When the man first begins walking down the road toward me, my first thought is that perhaps I am nearer the town than I thought. A mere trick of perspective. But after several of his long strides (hard to tell how long, at first, when he's coming straight for you) I realize that it is simply how tall he is. A big one, and no mistake.

Still, he seems genial enough as I take his measure. Weatherbeaten, but hale. Calm, watchful. I cannot place his accent, not quite. This puzzles me. I consider the badge for a moment, file it away in the back of my mind under 'communal institutions and law.'

"Many thanks for your kind welcome, Deputy Hollow," I say, touching my voice with warmth, taking his hand firmly. "My name is Samuel." Indicating my garb with my free hand, I add, "Brother Samuel, if you prefer, though I fear I left my brothers across the sea."

No sooner have I finished speaking and released his hand than Memory's sleek head darts for the well-worn hat like a low-hanging fruit.