Bava Nisos eludes us so completely, and my weaker half wants to doubt its existence. But doubt is failure. I've sent my entourage along the path Saul described numerous times to no avail, but they continue to march. Last trip, I sent the cook with them—the urchin that calls himself Judge. Upon the party's return a few days later, the boy described a debilitating headache that struck midway through their crossing to the next isle. Only he was afflicted, but the headache grew worse the further they rowed. Tatyanna turned them around when his nose started bleeding. This must be a test of some sort. A puzzle for me to unravel...