Back in her small room, Connie fretted over how she and Peter could navigate their tricky situation and make their way to Arden, or somehow get word to him. Wishing desperately that she had some inkling of how things worked in Dahria.

She corralled her rampaging thoughts by focusing on what she knew. That the Ireland passage was still opened and it shouldn't be. That Fanik and another Dahrian, a woman, had been to Earthside and visited with Hastings, the mining mogul, Findley's benefactor. That James was working with them and developing a device to eliminate needing a signaler to transit a passage. That Grayson and Ainsley likely were involved as well.

And Rennish too. Having observed Fanik's deference to her, she was obviously a ringleader on the Dahrian side to keep the passage open – perhaps even the ringleader. But how many other Dahrians were involved? The whole community? All of Dahrian Ireland?

She and Peter would have to tread carefully. Rennish held the advantage and appeared to be a powerful and wily woman. Connie decided she'd go with giving the impression that she was a little ditzy and impulsive, and clued out of any knowledge of larger plans involving the passage. That wouldn't even be much of a stretch.

The following morning, Connie was barely awake before Rennish walked in with a breakfast tray. Connie was surprised to see a cup of something frothy that smelled mocha-like next to a pancake topped with a berry preserve.

''You're kidding me. That's not really a cappuccino, is it?"

"You really had no idea what to expect here, did you? Now, tell me, how are you feeling? You two almost didn't make it through the passage."

"I feel okay. I slept well. And this looks great," Connie gestured to the food tray.

"Didn't Arden explain anything about using the passage?"

Okay. It's show time, Connie thought. "Some, but because I had decided I wasn't going with him, I didn't pay a lot of attention. I remembered - stay connected with a rope and though the end seems far away, eventually you get out. We shuffled our way through." Connie shrugged.

"Shuffle? Oh no, you need to run into the passage so that you get close to the halfway point before you start – shuffling - as you say. And then attempting a passage mid-day. It's so dense, no wonder you barely made it. Your friend wouldn't have if you hadn't been tied together."

"I want to go see him again as soon as I'm finished eating."

"What is he to you? You don't look related. Is he your lover?"

"Oh my god, no. He's not my lover. We're friends. Good friends."

"Tell me, Connie. Why are you here?" Rennish's expression was gentle and piercing all at the same time.

"I'm guessing you know a little about me. You called me Arden's love child. I met him for the first time maybe a year ago. He had recently found out about me and because the plan was to close the passage in Toronto, he decided to come get me and bring me to Dahria. My mother is no longer alive."

"And you didn't want to go back with him?"

"Not right then. I'm not a very brave person. It felt like too much. And I really didn't know him."

"What changed?"

"Um, well, I started regretting not going."

"And you came to Ireland. I understand that you had signalled the passage many years ago. So, you thought you'd come use it?"

"Ah, not really. I thought you'd closed the passage. Though sometimes I don't get things right. It's all kind of a fluke." Connie rambled on. "Peter hasn't traveled much. We decided to go to Ireland since I kind of know Ireland. It was more of a whim to check out where I thought I had felt the passage. And then it was open, and it seemed like, well, maybe I should chance it."

"And that was it? For someone who says they're not very brave, that was pretty risky. And why bring Peter with you?"

"I know. It was a bit mad. I had no idea how hard it would be. I think I'd built up a year's worth of regret for not going with Arden. And now, here was this second chance. And who knows how long it might still be open. From what I heard about Dahrians, I thought that even being an ocean away, you would help me get to Arden. You will, won't you?"

Rennish said nothing, then nodded slightly. "Why did Peter come?"

"The truth? I was in turmoil. I didn't know what to do. He wanted to help. I was scared. I told him everything. And I didn't stop him when he insisted on coming. I should have since he's not feeling well. Thing is, in a way, we're sort of the only family each other has. Anyway, you see, I'm not so brave. Can you help me get to Arden?"

"It can be done." Rennish spoke carefully. "But we'll need time to make arrangements. And, in the meantime, you can stay here. And live as we do."

"Of course. And I can start learning Dahrian ways."

"We'll move you to other rooms today."

"What about Peter?"

"He needs to stay where he is for a little longer. It's important that he gets completely recovered. Harnell will come and get you."

The young woman, Harnell, came shortly after Rennish left. Like Fanik, she was not overly talkative. Though cool rather than gruff. Late teens, early 20's, Connie thought, delicate and slim, carried herself like an aloof prima ballerina.

Connie followed her awkwardly out of the Square's cloister and down wide cascading stairs set in the side of the ridge to the large, octagonal building below.

They entered through a long hallway with storage cupboards on either side ending in a spacious octagonal room in the center, covered in skylights. The open space contained a cooking and dining area, comfortable modular seating arranged in a loose circle, and what looked to Connie like a crafts area with worktables, tall shelves filled with storage baskets. It almost had the feel of a kindergarten room, but for grown-ups.

Fanik stood stirring a pot of something over a heating element and gave them a brief, grumpy nod.

In addition to the entrance door, seven more doors were spaced at equal intervals around the octagonal interior room. Most were standing ajar. Harnell led Connie to one of them.

"This is where you'll stay." She pushed the door wider. It opened into a spacious pie-shaped room. It was divided in half by empty shelving jutting out partway from either side, leaving an opening between.

In the front half were modular pieces of furniture like those in the center room. In the back, Connie could see a bed, somewhat more commodious than the one she'd had at the Squares. A small lavatory was tucked into one side. At the end, a large window looked out over an expansive vista of the lush countryside with an outlook down the river valley away from the village.

Connie turned to Harnell, "Does everyone live like this?"

"No, why would they?"

"How do you mean?"

"What do you mean?"

"This view. It's so beautiful. To wake up to this everyday."

Harnell said, "Of course, everyone lives someplace beautiful, but they're not all like this. Most are better. Look outside."

Connie turned to the window. A wide road ran along the river on the opposite side. A few one and two-story structures were strewn along the road partially obscured by trees and spring greenery. As Connie looked closely, she saw a sizable treehouse perched in a large tree and then another.

"Some people live in the trees?"

"Mostly teenagers. I did."

A driverless, boxy vehicle with large windows, built to carry maybe a dozen passengers moved slowly along the riverside road.

"I thought Dahria didn't have cars?"

"Oh that? The country wheels. It just goes back and forth to town. Not like Earthside where everyone has to have a big car. And everything is paved over, and you still can't move around."

Connie laughed, "More or less. You've been Earthside?"

Harnell paused a moment before answering and seemed to choose her words carefully. "I've learned about Earthside. I was training to go. It's why I can speak travel English."

"But you're not going?"

"Later we'll talk. You'll want to set up your room. Take what you want from the storage in the hallway where we came in. Whatever you need to make yourself comfortable."

"Oh, I don't need much. I doubt I'll be here for long." Connie tried to read Harnell's expression. "Or do you think?"

"I know the trackers are looking at what to do you with you."

"The trackers?"

Harnell cracked a smile, "Fanik warned me you don't know much about us. How do I explain? The trackers keep the wheels from falling off - I believe that's an expression of yours. Most Dahrian communities have trackers of some sort. Some don't. They make sure we raise enough food, have things to trade, that our homes, water, roads, sewers – all that, gets taken care of. And they track us. As we age, what is expected of us changes."

"Scrutiny and control throughout your life?"

"I guess it might sound like that, but it's not. Mostly people know what to do and carry on. And a lot of the unpleasant tasks don't come around that often. And it's usually with people your age - like resurfacing the road." She pointed at the roadway outside the window. "You do more when you're younger. If you stay for a while, you'll understand better."

"So. I'll get orders from these trackers who'll tell me what I have to do?" This sounded like boot camp to Connie.

Harnell bristled, "I don't think you understand. Trackers work very hard. They make sure that every child gets to explore whatever they want to do when they grow up. They make arrangements for us to move around, visit any domain, spend time with the most accomplished people who do what interests us. And, they organize all of Crustic's gatherings – the markets, festivals. We have high regard for our trackers."

"I'm sorry, Harnell. I didn't mean to upset you. I understand how ignorant I must sound to you. Don't worry, I'll do whatever the trackers ask of me."

Harnell left. Connie lay on the bed, looking out the window, and fell asleep. It was dark out when she woke, and she was ravenous. The center room was empty. Prowling around the kitchen, she found bread, tomatoes, and some sort of cheese to make a simple sandwich.

After eating, she decided to take a walk outside to clear her head and look for Peter, only to discover that the outer door was locked. So were all the doors leading to the other individual living areas, except hers.

She was locked in.