When they tired of walking, Betwixt flew, when he tired of flying, they walked, and when exhaustion overwhelmed them all, they collapsed on the forest floor, slept awhile, awoke, and started again. Betwixt gorged himself on sweet, wet grass and Saturday remembered enough of her skill to bring down a small rabbit with her dagger, but they were still filthy and half starved when they reached their destination. They found the road to the abbey from the air. Upon it rode a wide, flat wagon with a single driver who appeared intent on the same destination. Betwixt landed before the great walled entrance to the abbey just as the wagon arrived. The climbing roses that covered the bricks reminded Saturday of the roses surrounding the Woodcutter house. To the left of the grand archway, crimson petals bloomed like bloodstains. The roses to the right of the archway bore petals of the purest white. The large mahogany doors of the abbey opened before the party was halfway through the courtyard. A slip of a woman with a mop of red-gold curls burst out onto the stone porch and flew down one side of the split stair, while another woman in stately burgundy robes gracefully descended the other.
