The woman fanned herself with a hand. “I think I would faint should such an exalted visitor taste my humble bread. My thanks! My thanks!” Then she, too, was gone.

Elen was happy to be left to herself. She set aside her curiosity about the mysterious runner and busied herself cooking barley porridge for her supper, which she flavored with late-season berries and aromatic spine-seal she’d gleaned from alongside the path as she’d had the chance. Afterward, because she didn’t expect anyone to come into the temple, she took the opportunity to strip naked and wash thoroughly. She went to bed wearing only her undershift, grateful for this rare chance on the road to be this clean and comfortable. Sfendia Moat was an orderly and peaceful village. She hardly expected the prince’s party to be ready to go at dawn, especially if the archon was allowed to entertain them with feasting and drinking, as a local official would surely wish to do.

As always, in Sfendia, she rolled her blanket onto her preferred lower bunk, which had a view out through open shutters and onto the courtyard. From here, she could both hear and see the fountain.

Every Heart Temple had a fountain in its courtyard, a constant stream of potable water poured into a basin and trough. As it was said in the temple liturgy: All may drink at the Heart, for it is the knowledge of the Heart which eases our thirst and gives sustenance to life.

Some of these fountains were simple, some elaborate; a few were pure-water, while most were spring water or water piped in from the nearest free-flowing stream or river. Each was unique, according to the principle that each heart is bound to its own unique destiny beneath the High Heavens. The fountain in this humble temple was Elen’s favorite of all the temples she stopped at on her regular circuit.

Its shallow, circular basin was a perfect place to cool off in the heat of summer. Children often came here to play, splashing under the kindly gaze of Custodian Ralt. People with ailments they hoped he could cure would sit on the benches waiting their turn to see him. But what made this fountain so particularly wonderful wasn’t Ralt’s company, however much she enjoyed their games of draughts and their rambling discussions. It was the playful design of the fountain itself.

Rather than depicting an animal, as most did, it used the varied height and diameter of its many spouts to create a kind of endless music. Normally, at night, from the hostel, the water’s melody amid the quiet village would soothe her to sleep. This evening, she was disturbed by the constant buzz of noise and occasional bursts of huzzahs or clamorous bouts of energetic song from the archon’s compound.