With care, and yet quickly -- for Blodwen's screaming is clear and she is certain that they may not have much time -- Moiraine draws the bird from the wire and casts the cage to one side.

"Hold still," she murmurs; it is evident from the jay's actions that it understands her, or at least understands help. "This will not hurt."

She channels delicate threads of blue and white, and the water falls from the jay's feathers, leaving the bird completely dry.