Farilane had already noted the lack of tableware, which was not surprising. Everyone had knives, and most used scoops or spoons fashioned from shells, curved stones, or carved wood. She’d never seen a two-prong fork outside Percepliquis, although even there, it was exclusively used as a serving utensil. The novelty of the fork to convey food to mouth was only seen inside the palace. Fingers and torn bread were the primary substitutes outside the city, and if there was a proper etiquette for dining with monks, Farilane would learn it next time. She snatched the bowl of lamb and scooped wonderfully hot, sticky clumps of roast onto her plate. With three fingers, she shoved a wad of stringy meat into her mouth, and while she chewed, her hands went in search of cheese.

“Hildreth is our cheesemaker,” the abbot informed them.

In a delicious stupor caused by the explosion of flavor in her mouth, Farilane barely noticed the abbot indicating the monk seated across from him. As it turned out, Thorlac and Hildreth were the names of the other two dining with them. Hildreth was a stocky, middle-aged woman cursed with a large nose and a shadowy mustache, but she had beautiful dark eyes and a propensity to smile while hiding her teeth. Thorlac was an elderly man with wrinkled, sagging features and quivering hands. His eyes were not pretty. They also never left Farilane.

After biting into an overlarge wedge of orange cheese, Farilane nodded and grunted her approval at the woman. After two solid mouthfuls of food and a swallow of what turned out to be lukewarm water in the jug, Farilane’s mind reengaged. “Unusual forest you have here.”

“In what way?” Thorlac asked, a bit too quickly.

He had anticipated the subject, if not the question. The monk had placed a bit of cheese on his plate but hadn’t touched it or anything else. He’s not here to eat.

Farilane considered the blunt route of asking, “So what’s with the crazy woman in the forest?” but discarded that for the more subtle, “That green path that goes in a circle, how is it maintained? More importantly—why?”

The three monks looked at each other, appearing perfectly innocent, but making a bit too much of the show.

“It’s sad to say but we don’t know much about the interior of the Crescent Forest,” the abbot explained. “We gather wood from its eaves, but as we do not hunt its animals, we have no need to explore its depths.”

“Isn’t curiosity a reason?”

“No, curiosity is a crime.”

This surprised Farilane. Not merely that anyone would be against discovery, but that they felt free to establish laws of their own. “How’s that?”