Chapter 18
Leon
In all my time fighting in Trova’s civil war, I never made it this far east. Palquir’s forces focused on the capital, north of here, and our army focused on the west. Now, as we watch the hills rise and fall away into sweeping valleys, I’m glad the destruction of war didn’t reach this place. It’s truly beautiful.
“Do you think we’re nearly there?” Ana asks, coming up beside me on the deck of Ravesley’s river boat.
We’ve been mostly staying below as the smugglers carried us south to avoid being spotted by any of our enemies.
But that’s much less likely on the waterways than on the road, and now that we’re in the more remote reaches of Trova, we’re lucky if we pass a couple of people a day.
It seemed worth the risk to get some fresh air here and there.
“We should be,” I reply across the mooring. “I’ll go check with the captain in a moment.”
“You’re thinking about them, aren’t you,” she says—a statement rather than a question. I glance at her.
“Yes. I feel strangely connected to them here. Particularly my father. He came here with a mission he gave his life for. It feels…right, somehow, that I should visit it with an important task too.”
“He’d be proud of you,” she says, laying a hand on my arm. The simple statement hits me harder than I expected. I have to look out across the water to steady myself. Ana slips her hand into mine, helping me.
“I hope so,” I reply honestly.
I spent many years thinking of my father as never quite strong enough to do what was necessary—to stand up to Respen.
I felt frustrated with him more times than I could count and crafted my own persona as a warrior—as someone who would fight any problem head-on—in direct contrast to him.
It’s only now that I see how wise he was, how careful and deliberate in his defiance.
He knew how dangerous Respen was, and he was playing the only game he could.
I climb up toward the wheelhouse, where Ravesley stands with one of his crew, Moss.
“What’s our progress?” I ask.
Ravesley grunts, considering my question.
The smugglers have transported us before when we needed to get somewhere quickly, but things are different this time.
When we first boarded the boat, Ravesley told us the smugglers have been forced to abandon a lot of their old business thanks to the Temple’s new interest in Hallowbane.
We had to pay them three times the usual price to convince them to take on the risk of carrying us south.
Even now, I don’t miss the wary look passing between the captain and Moss. They’re eager to be done with this job, or at least get us off the boat until we need carrying north again.
“A few more hours should do it,” Ravesley answers. “You best start preparing what you need.”
By the time we’re disembarking from the riverboat, I’m glad to be away. The nervousness of the crew was starting to grate on me, and the quiet, empty hills of Rhasborne are a welcome change. We travel as a much smaller group than the one that left Filusia.
Wadestaff somehow convinced Damia to take him to Godom, and Alastor has gone east to Elmere with Harman.
Meanwhile, Mal offered to escort Lafia back to the Hand’s base at Tread rather than come further south with us.
The ex-cleric is smart as a whip and helped save my life, but she’s still so young.
I don’t think any of us want to take her on more dangerous missions if we can avoid it.
It leaves three of my soldiers with Ana and me—Stratton, Phaia, and Hyllus—as well as Tira. As we start to follow the riverbank up into the hills, Stratton squints at the green landscape.
“I thought this was supposed to be wine country?”
“It is,” Ana says. “But this close to the Siga’s source, the ground is too damp for vines. Most of the vineyards are in the valleys further downriver.”
“We missed them because we were busy hiding below deck,” Phaia points out to the blond.
“You don’t need to remind me,” Stratton says. “I was crammed into a cabin with Hyllus for days. I’m not likely to forget it. No offense, friend.”
Hyllus just shrugs. “It’s not my fault you didn’t have the good sense to grow as big as me.”
The rare joke from my quiet friend makes the group laugh, wiping away some of the tension we picked up from Ravesley’s crew.
The river narrows as the hills grow steeper, a sure sign we’re getting closer to the source. After a morning hiking, we hear the rushing sound of fast-moving water.
“That’s got to be it,” Ana tells me excitedly. “Siga’s falling tears.”
After scouring dozens of maps, we found a likely spot for the waterfall among some particularly steep hills near the river’s source.
But there was still a possibility we’d get here and find no waterfall at all, or find out we’ve gravely misinterpreted the prophecy, and it has nothing to do with my father or the seal.
Hearing the water at least feels like a hint that we’re on the right path.
As we reach the dip between the hills where the river opens out into a small lake, my confidence only grows. Grassy banks shelter a tall waterfall, the sparkling river cresting over the top of the hills and tumbling down into a misty haze on the far side of the lake.
I close my eyes, imagining my parents here, their feet upon this same soft ground, the same rushing waters echoing in their ears. For a moment, I’m overwhelmed with longing and sadness. But then—
“Leon?” Ana calls to me. As always, she’s my anchor to everything that’s real and present, pulling me out of my thoughts of the past and my yearning for a sense of connection to those who are long dead.
“I’m alright,” I reply.
She nods with understanding, sending a wave of comfort toward me.
“So how are we going to find one little metal disc in all of that?” Tira asks, bending down to splash her fingers in the water.
“We’ll try my magic first,” Ana says. “If the seal’s hidden at the bottom of the lake, there’s a chance I can orbit it to us.”
She kneels down on the grass, laying her palms up and open on her thighs, concentrating.
The buzz of magic fills the air, and I can sense a powerful desire rising in her—a yearning for something out of reach.
She frowns, and the buzzing strengthens, but as we watch the surface of the lake, it stays unbroken.
Ana sighs, the magic and the inner desire fading at the same time. She opens her eyes.
“Nothing,” she says, and her disappointment flares sharply across the mooring.
“I think I need a more specific idea of an object’s location before I can draw it to me.
Plus, I only have a vague idea what it will look like.
I’ve not tried to summon something with so little sense of it before.
If the seal is in the lake, you can’t feel its power.
The water must be dampening it, like we thought. ”
“It seems we’ll have to do this the non-magical way,” says Phaia, going to pull off her boots.
Tira bends to unlace her own shoes, but Hyllus stops her with a hand on her arm.
“Let us. We fae can hold our breath much longer than humans.”
Coming from anyone else, Tira would argue this, feeling underestimated. But Hyllus says it so mildly she just straightens.
“Alright then,” she says. “But it’s a shame we don’t have an aquari who could help us search the water.”
“Hey,” Stratton protests as he pulls off his boots and tunic. “My aquari magic is damn useful. Just not for searching lakes for mysterious artifacts. The gods forgot to offer me that particular skillset when they were handing out powers.”
The conversation throws up a thought in my mind. My mother was an incendi—hardly useful for this task, but my father was a geostri, with the power to move stones. Ana’s right that the water’s helping hide the seal, but I also think he would’ve put his own magic to good use too.
“My father likely would have buried it under stone,” I say aloud to the others. “Or done something else with his geostri magic that would make the seal difficult to access.”
“But also not impossible to find,” Phaia points out. “It seems unlikely Prince Keleus would’ve just buried something as precious as the seal in the lakebed. It would be too easy to lose it.”
“But he could’ve put the artifact inside something, like a cavern, and sealed it up again,” I say.
“There were caves in these hills when we were looking at the map. There could be one here, under the water. Keep your eyes peeled for any irregular rock formations,” I instruct as we finish preparing to enter the water.
“Be careful,” Ana warns.
“Always, my love,” I reply, pulling her in for a quick kiss.
“If that were true you wouldn’t be you,” she points out.
I grin and start to wade out into the lake.
The water is icy even with the balmy weather, but at least it’s clear.
I can see my hand almost perfectly beneath the surface as the water laps at my waist. Further on, there’s a steep drop-off where the lakebed falls away into much deeper water, turning a purplish black as it escapes the sun.
With a nod at my soldiers, we each take a deep breath and dive.
I open my eyes once I’m under the surface, taking in the muffled, blue world.
Sunlight dances in specks above me as Hyllus, Phaia, and Stratton swim past me, kicking hard to propel themselves into the lake’s depths.
They each take a different direction, while I pull myself toward the waterfall.
The churning water acts as my guide, throwing up a cloud of bubbles, hiding whatever shape the lakebed takes beneath it.
The prophecy said the seal was shielded by Siga’s falling tears.
My bet is it was being specific, and that whatever hidey hole my father found is near the waterfall itself.
I angle myself downward until the storm of frothy water is above me.
Then I reach my hands out, feeling along the side of the lake in the gloom.