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It was quite a large boat that she and Kanis rowed out from General Holindo where he stood at the prow of the Red Falcon. The man soon became a small figure as both vessels were swallowed by shadow cast from Ilesinya and its mass of bedrock.
Nearby, the roar of the strange waterfall had grown strong enough that any conversation had to be at a near-shout.
Yet for now, it seemed there was little to say; plans had been made, and all that remained was to follow the glimpses of Luik as he swam for a hidden passage within the waterfall. In truth, it was no secret to the Sea-Folk, since once the city had been raised, Chelona had continued to use them to carry bones up into Ilesinya upon what Luik described as a magical platform.
Flir stared across the water toward Luik. Had Bel also survived? She had to remember to ask him.
But the platform was useful indeed, considering how many people were along for the infiltration – that and all the acor Danillo and Argeon had produced. A surprising amount for such a short time, but then, the Greatmask was probably just as Godlike as Chelona, even if he appeared less so due to his outwardly more reasonable nature.
“Did Luik mention what we’d be likely to find up there?” Kanis called.
Danillo nodded from where he sat at the tiller, beside Pathfinder Ain. “Some things, yes. Beyond the walls of the ancient city all roads feed in toward the palace. There are domes shaped almost as flowers and the streets are wide, empty at first.”
“At first?”
“Toward the end of the Sea-Folk’s enslavement, Chelona had woken or perhaps recreated enough of the original inhabitants of the city to assist with the work. Luik met several.”
“If that thing works, My Lord,” Aren said, his eyes distrustful as he stared at the water. “It could still be a trap, the fact that we haven’t been attacked yet.”
Flir found herself in agreement, despite not being entirely convinced that Aren should be brought along. She still could not read him the way she could now read others... his determination did shine through, however. And more, as dilar, he would have a better-than-average chance of survival.
It was Pevin she worried about.
But the man had refused to stay behind in the city with Holindo, Giovan, Fi and Lavinia’s family. They were the final defence of the city. “My place is by your side, dilar,” he had said.
“Doubtless Chelona seeks Argeon,” the Lord Protector told Aren. “She will at least grant us easy access, I believe.”
“And where will we be when we rise, exactly?” Nia asked. Beside her sat the quiet man with an eye-patch, Gedarow, his role unclear to Flir for the moment.
But while Gedarow seemed to be little more than his worship of Nia, Nia herself was more difficult to read; like nearly everyone aboard, her conviction burned. She wanted to take the fight to Chelona, but she was also troubled. Her memory was not complete and that caused... confusion and doubt. Doubt about her own abilities?
Danillo was answering her question. “Luik also described a giant basement with a steel walkway ringing a large opening, though he did not know its purpose. We will be taken to a nearby landing, which is where I want to store the acor.”
“Storerooms for the palace?”
“I believe so. Once we are inside, Argeon will be able to tell us more.”
And then the Lord Protector had to stop, as the crashing of the waterfall overpowered any attempt at conversation. Cold spray soon had everyone near-drenched, but Luik rose from the choppy water and signalled for Flir and Kanis to circle.
Together, they manoeuvred the longboat around to a comparatively calm section, where the fall spread like a curtain and sheltered what seemed to be an ornate stone raft.
Only it was more secure than an average raft, since the edges bore a small guard rail, no higher than her calf, of carven stone, shaped like small trees spreading supportive branches.
“Let’s unload,” Lord Danillo said when the longboat reached the platform.
Flir pulled her oars in but Kanis kept rowing to turn their boat, and it swung swiftly, helped along by a push from below.
Luik surfaced; expression sombre. “Hope you’re all ready – she’ll be waiting for something.”
“We are,” Danillo said with a nod, setting an acor cask upon the platform. Flir followed, then tied the longboat to the rail, careful not to snap the rope when she tightened it. She glanced to Kanis as she did so; he was frowning at the piles of explosive material.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“There’s a lot of this and eight of us.” He looked to Luik. “Can the platform manage the combined weight?”
Luik gave it a slap. “We loaded a lot more from below.”
“I almost wish you hadn’t said that.”
“Having second thoughts?”
Kanis nodded. “With every stroke of the oar I remember doubting this plan of ours – I wanted the Greatmask to fly us all here.”
“Argeon is still working on such a contingency,” the Lord Protector replied. “But at present, he has not been able to locate the necessary Ancestor for me to ensure such a thing happens safely.”
“Did anyone understand what he just said?” Kanis asked, glancing around.
“I understood enough,” Flir said. “So quit complaining, will you?”
He grinned as he bent to lift another case, which he tossed to Aren upon the platform. “You always did try to take the fun out of life, Flir – how else can I mask my deep concerns?”
Luik turned to Flir then. “I’m going to check on everyone but I’ll need your promise before you do.”
“Promise you what?”
“No heroics.”
She frowned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you’re not the strongest one in this fight and I reckon that’ll piss you off. You act before you think when you’re angry.”
Her frown became a glare.
“Exactly,” he said, then pushed himself back from the platform.
Kanis chuckled.
Flir ignored him, instead giving Luik a nod and a rueful smile – he was right, but this time would be different. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake and more, she had Evakeda’s Eye, which had to amount to something, even amongst Greatmasks and Gods.