Unlike Bright, Wonderful was a fussy baby. She wailed for every reason—and for none at all—her piercing cries echoing through the cave.
Bright filled the days playing with her, talking to her as if she understood every word. She surprised them all when she pulled herself upright, stumbled into her first steps, and soon found her voice.
“Wonderful, look!” Bright called.
“No!” Wonderful shot back, her favorite word as sharp as her cry.
When Seeker ventured from the cave, he found the giant gone. The camp lay deserted, as if it hadn’t been touched in days—perhaps weeks. He searched the rocky slope, even walked down to the Arbor, but there was no trace. Giant Wrath had vanished.
When Seeker told Beautiful, she let out a long sigh of relief. “It’s so boring here. I’d give anything for a bowl of Miss Cheerful’s stew again.” She chuckled, the sound soft but genuine.
Seeker checked again and again over the next few days. Only when he and Beautiful were certain that Wrath was truly gone did they resolve to continue the climb to Palace Beautiful, gathering up their few belongings to set out once more.
Seeker hefted the burden onto his back and gripped his staff. Beautiful cradled Wonderful in her arms, while Comfort took Bright by the hand.
“Walk!” demanded Wonderful, wriggling in Beautiful’s arms. “Walk!”
With a small shrug, Beautiful set her down. Wonderful darted up the trail, then stopped to scoop up a pebble, staring it in wide-eyed wonder.
Beautiful reached for her hand.
“No!” Wonderful yanked free and scampered a few steps ahead. She bent to snatch up another pebble and held it high. “Look, Bright!”
“Wonderful.” Beautiful let out a sigh, half tired, half amused. “If you’re going to walk, then walk—don’t stop for every pretty rock along the way.”
Wonderful darted ahead and stopped again. From a crack in the stone a daisy grew, small and stubborn. She plucked it and lifted it high. “Here, Mama!”
Soon Wonderful grew weary and stretched out her arms. Beautiful gathered her onto her hip. “Will this hill never end?” she muttered.
Seeker swiped the sweat from his brow and nodded toward the rise ahead. “I think that’s the top.”
“You said that the last time,” Beautiful shot back.
Bright stuck out his bottom lip, while Wonderful had already slipped into sleep against her mother’s shoulder.
To pass the time, Seeker told Bright about Palace Beautiful from his Book. Other than the Delectable Mountains, it was the loveliest place in the land. He spoke of the lions, too, cautioning, “Remember—they’re chained. They’re only there to test how brave you are.”
“I’m brave, Daddy!” Bright exclaimed.
Seeker nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, Bright. Yes, you are.”
Gradually tufts of grass broke through the stones, and the path began to level. Beautiful’s face lit up. “We did it!” she gasped between ragged breaths.
To the left of the way stood a small thicket of trees and a low wall of rough-hewn stone enclosing a narrow plot of land. Seeker set down his burden, and Beautiful eased herself to the ground, leaning back against a tree with Wonderful nestled in her lap. Bright sank beside her, pressing close.
Seeker pushed open the wrought-iron gate and stepped inside. Five headstones. Five names. His heart sank—he didn’t need to read them to know. He knelt at the first stone. Watchful. He swallowed hard. Discretion. Prudence. Piety. Charity.
He rose slowly, gave the stones one last lingering look, then turned away. Back at the gate, he trudged to his burden and heaved it onto his back. Bright had dozed off; Comfort gathered him gently into her arms.
“What is it?” Beautiful asked, shifting Wonderful higher on her shoulder as she stood.
Seeker only shook his head. He could not bring himself to speak.
When they reached the clearing, Palace Beautiful rose before them. Its red-brick walls and pale cornerstones stood weathered and crumbling. Stairs climbed to an arched entry, where white stone columns still held beneath the weight of centuries—edges worn but unbroken. Above, the roof had long since fallen, leaving jagged teeth of masonry biting into the sky.
“Of course,” Seeker said. “Everything changes. No Watchful. No Charity.”
Beautiful only stared.
“Come, my love,” he murmured. “There may be a cottage nearby.”
Seeker was right. Just around the bend stood a timber-framed cottage, much like the one they had stayed in near the Interpreter’s house. But no smoke curled from the chimney, and no voices drifted from within. Seeker strode to the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood. Then he knocked again, harder.
A well-dressed man opened the door. His face was kind, framed by graying hair, his build still strong though softened with age. There was a trace of swagger in the way he carried himself.
Beautiful lifted her eyes to him and smiled. “We are pilgrims on the Narrow Way,” she said. “We’re looking for a place to stay for a season.”
He looked kindly at Beautiful, Bright, and Wonderful. Then Seeker felt the man’s gaze rake over him—his shabby, sweat-drenched clothes, torn and patched. The heavy burden dragging at his shoulders. At last, the man’s eyes fixed on the dark bruise that still marred Seeker’s forehead after more than a year. Fear flickered across his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his glance darting back at Seeker, “I can spare provisions, but there’s no room here.”
They lingered a few minutes more, but when the door finally shut, lightning flashed in Beautiful’s eyes. “No room,” she scoffed. “Half the house is empty. No room!” She huffed, sharp and indignant.
Seeker set his burden down and sank onto the Palace steps. From the satchel he drew his pipe. He had to think. He needed a plan. But he was tired—so tired. And beneath the weariness, the old ire was beginning to stir.
