That smile of hers lingered — faint, unreadable now — before she turned away for a moment, picking up a small piece of the glass that had broken off in the sand and turning it over between her hands. As if she could discern what had happened here by touch.

"It's strange," she said, after a few moments' silence. "How no one seems to know what happened."

She'd done her fair share of research in the library before the pilgrimage had started, and what she'd been able to glean from the history books had been very, very sparse on that subject.