They turned to the right, following a wide grassy swath that parted the forest as they moved ahead. Alannah groaned aloud as she realized that this was the road she'd never found on the day of her mishap with the bicycle.
"Forget something?" Pierre asked her.
"No," she said in a pained voice. "It's just that I was looking for this darned road a while back, and here it is! I should have been looking for wheel ruts."
"Wheel ruts don't always mean a road Alannah," he told her. "Some of the roads just don't get enough use, while some of the ones that have more hills tend to not fair so well with the weather, they get flattened out by erosion. You can't rely on what you see with your eyes in this place, they could after all deceive you."
"I guess that makes sense."
The grassy road curved its descent to the left down a hillside, then dead-ended at another that crossed their path. Pierre turned the wagon sharply right and up a steep hill that curved away to the left, and they were soon deep in the forest, where in the air was moist and cool. As they rode further into the forest the air began to warm and get drier, the grade of the hill began to descend again, it appeared to be less steep this time. To their left Alannah could see the start of a well-used path, and Pierre turned onto this path and continued up the road. Alannah was paying attention to the scenery and when she began to look around she realized that she was quite lost. Eventually Pierre took one last turn and said, "This is my driveway, confusing getting here, but peaceful and serene. And there, up there on that slope which overlooks the road is my house."
Alannah was greeted by at least a dozen children, all ranging in age from a two to a one that appeared to be eleven-years old. There in the middle of the children stood a pretty young lady, roughly Alannah age, holding onto a newborn wrapped in a light blanket. To the other side of the driveway waited several wagons and the children's parents, ready to depart for Port Lira.
"Hello, I'm Anya," the girl greeted Alannah as Pierre's wife and son climbed into the wagon with a curt, grateful nod from his wife. "My husband, Santiago, calls me Anyas."
Alannah laughed in response as the two girls stood side by side watched the wagons depart, Alannah wished that she was going along. "Some other time," Alannah said more to herself than to Anya. "You certainly don't look like you belong here." Alannah said to Anya.