17—Moon TimeThe routine was almost reassuring: lessons, work, Toumi growling—all of it flowed from one day to the next like a line of ducks swimming up-river. Even the rock-carrying became routine. Occasionally, one or two figures in miko’s robes wandered in through the front gate; just as often, one or more of the women would leave after the morning meal. Yet the little community remained very much the same.
The odd sounds from the great hall were different every day, and always infuriatingly fascinating: sometimes grunts, sometimes shouting, and once what sounded like breaking wood. But we weren’t allowed to look, and so this too became part of the pattern.
One day, when the great hall was unusually silent, we were sorting dried mushrooms by color. Kee Sun was very particular about the
