2.3

May 3

Marketa speaks little. Last night, after she passed the test, she went to bed without dinner (thereby missing the potatoes, which I must document were soft and steaming), and this morning she awoke before the sun. I do not know how to talk to her when she’s like this.

Today the women gave her three scraps of vellum, on which was marked an island’s topography. They said the answer would come together and reveal the place where the brightest sunlight falls.