“As if I would pollute a pure-water spring!” he said indignantly as he shrugged off his pack. Sitting on the pavement, he unlaced the boots and tugged them off, and finally peeled off his socks with grimaces and gasps. “Oh! Ow! Ah!”

His feet had indeed gotten a few blisters; not many, but two had rubbed raw and were now oozing. Poor lad.

Elen grabbed up a hallow-wood bucket stored next to the rim of the pool. After dipping it into the softly burbling spring, she carried it over to a wood trough, poured the water in, and let half of it flow into a wash basin. After they’d both washed their hands and faces, Kem bathed his feet with gasps of pain. He scrounged in his pack for a vial of gelatinous wax-leaf oil. As he smeared the oil on the blisters, his gasps were succeeded by sighs of relief as the ointment soothed some of the pain. She handed him a small brush. He began to clean their boots of the day’s dust and grime.

Couriers before her time had built fires in a crude stone hearth set against the outer curve of the pavement. She sat cross-legged as she arranged kindling she’d stored here months ago, and lit a fire with her tinder box. While she waited for the water to boil, she noted in her logbook the encounter with the elder and the gift of the food, as well as their stopover in the Spires for the night, listed as “seasonal inspection, autumn, Year Eighteen of the Magnolia Emperor.”

When the water boiled in her little copper kettle, she brewed a single cup of precious Eloquent Flower Tea in the small iron pot in which she’d intended to cook up a tasty sausage and cheese porridge for their supper. Her stomach growled.

“This will take the edge of hunger off,” she said, handing the cup to Kem.

“I don’t mind.” He sipped at the tea, then drained the whole cup in one thirsty gulp. “I haven’t had this tea before. It’s sweet.”

“I save it for special occasions.”

“I’m not sure I like it.” He yawned. “That was the longest day’s walk yet. What are you going to show me?” He gestured toward the scaffolding above. “What is that? How does it stay up? Do the tower doors ever open? Are there stairs?”

“We have to wait until the moon reaches zenith. Go ahead and take a nap now. I’ll wake you.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not yet.”

“Guess you’re used to it. I’m glad you let me walk with you for the full route this time. It really does help me realize I don’t want to Declare for courier any more than I want to be a cobbler. Does anyone know? Is it just me who doesn’t know?”

“You’re finding your way.”