Amber, year nine, day 303 (Friday, June 30)

Morning

	Bartholomew has agreed to put me in touch with Looks Twice.  Well,
actually, he's simply going to send me to the Disc.  Finding Looks Twice
will be my problem.  I hate to impose on Bartholomew in this manner, but I
can think of no other way that doesn't risk the baby.  If only it was
easier to travel there.  At least I seem to have better timing than
Lavender.  Although, judging by the look on Bartholomew's face, I didn't
miss them by much.

Discworld

	It's always the unexpected bit of culture that trips me up.  I was
expecting to have to pay Looks Twice for his assistance, of course.  That
is usually the way, when the instructor is not a relative or a friend, or
repaying a favor, or requiring an apprenticeship.  Under other
circumstances, that last option would not be impossible, but I cannot
spend any large amount of time away from the children and feel comfortable
about it.  As it is, I am not quite sure how this will work.  I doubt he
can teach me this magic quickly, which means either I will have to see him
on a regular basis, or he will have to see me.  And, since I doubt he will
want to leave the Disc, that leaves me visiting him.  But I can't keep
asking Bartholomew to transport me here.  I suppose I could ask him to
show me the spell he used to send me here, but I think I still need his
permission somehow to get in.

	At any rate, this may all be moot.  Looks Twice informs me that it
is customary for me to offer my compensation along with my request for
instruction, rather than him telling me what he wants.  This makes things
more difficult, since I know little of what centaur culture is like here. 
What could they need that I can offer them?  Not money, of course.  Nor my
own form of healing.  It is shapeshifting, after all, which means I am
uncertain that I could teach those without some Chaos blood in them.  It
took me five years to learn, after all.  What else do I have to offer? 
Not much.  I can fight, but they do not seem to need any instruction in
that regard, and besides, their methods of fighting must understandably
differ from mine.  I can heal, but they already have a healer.  I am only
a fledgling sorcerer, at best, and my three meager spells would offer
little to the inhabitants of the plane of magic.  I can sing, and I've
been told my voice is rather pleasant, but I am no Driscoll or Meander,
and it has been a long time since I sang for anyone but the children.  I
can conjure, of course, but I must know what to conjure before it does me
any good.  What do they need?  What do they want?  Looks Twice has
suggested that a walk through their encampment might provide me with some
inspiration.  I pray that he is right.

	The items I offered in the end felt rather mundane to me, but
Looks Twice seemed happy to have them.  Even the most mundane item is
appreciated when it is in short supply.  I hope the children like the
toys.  It's a pity they are so shy.  Apparently I'm the first human
they've ever seen.  I understand Blackjack's logic, but I think he goes
too far.  Children should not grow up with that much fear.  Perhaps they
will be less likely to be captured by slavers, but at what price?

Afternoon

	Bartholomew was able to give me an extension, so to speak.  I have
until this evening to soak up as much knowledge as I can.  There's so much
to learn.  I've always known of the medicinal value of plants, but this is
a whole new way of looking them.  I suspect it will take some getting used
to.  Looks Twice is a good teacher, though, and I'm sure I'll get the hang
of this.  Assuming I am able to return.  Bartholomew mentioned that he
might be returning here, after the current crisis has been settled, and I
might be able to come with him.  Assuming the current crisis ever is
resolved.

Vetchways

Night

	What have I done?  This cannot be happening.  I only wanted to be
his friend.  Instead...  Why didn't I stop him?  Because I didn't want to
stop him.  Or at least a part of me didn't.  And for a while, that part of
me was in control.  It never occurred to me that it would be dangerous to
get so close to him.  I always feel a certain amount of attraction towards
him, ever since I first transfused him, but proximity never seemed to
affect it until tonight.  Oh, gods, why wasn't I strong enough?

	Perhaps it would be easier if I had no memory of it.  Knowing it
happened would be bad enough, but at least...  At least then I wouldn't
remember the way I felt.  But I can recall all of it.  Every kiss, every
touch, every...  I didn't want it to end.  I don't know how to explain it. 
For a brief period, it's as though my rational mind just shut down, and
all that was left was the desire.  It frightens me.  I've never been so
completely out of control before.  He could have killed me, and I don't
think I could have stopped him.  Even now, there is still a part of me
that longs for him...  I don't know how to deal with this.  I don't love
him.  I don't want to sleep with him.  And I especially don't want to
think about what he did.  I still ache from it.  Did he do the same to
Beauty?  The spot is so well hidden.  Only Riftvan would be likely to see
it, and Riftvan isn't here.  I wish he was.  But part of me dreads his
return.  I don't know how I'll be able to face him, after what I've done. 
For I will have to explain this to him, and how can I do that when I
cannot even explain it to myself?