Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
My feet slam into the ground an instant later, my knuckles white as they grip onto Dane’s forearms, steadying me after the onslaught of magic that dropped us here.
Blinking rapidly, I watch the glow of the dust fade on our clothes, and snap my head up to take in the surroundings. My knees almost buckle as everything catches up to me. We just wasted enough dust for two people, and we aren’t in Dawnlin anymore.
We aren’t in Blackwood, either.
My eyes flit around the alley, climbing the buildings, the packed dirt ground, the bright skies.
This isn’t the same alley we stood in the last time we were in the real world, the last time before I was in Dawnlin.
Dane didn’t bring me home.
I step away from him quickly, anger and panic overwhelming me.
He wasted it. Not just to get here, but for us to get back, too.
He ensured I would go back by bringing me somewhere else, so I wouldn’t change my mind and go back to the castle.
Now, we have no choice but to use even more dust, and if there isn’t an answer on the fountain, we’ve done nothing but draw closer to sealing our fate. All of this would be in vain.
“I can’t believe you did that, Dane! What were you thinking?” I yell, taking another step back and wringing my fingers through my hair.
“Checking the fountain is important, and we needed a fountain.” He gestures to the fountain beside us, and I follow his motion.
It is a duplicate of the one in Blackwood, and my face falls as I take it in. No water flows from the openings, the pool below the same stagnant mess as at home.
Is it because of the dust?
Has the magic of the island dried up, just like the fountain? Will the myth of Dawnlin cease to exist as soon as the dust is gone?
“Let’s just look for clues,” I grind out, and step to the edge of the fountain, turning my back on him.
“You’re mad,” he says flatly.
“What was your first clue, Dane?” I snap, my anger breaking through the box I’m trying to hold it in.
“There’s no reason to be mad,” he says, grabbing my arms and pulling me toward him.
Wrenching my arms from his grasp, I shrug him off, but he steps between me and the aged white stone.
I glare up at him, my jaw aching from clenching it so tightly, trying not to say the venomous thoughts running through my mind.
“It’s important we find an answer, and if this is the best idea we have, we need to try. If it doesn’t work out, we’re stuck either way. Someone had to decide, and the island is my responsibility, so I made it.”
I understand his point, but he believes his way is the only answer.
He doesn’t know about how many Castaways I’m trying to save dust for, in the event we find nothing.
He knows every single one of them, and he doesn’t care about what happens to them, even though he says he’s not trying to trap anyone.
He vilifies them, making the Voyagers turn on people they knew and cared about, leaving them stranded and hunted while he continues to search.
Auralie. Stassia. Jorn. Eirlik. Veck. Fern. Everyone.
He knew them all.
And he isn’t considering them in any of this. He only is considering what he wants done, in the name of protecting Dawnlin.
But he’s not protecting Dawnlin, not after he cheated the magic and wants the cure for himself.
“So let’s find the answers,” I say and step around him, training my gaze on the fountain.
I scan the surface, the carvings dusted with a thick layer of grime from years without flowing water, making them somewhat difficult to see. Dane hovers behind me, looking at the fountain over my shoulder, and the skin on the back of my neck prickles.
Wasting the opportunity that using the dust gave us would be wrong. Despite how much I hate how Dane went about this, I’m going to use it. Dread pools in my stomach as I stare at the stone, thinking about how I am going to tell the Castaways there is even less dust now.
And why.
If there’s a clue here, I need to find it.
Crouching down, I reach into the pool and cup some stagnant water in my hand before dripping it over the surface of the fountain. I run my fingertips over the stone, rubbing the moisture on to try to wash away some of the filth.
Dane picks up on my plan and follows suit, starting in the other direction.
It takes a minute of scrubbing before I can see enough of the carvings to analyze, and once I have enough uncovered, I move on to the next section.
We work silently, annoyance seething from me, until we meet again on the other side.
The fountain is legible now, at least for our purposes. I rinse my hands in the water and take the moment to run my fingertips along the bottom of the pool. The stone is just as smooth as the fountain in Blackwood, so I mentally check off that area to search.
“Any ideas as to what we should look for?” I ask. I can use him for all his knowledge while I can. He’s been the Guardian for twenty years. He knows more about Dawnlin than I do, despite never being able to find the waters.
Please don’t let him figure it out now.
“Lennox,” Dane says, but I ignore him.
“Any sort of symbol or unexplained shape you’ve seen on the island that could have something to do with the dust?”
“Lennox,” he says again.
“Because I don’t recall anything spec—”
“Lennox, will you talk to me, please?”
“What?” I say, irritation slicing through the word as I glare at him.
“I want to find answers, but you’re angry because I made a decision that was supposed to help you. I don’t know why you’re blaming me for doing something because I care about you.”
My blood begins to boil. He doesn’t understand the gravity of what he did, and he’s blaming me for being upset? My mouth falls open, ready to shout my first words, but Edmond’s voice pops into my head, reminding me to focus on my goals and find the path that will get me what I want.
Dane may believe he was doing the right thing, and maybe he was. We’ve still yet to determine if we actually wasted the dust, so we need to get looking. I can’t let him believe there is anything wrong, and getting on his bad side or raising suspicion right now won’t get me any closer to an answer.
I let out a breath. “You’re right,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’m just really trying to find anything that can help us.”
“I forgive you,” he says with a smile, and I do everything I can to keep my fists from clenching.
His face falls slightly, and he takes a half step closer. “You’re really that focused on getting home?”
“I told you I can’t stay,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“I know, I just...” He takes my hands in his and squeezes them. “I guess I just hoped you had considered staying if you don’t find it.”
I shake my head. “I have to go back, whether or not I find it, but I’m not done looking. I’ll be here for a while longer. I just don’t want to lose the chance to go home, for me, or for anyone else, if they find it first.”
“I understand,” he murmurs. He leans forward, closing the gap between us, but I turn toward the fountain, leaning close and examining the carvings.
“Any ideas? Any symbols on the island you noticed?” I say, ignoring the way he shifts uncomfortably after my obvious denial of his kiss.
He clears his throat, his tone dropping lower. “None that I have noticed. Besides the island shifting at any moment, there aren’t really any symbols or carvings I’ve seen. There’s definitely nothing that looks like any of this.” He gestures to the intricacies of the stone.
Walking around it slowly, my eyes scan every carved detail. I pause when I get to the chalice; the exact replica of the mountain falls.
He can’t see it…and this is why he won’t find the waters.
Not a single symbol on the fountain points to the dust, not even a suggestion. No pouch, no Guardian figure, no plateau. There’s nothing showing how to get on or off the island carved into the gate.
We’ve spent hours pouring over the details, and my fears have been realized.
We wasted the dust.
The fountain doesn’t hold any answers about the Guardian, it is only the way to call him. Tears pool in my eyes as I step away, looking around us, and finally remembering that anyone could have seen us at any time.
We’re alone, thank the gods, and the blue sky above is starting to change color, resembling Dawnlin’s pinks and oranges.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Berrendahr,” Dane says, stepping up alongside me.
Sig’s kingdom.
This is the same fountain Sig used to get to Dawnlin twenty years ago. I wonder if it looked the same when she called the Guardian, the one before Dane. I wonder if she knew what she was doing, and didn’t stumble upon it like I did, leaving her home behind at the last moment.
“I remember you saying you never left Blackwood, so I thought you might want to see another kingdom,” he says.
A few months ago, I would have seen this gesture as heartfelt and caring, but that was before. That was before I knew about all the lies and manipulations. That was before I had tried to figure out his motivations. He doesn’t want me to leave, so he ensured I couldn’t change my mind.
I still need to act like it is before.
“That was really thoughtful of you,” I say, the sweet words feeling like ash in my mouth. “Maybe once we find an answer, we could actually visit it together. Maybe after I find the cure.”
His face lights up at my praise. “I would take you anywhere you want,” he says as he reaches out to stroke the side of my face.
I smile up at him, then my lips drop again. “I don’t think the fountain holds any answers.”
“I agree. We would have noticed something.”
I let out a harsh sigh. “We just wasted so much time,” I say, dropping my gaze to the ground.
“It wasn’t a waste, because we aren’t left wondering. Now we know for sure that we didn’t miss something, and can move on to find what we need on the island.”
I nod quietly and take a deep breath.
Wasted. This entire trip was wasted time and wasted dust. The whole point of the plan lasting for two days is to get information on how to replenish it directly from the Guardian, and I’m starting to feel like I’m going to get back to the ship only bearing bittersweet news.
“We should go back,” I whisper.
“Do you want to see the city before we do?” he asks, gesturing over his shoulder. “We could find a tavern, get some food. Just like before.” Hope gleams in his eyes, but I shake my head.
“No, I want to go back. I’m not done looking.”
He nods and glances around the space, just as he did when we left Blackwood a lifetime ago, and it hits me like a blow to the chest.
He’s looking to see if anyone is around, making sure no one sneaks in.
Just like he did.
I clench my teeth, trying to keep my face neutral, as he steps in front of me.
He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into him before reaching into the pouch.
My breaths shorten and I try not to flinch as his hand descends toward the glowing gold.
How much dust is he going to use? Could he use less and we still make it?
“Use as little as possible,” I rush out before he lifts his hand.
“I will. I did before too,” he says. I’m sure it was meant to be reassuring, but it only acts as a reminder that I am running out of time.
I need answers.