"No," said Maia. "No, Nan. I can't tell you how I know- I daren't-but I know for a fact that she was sent for out of the temple by the Sacred Queen."

"Then all I can say is, Cran and Airtha help her!" replied Nennaunir.

Maia began to cry.

55: "WHERE IS OCCULA?"

"I haven't been able to find out anything at all, miss," said Ogma.

It was three days later. Maia, during the night after Nennaunir's visit, had lain awake for several hours, fretting over Occula. Might she perhaps already have died in the hands of the temple authorities, before Ashaktis had brought the queen's message to the chief priest? That would account for no one having seen her or heard anything of her. It seemed more probable, though, that she had been sent to the queen: and if so, then either she was still with her, or else the queen, finding her not to her liking, had dismissed her as she had dismissed Maia. Either that, or else the queen had-what had been her own phrase? "got rid of her".

Maia forced herself to look at the matter calmly. She knew intuitively that she could not go to Fornis and inquire what had become of Occula. This-especially in the light of the warnings she had had from Sessendris and Nennau-

nir-would be not only useless but dangerous. Besides, Fomis herself had assured her that if ever she were to disclose one word of what had passed between them, she should hang. The idea of alluding to it, even obliquely and in private, to this ruthless, cruel woman-and in the dark there rose before her inward sight the mane of glowing, red hair and the dominating, ice-green eyes-frightened her very much: for though Maia knew that she had all Bekla at her feet, she also knew very well that she lacked sophistication and experience, and was not at all sure how far she could safely go in asserting herself. She had been strongly advised to avoid doing anything likely to bring herself to the queen's notice; and with this advice all her own instincts accorded.

Occula, of course, had had many admirers among the young Leopards. Before the murder of the High Counselor she had been-with Terebinthia's connivance-much in demand. But (and this again was Maia's instinctive guess) since the murder and her arrest and disappearance, things had changed. Neither Shend-Lador and his friends, when they had come to see her, nor Sarget, had made any reference to Occula, though none of them could possibly have forgotten that she and Maia had been together in Sencho's household The plain inference was that it was no longer felt to be entirely wise to recall Occula or show any interest in her. Wryly, Maia remembered one of Occula's own favorite maxims. "Never get ill, banzi, and never get into trouble: before you know where you are the water's up to your venda and the bastards are all runnin' like rats."

Besides, if-as she surely would-the queen were to learn that she had been inquiring about Occula in the upper city, notwithstanding that she knew very well whither she had last been summoned, this would be as ill-received and therefore as risky as knocking on the queen's front door.

Early next morning she had taken the only practicable step she could think of. Calling Ogma in before the time at which she herself was usually woken, she took her into her confidence, omitting mention only of her own relationship with the queen. She told her of her anxiety for Occula's life, of her virtual certainty that Form's had taken her from the temple to her own house; of the warnings she had received to keep herself out of the queen's eye;

and of the consequent impossibility of pursuing inquiries on her own account.

"Ogma, dear, do you think you could try to find out something? I mean, do you know any of the queen's servants, or perhaps someone who does?"

"No, that I don't, miss, I'm afraid. I was hardly ever out of the High Counselor's house, you see, and in those days I never went into the lower city. That's why it makes all the difference bein' here with you, only now I-"

"Where's Terebinthia, do you know?" interrupted Maia.

"Oh, she cut and run, miss. Didn't you know? Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion helped her to get out of Bekla quick- he'd paid her a lot, you see, for letting him take Miss Milvushina away with him before she could be sent down to the temple with the rest of us. Yes, the temple people were too late to catch the saiyett. When they asked about her, she'd already gone. I seem to remember she said something about she meant to go south-down Belishba way: that's where she came from, you know. They still want her for letting Miss Milvushina go, only they don't know where she is. Ah, well, but Terebinthia, she was always that artful, wasn't she, miss?"

Nicely set up with all our lygols, thought Maia, letting Ogma run on for a while. And she's one person who probably could have helped me-specially if I'd made it worth her while. She'd have known some girl in Fornis's households-or if she hadn't, she could probably have found me one without exciting suspicion. But Ogma? Looking at the ill-favored, half-crippled girl, not particularly intelligent, clean or tidy; one of the countless army of decent, stupid drudges content to look to their betters for a little security in return for scrubbing the world's floors all their lives, she realized the total impracticability of sending her off to make a friend among Fornis's servants and then discreetly ask about Occula. The very idea was absurd. She tried to imagine Ogma going about to delude Ashaktis. It recalled to her one of old Drigga's most hilarious and delightful stories, in which the ox, while intending to deceive the monkey, unwittingly reveals to that perspicacious animal everything which he supposes he is keeping cleverly concealed.

"Something amuse you, miss?" asked Ogma, with an air of resentment against she could not tell what. Like most people of her sort, the notion that others might be

laughing at her was never very far from poor Ogma's mind.

"Oh, I was only just thinking of old Terebinthia," replied Maia. "That time when the High Counselor told her to-" and hurriedly invented the rest of the episode, to the delight of Ogma, who naturally, had hated the saiyett- a domestic tyrant if ever there was one.

"Well, Ogma, dear, when you're out shopping, just ask around the market and so on, as if you were gossiping about the murder, but don't let on to anyone as it was me was wanted you to, d'you see? I know you were nearly as fond of Occula as what I was, and you must want to find out what's happened to her as much as I do. But just make it look like natural curiosity-don't go trying to get hold of anyone in the queen's house or anything o' that. Only we could both land up in trouble then."

Perhaps these last words of hers had frightened poor Ogma a little too effectively, thought Maia now, listening to the total blank which was all she had to report after three days among the shops and stalls. She might not have been trying particularly hard. Yet the more sinister explanation would not leave Maia's mind: that Occula might have died weeks ago, her body disposed of in some way no doubt well-established between Fornis and Ashaktis, her name no longer spoken, any mark she had made on Bekla obliterated-another item from the High Counselor's liquidated household.

"I haven't been able to find out anything at all." And there was something about the way Ogma spoke which seemed to Maia to carry the meaning "And don't ask me to try any more." Yes, for sure she'd frightened her too much with her talk of the queen; but no more than she'd frightened herself. Fair's fair, she thought; I can't blame her.

But I'll be damned if I'll give it up myself. My Occula! My darling Occula, who saved me from that bastard Genshed and gave me back something to live for, and taught me all I've learned and even took care to send me out of the way before Sencho was killed, although she was half-crazy with fear on her own account! Occula, the only one who ever really loved me; except for-oh, how I wish I could tell her about Zenka! If she's alive, does she know-has she heard-about me? She can't not have. Then why hasn't she tried to send me some message? And thus once again the all-too-likely explanation returned upon poor Maia.