He felt Micum’s big hand on his shoulder as his friend said, “There now, Seregil. We may find her yet. Don’t despair.”

Seregil rose to go. “Thank you, Kordira. You’ve been very helpful.”

“I’m not sure how. That’s all just ancient history.”

“You never know what will prove useful,” said Micum.

Leaving Kordira’s shop, Seregil went into a nearby jeweler’s shop and asked after local goldsmiths.

“There are quite a lot of them,” the shopkeeper replied. “But if you want the best, I’d say it would be Mistress Gora.” He lifted a golden necklace from a velvet pillow on a shelf behind the counter. “This is her work.”

“Very nice,” said Seregil.

“Her shop is in Gate House Street, next to the Red Cloud refinery. That’s the one closest to here.”

That was the one near Lemiel’s cottage and the White Crow. He and Micum rode to Gate House Street, which was lined with artisans’ shops. Most of the work on display in the shop windows was second-rate, but Mistress Gora’s wares showed passable skill. Stepping inside, Seregil glanced over the trays of jewelry and nodded. This would have to do. The workshop was behind the shop, and through a curtained doorway they could hear the musical rhythm of tiny hammers on precious metals and a woman singing.

“How do you do, gentlemen?” said a buxom blond woman. Her face was ruddy, and a black patch covered her left eye. The leather apron over her plain woolen gown was spattered with traces of gold. “Baron Seregil of Mirror Moon, isn’t it?”

“My fame precedes me,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

“There’s only one Aurënfaie lord on the island that I know of,” she replied, with no trace of ire. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I am. I have a custom piece I need to have made and you were highly recommended, Mistress Gora.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear! What did you have in mind?”

Seregil took out a folded parchment and smoothed it out on the countertop. Using the fragment of the rosette he’d gotten from Lemiel, he’d drawn up what it had looked like, including the indentation in which the black opal would fit. The side view showed the spike of gold that would be fixed in stone.

“Interesting,” she said, studying it. “You’re a good draftsman, my lord, but what is this supposed to be?”