Zantheus took some time to move on from his reluctance.

Was that it? Was it just time to move on? Was he going to be consulted no further in the matter? He had not given his permission. His pride wounded, it was a little while before his right foot moved forwards, seemingly of its own accord, and he started following Anthē, Tromo and their new acquaintances.

Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, he decided, that was all he had to do, no need to think about anything else. Soon you’ll be back in Qereth, in Aythia.

Only it was so difficult not to think about anything else. How long would he have to spend in this forest? How long would it be until he got home? The event of losing Leukos had taken his mind off things temporarily, but now that he was moving again it sank bank into its old patterns. He was almost completely consumed by a desire to be somewhere other than where he was now, to get back. How he longed to get back. For a while he trailed behind the others, gripped by these thoughts, but in an effort to alleviate them, after some time he moved ahead to talk to his new guides and ask them some questions, a trick he had learned on board ship with Tromo.

“How long have you lived in this forest, then?” he said, coming up behind them.

“Don’t be so rude, Zantheus,” chided Anthē, “you interrupted me.” She was feeling very irritated by him. “Conn and Feanna were just telling me that they’ve lived here for about four years now.”

“Why would you choose to live in a forest?” Zantheus went on with condescension, undeterred by Anthē’s telling off.

“I was just asking them that, actually,” said Anthē said.

“Is it that strange to you that we live in a forest?” asked Conn.

“Well,” said Zantheus, “normal people live in houses in villages and towns, do they not?” Anthē flinched when he emphasised the word ‘normal’. Was he deliberately going out of his way to insult these people? She shot him an angry look.

“Yes, I suppose that’s what most people do…” said Conn, altering Zantheus’s word. “But not everyone.”

“Why did you decide to live in a forest then?” Zantheus carried on in his patronising tone. He was not so easily taken in by these careless wastrels –they clearly knew nothing of discipline and hard work.

“One thing is that we thought it would be good for Ethall,” said Feanna.

“Really?” said Zantheus. “How could it possibly benefit a child to grow up in a forest away from civilised society?”

“Oh, there are benefits,” said Feanna patiently. Anthē was amazed that she and Conn had not lost their tempers with Zantheus yet. Admittedly she did find the trio a little odd herself, but that was no cause for such behaviour.

“Such as what?” said Zantheus.

“Well,” said Feanna, “there are a good deal of things that the forest has to teach to those who are willing to learn. How to listen, for one. How to find your way if you’re lost, for another. The power in letting go... Many things.”

Zantheus did not think he had ever heard such nonsense in all his life. Perhaps these two had gone mad, like everyone was saying could happen in this forest. Was he only capable of finding mad guides? He sighed.

Just at that moment Tromo and Ethall decided to take a break from playing tig. Ethall took her mother’s hand. Tromo fell into step alongside Anthē, but he didn’t take her hand as usual; he wanted to show off how grown-up he was. Anthē continued to ask the pair questions about their life in the forest, and for a while Zantheus remained silent, listening to them. She asked them whether they had met any of the strange creatures Leukos had mentioned, about the most comfortable way to sleep at night, how often they met other travellers. Eventually Anthē came to ask “So what do you do all day?” Though she had thoroughly hated her own profession, she had some sense of a work-ethic.

“We’re wayguides, like my husband mentioned,” Feanna said.

“What does that mean?”

“We find people who are lost in the forest and help show them the way through.”

“And you really don’t ask for any money?”

“Of course not. We can live perfectly well off of the forest, we have no need for money.”

Zantheus could not believe his ears. Preposterous. Did they really expect her to fall for that?

Apparently Anthē had no problem falling for it. “Well, it’s lucky we found you when we did then!” she said happily.

Zantheus was unimpressed. How could Anthē swallow these lies so easily? Nobody just did things for other people for free. Except maybe Leukos...but he was mad. And a lot of help he had turned out to be anyway... Or there was the woman running the orphanage at Ir, Merimina... No, she was an exception. This couple were lying. They had to be. He decided he would leave them later when night fell, and Anthē and Tromo could come with him, or not. That was up to them. If they wanted to follow these strangers, that was fine.

The conversation continued for some time. Anthē asked them about the other people they had helped show through the forest, all the while commenting on how lucky it was for them to have chanced upon one another. When their stomachs started to grumble, it was decided it was time for dinner. Anthē was not a very experienced cook, so she jumped at the chance to pool resources with Feanna. The end result –on this occasion, soup– was delicious. This started to thaw Zantheus’s mistrust, if ever so slightly. People who cooked as well as that could not really be that bad, could they? Maybe he would carry on with them a little further, if only to keep enjoying the cooking. They were very odd, but perhaps they really were ‘wayguides’ like they said. An idea occurred to him.

“Conn and Feanna,” he said to the newcomers, “may I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” said Feanna.

“If you really do know Leukos…what does he look like?”

Feanna laughed.

“Are you still so slow to trust us?” asked Conn. Without leaving time for Zantheus to answer, he continued “Leukos is tall and thin, and these days has taken to usually wearing green. He also has red hair.”

Zantheus waited a moment. That was all true, but something had been missed.

As if reading his mind, Conn went on, “And, the most important thing to know about him, I suppose, is that he never stops writing. Ever. He is always writing on parchment which he carries around with him.”

“Oh. So you do know him.”

“I am sorry that you deemed us so untrustworthy.”

This seemed to placate Zantheus. As the conversation with Anthē resumed, he pondered the situation. The newcomers had been able to describe Leukos accurately, so they probably did know him. Of course, they could have heard a description of him from somewhere else, but it did not feel as if they were lying (although Zantheus did not know how to recognise a liar). At the same time, even if they did know Leukos, that did not entirely recommend them to him. And yet, he was loath to admit, Anthē was right: at the moment they were the best that he had. He decided that he would not abandon them all just yet, but stay with them a bit longer to see how things turned out. So Zantheus went to sleep that night in tacit acceptance of his new temporary guides, Conn and Feanna, and their daughter, Ethall.