The Aeronaut's Windlass (The Cinder Spires, #1)

by Jim Butcher

Gwen arched an eyebrow at her cousin and turned back to Brother Vincent. “Wouldn’t it be faster to walk in straight lines rather than wandering back and forth like this? This way does not seem sensible.” The monk’s smile widened. “Did anyone forbid you to do so?” “Well, no,” Gwen said. “Why aren’t you walking the way you believe to be sensible, then?” Gwen blinked. “Well . . . it was obviously the way everyone walks here, I suppose.” “Did you wish to avoid offending our sensibilities?” “No. Not exactly,” Gwen said. “It just . . . it seemed the proper thing to do.” Brother Vincent nodded. “Why?” “Because . . . well, look at it. The stones are all worn down where everyone has walked.” “Do you feel you should walk the same path because so many have walked it before you came, miss?” Gwen glanced at Benedict, but her cousin only looked back at her in silence, apparently interested in her answer. “No, of course not. Except yes, in a way. I hadn’t really given it any thought.” “Few do.” Brother Vincent bowed his head and turned to continue leading them down the hallway, and Gwen had the sudden impression, from his body language, that he was a teacher who had just concluded a lesson.