted at actual size - the book's big enough.

He doesn't know Ranelin well enough to put down a true copy yet, but he thinks he could. It might not even take him very long.

The light that shines from the image's iron-covered eyes is much brighter than Kastimund's glimmer of fire.

"Two imperfect pages," he says when he lifts his hand. "But I think I have you down better than Kastimund. Not bad for my first day."

"Oh, all of your other pages are perfect?" says Ranelin, surprised.

"They are. And - yes, you do. Despite the element, her page is not naturally brighter than any other."

Riale lifts the chunk of filled pages away from the cover of the book and drags his thumb up the stack of their edges, freeing them rapidly to settle back against the cover and producing an extended riffling sound that might give Ranelin an idea of how busy he's been today.

"Oh my." And then a large grin breaks out on Ranelin's face, directed straight at Riale.

"You've been busy!"

"It was a long flight here from First City and I didn't have much else to do!"

"What was the saying for the trouble with leaving your mouth open?" wonders Kastim. "Something about catching insects..."

Ranelin closes her mouth.

"How did you do that from memory?" she asks, amazed.

"I mean, not all of it. But - I don't know, I just think about my memory of something familiar, and then I tell it to the book. And I don't try to put in anything that I don't remember well enough. I'm definitely getting better at it; I think this morning when I'd only done it a couple of times I wouldn't have been able to go straight to building the whole imperial palace."

"Putting in something you don't remember well enough to get perfect is better than not putting the thing in at all."

"When I run out of things I remember well enough to get perfect, I'll go back for the rest."

"Well, okay. Whatever works for you. You're doing well, anyway."

"Thanks. I try."

He turns the page and puts in the garden. It's a lovely garden, and looking deeply at things is second nature already.

Ranelin can't, of course, see this.

"Do we know where to go to look for the others? Esere had wanted it to be easy."

"We have some idea, yes. It seems like it will be as easy as he wanted. At least for now."

"Oh. Good."

"I know what city to look for Saerith in, and I've got Laisanni narrowed down at least to the province and probably the town, and I've got a good guess at the town for Finnehalva - it's right near where I'm expecting to find Saerith, actually, but I get the impression we can't do this out of order?"

"It would be much easier that way, which of course is why we cannot."

He shrugs. "I'll worry about that if we take longer than a day to find Laisanni," he says, and looks around for something else to put in the book. There's a lovely stained glass window over on that building! He steps closer to inspect it.