Elder Yatsura's daughter brought them news while Jian and her mother sat, stone-faced, waiting. "Mother, they're saying a man has come from Kesmet. A traveller."

"From Kesmet? What peculiar timing, don't you think?" Elder Yatsura shot Mother a pointed glance. Kesmet, well-known for being home to many citizens with Paths directly linked to the Creator, was said to have the strongest spiritual relationship with Maere in the northern lands.

Yatsura wasn't the only one interested; visitors to Elsinoor were rare, even in summer. "Perhaps we should adjourn for now," suggested Elder Tuina, "and think this through over the evening. Jian may find some meditation brings about better understanding."

Jian could hardly suffer the thought of it. Two days ago, she'd yearned for any sign of her Path, her place in the world, yet now she didn't think she could stand talking about it a single moment longer. The other women went on speaking as if she weren't even there.

Elder Tuina heaved a sigh. "Of course. Nim, will you watch her this evening, and try to learn more?"

Mother nodded.

"Then let us reconvene in the morning, and see what news our traveller might bring us from Kesmet."

The town square was abuzz: A man rested at the edge of the well where the people of Elsinoor gathered their daily water. Jian couldn't see him over the heads of the dozen villagers clamouring for news from Kesmet, a day's walk away.

"Goddess be, I hope he stays awhile."

Jian turned her head. At her elbow was the familiar face of her favourite classmate, Gillele. "Oh? Why's that?"

Gil sidled up beside Jian, the tip of one thumbnail clamped between her teeth. "I saw the traveller when he came in. Very nice-looking, you know, and my Path didn't show me a husband, but that doesn't mean I won't have one someday!"

Jian couldn't help but laugh. Gil hadn't been the most social girl when they'd been in lessons together, but it seemed her same-age schoolmate was blooming now that she was sixteen. "You've only just laid eyes on him!"

"Oh, Jian. I have five sisters, you know? Sometimes the most important thing is that I get there first. And sorry to say, when you're in the middle, you usually end up losing. So if I can meet a boy, any boy, and he's interested in talking to me, it doesn't matter too much what he looks like."

Jian did not know yet what, exactly, he looked like. Wild, dark brown curls were all either of them could see from where they stood.

Gil, an inch shorter, rose up on tiptoe to see better. When Jian didn't respond, she side-eyed her friend. "What about you, Jian? Surely you've been visited by the Creator by now. Was it a partner Path?"

"No," Jian said quietly, grateful her botched Pathfinding hadn't yet become village gossip. "I didn't see any partner in my vision."

"Not disappointed?" Gillele's sidelong glance implied she already knew the answer.

"Of course not." Jian hadn't made any secret of the fact that she didn't expect to see or even hope for a life partner in her Pathfinding. She and Mother had always been fine on their own, and while company her age would have been nice, she couldn't imagine leaving Mother to live alone in her advanced years. Nim would often forget to take meals; still insisted on hanging her massive, freshly-dyed rugs by herself from the highest beams in their little dwelling, despite her daughter's constant begging to at least summon Jian when she was in the next room. Mother worked too hard--unlike Jian, she was a perfectionist as well as an artist. When she threw herself into a project, she forged ahead nonstop until she was satisfied.

How she'd ended up with a bookish, knowledge-hungry daughter like Jian, brimming with less-than-useful information about history and botany and even carpentry, neither of them could be certain. When Jian was out in the woods or on the plains discovering new things, gathering herbs and berries, or studying the movement of stars, Mother could always be found inside with her dyes and fabrics.

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They made quite a pair. And if Jian were honest with herself, a Path working with any of those things would have been preferable to a life dedicated to the Creator's service.

Gillele, however, only had eyes for the large family she hoped to have one day. "Well, I'm disappointed! I mean, I would have been fine with a wife or a nari, if I couldn't have a husband, but it was my dream to have a life partner who would make children with me, you know? I thought Maere would have gotten the message; I tried to send her my thoughts whenever I could."

"I'm sure She knew. Everyone does, you goose." Jian chuckled as Gillele propelled her forward into the crowd for a better look, relieved to be talking about someone else's future for a change. Her schoolfriend's family was one of the largest in the village, with a half-dozen daughters all sired by the same two parents. All six girls sported the same freckles and long, straight brown hair. Gil made no secret of the fact that she wanted to be the matriarch of a home just like the one she'd grown up in.

Jian felt her friend probably felt pity for them sometimes, imagining Jian and Mother alone in their small house. Father had cut contact when Jian was small, as was the custom, when he married out. Grandmother had passed a year later. Even without them, though, life as a family of two suited Jian fine. She was prepared to stay with Mother as long as they both lived, assuming she never found a life partner. It was better not to get one's hopes up too much, when so many found their romantic fates in the hands of the Creator.

Even so, this mysterious traveller wasn't unattractive, Jian couldn't help but note. Older than she, though not by too much; he had perhaps nineteen or twenty years. Shadows of a beard lined his youthful face. Thick eyebrows, darker than any of the boys Jian knew, were drawn together in a moody expression over even darker eyes. He wore good-quality, dyed breeches and a tunic with excellent stitching, but his clothes were rumpled and torn. Most surprising of all was the sword hanging at his side.

A sword! An uncommon accessory in the northern lands, and one that had obviously drawn the attention of the crowd as well, who murmured among themselves. Jian heard Gillele take a quick breath when she spotted it. "And capable?"

"If not a little dangerous." Jian felt uneasiness rise in the pit of her stomach. What use would a sword be in Kesmet, a town with a reputation for its holiness? Yet the man looked equally uncomfortable wearing the blade as the villagers did when they saw it, as though it surprised him each time he shifted and found the weight of the scabbard resting on his leg.

"Relax," Gil said. "You wouldn't walk from Kesmet alone in the dark with no protection, would you?"

Jian had to admit she wouldn't. She felt safe enough in the wilderness surrounding Elsinoor. But who knew what lay beyond? "I suppose so."

The man—they still didn't know his name—appeared exhausted and drawn. The people of the crowd shifted uneasily from foot to foot, unaccustomed to lodging travellers with weapons. Though it was customary for a volunteer to offer their home, this visitor had quickly become a spectacle, rather than a guest, with the villagers agitating amongst themselves over what to do rather than speaking directly to him.

"He looks like he's about to fall asleep. He'll tumble right into the well, sitting like that," Gillele observed.

Jian agreed. The man's eyes were slits, watching the surrounding activity, but he struggled to stay alert. He didn't trust them, she realized with a start, any more than they did him.

Why? Elsinoor was on the northern extremes of the settled world, so they rarely received visitors, but had an excellent reputation for hospitality among the other towns of South Isla. Particularly in Kesmet, Elsinoor's nearest neighbour. Perhaps, Jian thought, there was something they didn't yet know about this man, especially if he felt it necessary to carry steel into their village. His body language seemed too closed for a Kesmettan, and his demeanour standoffish, though Jian didn't find him menacing in the way some of the other villagers obviously seemed to.

She found herself stepping forward, to the surprised murmurs of those nearest the girls. "Are you all right?"

The slitted eyes widened slightly to get a better look at her, and Jian saw they were deep brown as well, and puffy underneath, lined with shadows. "Only resting. I've come a long way. Is there a place where travellers stay and eat, here?"

"No." Jian shook her head. "We don't have such a place. Not many visitors come this far north, I'm sorry to say."

"But you can come home with me," Gillele piped up. "My sister just left home to live with her new husband, so we have some extra space."

Jian wanted to be surprised, but she wasn't, really. It was Gil's way to strike while the iron was hot, and the absence of their same-age peers seemed to give her confidence where the older women hung back, watching with concern.

The man's face creased further, his dark eyebrows drawing from the furrowed brow. "That would be most welcome. It's very kind of you to offer."

Yet not an unexpected offer, Jian had no doubt. He'd accepted in a heartbeat, when any Elsinooran would surely have protested once or twice. Perhaps, she thought, this man was already skilled at getting what he wanted.

She would have to watch him, and Gillele, she realized. An unscrupulous visitor could take advantage of Gil's obvious angling for a life partner. "And you are...?"

"My name is Madrigal." He paused. "Of Laudonia."

"Laudonia? I don't know it at all," Gillele said. "But I can't wait to hear about it. I'm Gillele. Gil, for short."

"I'm Jian."

"Come." Gillele smoothed her dress and put on her most welcoming smile. "I'll show you the way to my home."