Heeeey, Boy Blue is back. Heeeey, Boy Blue is back.

The opening of chapter 4 is dead; long live the opening of chapter 4! Sixteen days to write nine pages, argh. And then I excised five of them, because they don't go there; they go later, in the carriage. But it's done, and pre-dawn light is bleeding into the world, and Scrutiny is going to the baths, and little apprentices are running around with little armfuls of firewood, and I never have to deal with the Unlit Nights again. At least not in this draft.

I like it when I fuss and fritter with an image, and then say Fuggit and write in a place-holder, and then go back and realize that the placeholder not only works quite well but, on a second look, holds a subtle and unintended clue to one of the big mysteries. Something in my brain is smarter than me.