For fifteen days they'd walked, and the landscape changed ever-so-slightly as the trio grew closer to the southern pole than the northern. The weather abruptly began to turn as well, growing warmer by the day rather than colder. This change came as a relief to Madrigal, who'd balked at buying more clothing on the way that would only become a burdenThe growing season would be in full swing in Homeland by this time of year.

Quinn carried plenty of extra supplies, but Madrigal would be damned if he'd allow the other man to have the upper hand, even for a moment. Quinn's gear all seemed brand-new, and while it was clear he was an experienced woodsman and skilled at living out of doors, the sheer amount of clothing, tools and food he toted around smacked of wealth and set Madrigal's teeth on edge. The one satisfaction Madrigal derived was that Quinn visibly struggled with the weight of his pack, despite his buff physique. The newcomer had bitten off more than he could chew, but Quinn refused to leave anything behind, even the heavy boots that had to have become uncomfortably warm as they moved south.

The border city of Delle, in the middle of its dry season, would hopefully welcome the three overheated, exhausted travellers with all the hospitality Madrigal would have expected from a place boasting "the most beautiful weather, people and fruits in Isla." He'd never dreamed of seeing it one day for himself. Yet here he stood in front of the gates of Delle, half a moon cycle from everything he'd ever known or loved, in the company of two betrothed strangers as different as night and day. If Niall could have seen Madrigal in this situation, playing tour guide to a teenage evangelist and her off-kilter someday-husband, she would have howled with laughter.

Madrigal led the way as they walked toward the gates, festooned with banners and decorative sculptures of fish. He'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Wow." Jian, bringing up the rear, slowed her approach.

Madrigal felt the same way. "They say people come here from all over Isla to visit this place."

"It was the first city built using symbolism inspired by the landscape, rather than in Maere's image," Quinn commented. "That's why you see all this stonework inspired by aquatic life and local produce. The fruits that grow here don't flourish anywhere else on South Isla."

Quinn's knowledge annoyed Madrigal--he was the guide here, after all--but Jian's obvious interest subdued any retort. "Really? Have you had them?"

"I have. They're delicious." Quinn looked over his shoulder with a broad grin. "Why don't we try some when we reach the marketplace?"

"Maybe after we've had a rest and eaten something that isn't dehydrated. Come on, the lodging is this way." Madrigal strode through the entrance, trying not to display his irritation. Quinn had become easier to travel with since their discussion a few nights before, and he'd backed down from his possessive attitude toward Jian, but Madrigal still didn't trust the newcomer. Something about the man unnerved him deeply in a way he couldn't properly describe. He hadn't caught Quinn in any particular lie, but Madrigal had developed an excellent sense for deception, and he felt Quinn's frequently slow responses might be rooted in falsehoods.

And that didn't sit well with Madrigal at all.

Delle's prosperity could be seen in every corner of the city. People thronged the streets, and spectacular architecture overshadowed anything Madrigal had ever seen in the northlands. As Quinn had pointed out, the Goddess' presence had been muted here, despite Delle's position as a gateway to the South. The area boasted not only sunny, temperate weather year-round but multiple glasslike lakes and rolling hills, natural rarities that travellers from both sides came to see for themselves.

Madrigal made food, rather than amusement, his first priority. On the long walk from Elsinoor, he'd seen enough nature for a lifetime.

He invited Jian, but she wanted to rest, rather than eat. She and Quinn both had an uncanny ability to subsist on tea and weak soup for days on end, a lifestyle that didn't suit Madrigal. A proper meal came first. He didn't much care what Quinn did with the afternoon, as long as everyone let Jian be. Madrigal was satisfied when she shut the door to her room behind her and Quinn made no move to protest.

Travelling with the two of them tried his patience, but things were getting better. They were halfway to Homeland, now, and Madrigal was satisfied he'd put enough distance between himself and Kesmet that he had little need to worry anymore.

After a hearty meal at a pub, he made his way to the market, curious to learn what else Delle had to offer. He had only just reached it when he spied a familiar figure making its way to the ornate city gates. Madrigal watched with interest as Quinn walked with purpose out the exit and away from Delle, back toward the stone bridge that lay just outside the city.

What business, Madrigal had to ask himself, might Quinn have outside, when they'd only just arrived, and already passed the lake and the bridge? Nothing of interest had caught Madrigal's eye on the way. For all his talk about Delle's produce and beauty, Quinn didn't seem as if he planned to stick around. Perhaps this was why he hadn't insisted on staying behind to keep Jian company.

Madrigal couldn't pass up a rare chance to observe his travelling companion unhampered. Perhaps if he watched how Quinn acted when the others weren't around, he'd gain some insight into why the taller man made him feel so ill-at-ease. Drawing up the hood of his ragged cloak, Madrigal waited until Quinn's swishing ponytail had vanished over the crest of the stone bridge, then set out in cautious pursuit.