When Seeker stepped into the common room, Beautiful was already there—packed, ready, and chatting with Faint-Resolve. Or rather, Strong-for-the-Faith, as he was known now.
“Here’s a bedroll for you, Miss Beautiful,” he said. “I won’t need it anymore. And Companion’s for you, Seeker.” He nodded toward the familiar roll. “I’m leaving today too. My tour is over.” The clouds were gone from his face, and a smile broke through. It was the first time Seeker had seen him really smile. “I’m going home to my wife!”
Miss Cheerful bustled into the room. “Morning, Seeker-for-Sandwiches!” she chirped, slipping a small linen parcel into Beautiful’s pack. She paused, giving Beautiful a knowing look. “Though whatever you’ve been seeking, I dare say you’ve found it.”
“They really are a cute couple,” Strong-for-the-Faith added.
“Yes, they are! Now sit—all of you. Traveling on an empty stomach is no good.” This time, Miss Cheerful joined them without a thought.
Strong-for-the-Faith gave thanks for their breakfast, for Miss Cheerful, and for the journey ahead. He prayed the King’s blessing over Seeker and Beautiful.
Then Miss Cheerful added, solemn and soft, “Keep Seeker and Beautiful safe with Your hand—on their journey, and in their lives.”
After they ate, Strong-for-the-Faith set out north on the Narrow Way, and Seeker and Beautiful turned south—Miss Cheerful standing before the ruins of the Interpreter’s House, waving.
***
The day was beautiful—clear, bright, and touched with a lazy breeze. Clouds drifted overhead like they had nowhere better to be. Beautiful walked beside him, chatting about everything and nothing.
When they reached the Wicket Gate, Beautiful gestured toward the summer parlor. “Honey, can we stop and rest a bit?” she asked.
It was just as dusty as he remembered. “There’s a well,” Beautiful said. “Should be a bucket nearby. Could you bring me some water please?” She found a broom and began sweeping. When he returned, she was already wiping the table with a dry cloth. She dampened it, cleaned the pitcher, and filled it with water from the bucket.
How had she known about the well? Or the bucket. She was more familiar with the Wicket Gate than he was. But the sun was already climbing, and they still had a long way to go.
“Beautiful, what are you doing?” He paced. She didn’t answer—just kept cleaning. “I thought you wanted to rest?”
“There,” she said at last. She motioned to the armchair, swatted the dust off the couch, and sat. “I’ve been thinking…”
“When we should have been walking.”
She frowned. “I needed to rest,” she said. “Besides, someone has to clean—for the next Pilgrims.”
“I’ve been thinking,” she repeated.
While we should have been walking. He didn’t say it out loud.
“On the way,” she said, “let’s stop and visit your parents.”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“But why not, Seeker? I have to meet them. I won’t marry you if I don’t.” She paused. “No—I will marry you. You know that. But my parents won’t give us their blessing.”
Seeker felt dizzy. “It’s out of the way, Beautiful. It’s a long trip. And you’ll be tired.” She wasn’t buying it. “Next time,” he said. “I promise. You’ll meet them.”
A stubborn look crossed her face. “You take me—or we turn around right now.”
Seeker sighed. “OK,” he said at last. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She stood, smiled, and leaned in to kiss him.
If she noticed his unease, he couldn’t tell. He was going to have to tell her eventually, anyway.
***
When they stepped out of the Wicket Gate, Beelzebub’s Castle loomed over them—deserted, cold, and quiet. Beautiful’s eyes lit up. “Seeker, let’s see what’s inside!”
“No.”
“It’s been empty three hundred years! It’ll be an adventure, like we used to do.”
“No.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “You used to be fun,” she pouted.
Unbelievable. Did she have no concept of time? “Beautiful, baby—do you want to cross the Slough in the dark?” He paused. “No. Now stop being a baby. Next time. I promise.”
***
The sun had reached its height and was already sinking in the west. Beautiful had run out of things to talk about. Or maybe she was just mad. He couldn’t tell which.
“I’m tired,” she moaned. “My feet hurt.”
“Of course you’re tired, Beautiful.” Nobody but you would clean the Wicket Gate on a trip like this. He didn’t say it out loud.
“I’m hungry.” She stomped her feet. “You’re a slave driver.”
“Now your feet hurt even worse, don’t they, little baby?” He paused, then added. “I’m pretty hungry myself.” He pointed at an olive tree. “There. Let’s see what Miss Cheerful packed for us.”
Beautiful sat on the soft grass in the shadow of the olive tree. Around her, flowers swayed—long, slender stems of deep royal blue, touched with soft violet undertones and golden veins. Three upright, three curving downward. She took the linen parcel from her bag and carefully unwrapped it.
Inside were two sandwiches. “One for me,” she said. Then sweetly, “And one for my husband.” She didn’t even blush this time.
Birds sang around them. Flowers swayed. And she looked so beautiful. He wanted to stay here—just lie down on the grass and forget everything. But time wouldn’t wait for them.
Beautiful took off one boot, then peeled off her sock. A blister bloomed on her heel—and two more on her toes. “I told you my feet hurt,” she said.
“Poor baby,” he said. “No more stomping your feet.”
***
The sun was sinking behind the horizon when they reached the Slough. Seeker was surprised by what he saw. There were no steppingstones—not even the rickety bridge he’d imagined from Companion’s explanation.
Piles had been driven deep into the muck, anchoring the bridge where the Slough had once threatened to swallow everything. The thick hardwood planks were solid beneath their feet, remarkably well-preserved, supported by timber framing that stretched across the breadth of the mire. Low railings lined either side.
When they stepped on the bridge, Beautiful grabbed Seeker’s arm and held tight. With her other hand she pointed toward the edge of the Slough. “There.”
“There what?”
“That’s where I fell in.” Her whole body shuddered.
Seeker could almost feel the mire of the Slough again, leeching warmth from his skin. He remembered how he’d struggled—how it had felt like days—until he finally passed out. If not for Companion…
She was pointing at the edge—within sight of the grass, the flowers. You could still hear the sparrows singing. He laughed.
Her eyes darkened. No flare. No lightning. Just sadness—quiet and complete. She let go of his arm, turned and trudged slowly across the bridge.
“Beautiful, wait. I’m sorry,” he said, chasing after her. “I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just—well, when I thought about how I almost died…” He caught his breath. “You’ve got to admit…”
She turned around, tears streaming down her face. “You always underestimate me.” Bitterness edged her voice. “You’re strong. I’m weak. I hurt. But somehow—you even hurt better than me.”
“I’m sorry,” he stammered.
“I thought you understood me. That’s why I love you,” she said. “I thought you were different from everyone else.”
He reached for her hand, but she pushed it away—then turned and crossed the bridge alone.
***
A thicket of trees stood in the hollow on the far side of the Slough. Beautiful had already set down her pack and was laying her bedroll out.
Seeker sighed. At least they’d crossed safely. He regretted the laugh. The things she had said about him—those weren’t true. He didn’t think of her that way. Didn’t she know that? Why did she have to be so difficult all the time?
He placed his bedroll near hers—close enough to keep her safe, far enough to give her space.
The stars began to appear. The Bear had started his rounds. It was far too late in the year for the Hunter, but maybe he’d catch sight of him in the morning—just before sunrise.
Seeker gathered a few sticks and carefully arranged them in the firepit left by earlier travelers. From his satchel, he took out the flint and steel—another gift from Companion. Within minutes, he had a small fire blazing.
Beautiful was already resting on her bedroll, so he laid down beside her. She stood and picked up her bedroll.
She walked to the far side—the direction he was facing—and carefully unrolled her bedroll so it touched his. Then she lay down and pressed her full body against him. She took his head in both hands and kissed him deeply.
“Let’s not fight, Seeker. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it either.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I love you, Seeker. I really do.”
