They left the villa shortly after dinner.
The path south led them through the lower residential district, the ambient noise of the student body fading as the stone buildings thinned out. They walked past the edge of the manicured Zenith infrastructure. The pristine cooling arrays and perfectly smooth institutional stone gave way to a rugged, weathered dirt trail skirting the island's western rim. The worn earth beneath their boots suggested that people used to walk this route a very long time ago. Tonight, however, the path was entirely theirs.
The ocean wind blew in hard from the open side of the island, carrying the bitter, salty chill of deep water. Ashe walked beside him with her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her stride relaxed and unhurried.
