Venn had always thought adventures would involve more heroic battles and less running and foot pain. The stories never mentioned those.

  She shifted her pack for the hundredth time, watching Reyn stride ahead as if they hadn't just run from venomous drakes. The Bormecian moved with the same easy stride whether walking on flat road or scrambling over rocks, apparently immune to the concept of fatigue.

  I used to think I was in good shape, Venn mused, wincing as another blister made itself known. The Temple stairs were clearly not preparing me for trekking. At least I am fast.

  "You're thinking very loudly," Reyn said without turning around.

  "How can you tell?"

  "You sigh every third step."

  Venn hadn't realized she'd been sighing. "I was just thinking about the Path. My path, I mean. Not this actual path. Though I'm thinking about this path too. These rocks are very... rocky."

  Reyn glanced back, the corner of her mouth twitching. "The Path of Helea?"

  "You know about it?"

  "You mentioned it yesterday. Before the drakes."

  Right. Venn had forgotten that in the excitement of not being eaten. "It's meant to be a rite of passage to become a Mage of Helea. Temple healers who want to become a Mage travel between three Temples, learning different approaches to healing magic. We're supposed to help communities along the way, spreading Helea's blessing."

  "Sounds familiar," Reyn said, sidestepping a particularly aggressive thistle.

  "I was just thinking the same thing!" Venn quickened her pace to walk alongside the warrior. "Your pilgrimage and our Path. Both involve traveling to help others, proving ourselves worthy of a new status. Though yours seems to involve more giant rats and monster fighting."

  "And yours involves more actual healing and less property damage, I assume."

  "Usually. Though Elder Adra says I have a gift for creating chaos in perfectly ordered situations." Venn paused. "She didn't mean it as a compliment, I think."

  They walked in silence for a while. It wasn't a weird kind of silence. Venn found herself studying Reyn from the corner of her eye. The Bormecian was unlike anyone she'd met at the Temple. Direct where others were diplomatic, practical where others were theoretical. And despite her intimidating presence, there was something oddly comforting about her matter-of-fact approach to everything. She looked menacing and dangerous, and friendly and safe at the very same time.

  "Oh!" Venn spotted a familiar sight ahead. "There's a shrine to Helea. We should stop."

  The shrine was typical of roadside holy sites: a small stone structure housing a statue of Helea, her hands extended in blessing. Offerings of flowers and herbs lay at the base, some fresh, others wilting. A traveling merchant's cart was parked nearby, its owner kneeling before the shrine.

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  Venn approached reverently, pulling her Temple medallion from beneath her travel clothes. The proper words came automatically: "Blessed Helea, guide of healers, we thank you for safe travels and the wisdom to help rather than harm."

  She knelt, touching her medallion to the ground before the statue. The traveling merchant finished his own prayers and stood, nodding to her respectfully before returning to his cart.

  What surprised Venn was Reyn stepping forward, studying the shrine with her head tilted and muscular arms across her chest.

  "Should I... do something?" the Bormecian asked quietly.

  Venn blinked. "You want to pay respects to Helea?"

  "She's a goddess of healing. Seems worth acknowledging." Reyn shifted awkwardly. "We have different customs back home. We're not exactly the godly-kind. I don't want to offend."

  Something warm bloomed in Venn's chest. "You won't offend. Just... speak from your heart?"

  Reyn nodded, then knelt with considerably less grace than her usual movements suggested. She was clearly mimicking what she'd seen Venn do, but her large frame made the gesture look like a bear attempting ballet. A gracious bear, but still.

  "Helea," Reyn said in the same tone she might use to address a particularly stern elder. "Thank you for your healers. They're useful. I promise to keep this one safe while she learns her craft and to run faster than the things chasing her." She paused. "Also, your temple has good soup. At least here."

  Venn covered her mouth to hide a laugh that was part amusement, part touched emotion. It was possibly the least eloquent prayer ever offered at a Helea shrine, and yet somehow one of the most sincere.

  As Reyn stood, brushing dirt from her knees, the merchant approached them. He was older, with the weathered look of someone who'd spent decades on the roads.

  "Pardon the intrusion," he said, "but you're heading south? Toward Westkeep?"

  "We are," Venn said.

  Reyn nodded. "The Temple of Healing to be exact."

  "I'm one of Helea's followers, you see," Venn said with a smile.

  "Might want to avoid the village of Rivier. It's close enough to the main road for many to spend the night after long travels. It's a day's detour, but..." He glanced around and leaned in toward them. "It's under 'protection' now. Red hands painted on the inn door, if you take my meaning."

  "The Crimson Hand controls a whole village?" Venn felt her stomach drop.

  "Controls is a strong word. They take their cut, keep the peace their way. But travelers who ask too many questions tend to have accidents. And the others are surprisingly often robbed right after leaving." He touched his cap. "Safe travels to you both."

  As his cart rumbled away, Venn turned to find Reyn looking thoughtfully in the direction he'd indicated.

  "We're not going to Rivier," Venn said firmly.

  "I'm curious about Western villages," Reyn mused. "Haven't seen one yet."

  "We're not going to a village controlled by bandits."

  "It's on the way..."

  "Reyn."

  "I'm just saying, it would be educational. Cultural exchange. Good for my Pilgrimage."

  Venn groaned. She felt that Reyn's version of 'educational' would often involve someone trying to stab them. "Can we at least get the venom back to the Temple first?"

  "Of course," Reyn agreed readily. Too readily. "Temple first. Then cultural education."

  They resumed walking, and Venn found herself thinking about paths again. The official Path of Helea was supposed to be a structured journey between established Temples, full of careful study and practice. Instead, she was traipsing through the wilderness with a Bormecian warrior on a Pilgrimage, who thought bandits-controlled villages sounded 'educational.'

  When did I become someone who runs from drakes and considers visiting dangerous villages? she wondered. Fair enough, the Vescori was my idea, but...

  But she knew the answer. It had started the moment Reyn crashed through those Temple doors carrying a dying man, turning Venn's orderly world of theory and careful procedures into something far messier and infinitely more real.

  And interesting, Venn thought, stealing a glance at the Bormecian.

  "Stop sighing," Reyn called back. "We're almost to the main road."

  "I wasn't sighing," Venn said. "I was breathing thoughtfully."

  "Is that what you're calling it?"

  Despite herself, Venn smiled. Her feet hurt, her pack was too heavy, and they were probably going to end up in Rivier despite her protests. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was where she needed to be.

  Even if that place involved far too much running and more prayers for her life than to pay her respects.

  Though, she thought, remembering Reyn's awkward but earnest prayer, maybe there's more than one way to honor the divine.

  The venom vials clinked softly in her pack as they walked. They were proof of their success so far. No creatures had died, she'd managed her first field magic, however briefly, and they'd discovered more about the Crimson Hand's growing influence.

  Not bad for her first real adventure outside of the Temple. Even if she'd really prefer fewer teeth next time.