We ate a quiet breakfast of some granola Victoria made, and powdered milk. She kept apologizing for the taste, but I was hungry enough that it seemed a feast, especially with the wild honey Shad managed to talk out of some bees and the delicious fruit, sort of an apple-pear.

Quon seemed mopey and withdrawn, perhaps because he wanted to know what was in his bag and couldn’t. Not knowing certainly bugged me.

We’d walked a few miles when Frodo started barking. I looked down to see him staring at a weasel as if it were an escaped convict. Looking immediately at Quon, up ahead of us, I grabbed Frodo and held his jaws together.

“What’s he barking at?” Quon asked.

“Oh … nothing,” I said.

Quon looked as if he was going to come back and see, but he didn’t.

“Good move,” David whispered. “I’m not in the mood for sweet-and-sour weasel ribs.”

I smiled and nodded.

“If I ever have a brain transplant,” David said in a low voice, “I’ll ask for Shad’s.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because his brain has never been used.” He chuckled.

“He’s a man of great learning,” I said.

“He’s a man of encyclopedic ignorance,” David said. “Be careful or you’ll end up like him—old and smelly, bad breath and judgmental, never taking any pleasure in life.”

“I saw him that way at first,” I said. “But now, I don’t know …”

“He doesn’t embarrass you?” David asked.

“Sometimes. But maybe the problem isn’t him. Maybe it’s us.”

David raised his eyebrows. I felt stupid.

After lunch Quon and Malaiki picked up their hefty sacks, and Shad lifted his nearly full sack, draping it over his shoulder. Even if he didn’t let on, it had to upset him that he couldn’t even look inside his bag.

I tucked my sack in at my waist, thankful I’d picked up only four small stones and feeling sorry for the old man. Then I noticed the quiet smile on his face.

Clearly, he didn’t feel sorry for himself.

I slept fitfully, hearing things in the night, including the clip clop of a horse stopping at our camp, then stealthily leaving a few minutes later. What was going on?

I got up and took a burning stick from the dying fire but couldn’t find any tracks. To the west I saw the twinkling lights of what I assumed must be a few villages ahead. What awaited us there? Why did I feel such dread?

I went back to bed, awaking early to whistling starlings and a wonderful breakfast of cooked oats, milk, cheese, herbs, honeycomb, sliced senaba, and today’s mystery meat.