On the road, given the weather and the inexperience of the two, things had not gone badly for Francis and Jam. They were both wet and cold, but before darkness had settled on them, they were able to find a sheltered spot and get a large fire blazing.

And though they were wet the shelter had kept out the worst of the sleet. When dawn broke the gray sky found them both still sleeping before still the warm coals of the fire. Despite the discomfort, they broke their camp soon after dawn, to regain the quick pace their plan required.

Jam walked from the camp to the road and on to the river to fill their water jugs. As he knelt by the water, he got the feeling of being watched. He heard a branch crack and looked downstream. There was a girl no older than he staring directly upstream at him. Her appearance was not uncommon, but her manner was strange. Her clothes and person were disheveled, but dry. She stared, but as he stared back her face gave not the merest flicker that she had seen him.