The fallen Seer is still there, lying with his head now pillowed on Wil's cloak. "I put my cloak under him, but I didn't want to move him," Wil explains. "Quite right," Aldus says, kneeling down and looking carefully at the figure. Cyrward gazes in fascination and open delight. "Wil, do you know what this means?" "He's a Seer, isn't he?" "No! Well, yes, but what I mean is, he's a gift from the gods!" Cyrward waves his good arm in emphasis. "He's half-drowned is what he is," Aldus says drily. "Take his legs, Wil. Cyrward, you take his cloak and hat and stick. If we cover him, we should be able to claim he's no more interesting than a traveller fallen ill." Between them they manage to get the unconscious Seer onto the canvas between the stretcher poles, and start making their way back to the Orderhouse. None of them notice the bookwyrm watching them from between the reeds on the opposite bank.