Catrin swayed as the past began to make sense. Benjin had once said that the Vestrana's calculations had been wrong, and now she knew why. Things could have been much different had they known the truth.
"I know not what Belegra will find, if anything. He goes in search of legends and myths, believing he will find Enoch and Ain Giest still alive… or maybe even dragons."
"Dragons?"
"Indeed, m'lady, dragons," Samda replied, and he drew a deep breath. "Legends say they were a source of incredible power. Unfortunately, there are very few details in the texts. It seems dragon lore was such common knowledge in those times that it was either not written down or not preserved. We've found vague references but nothing to indicate exactly what kind of power they possessed or how it came to be harnessed by men. The only thing I can say for certain is that, at one point in our history, man and dragon worked together."
Catrin's imagination conjured skies filled with mighty wizards on the backs of dragons. It was both thrilling and terrifying.
"Belegra also seeks knowledge, which is power in itself. In particular, I believe he searches for the locations of the other Statues of Terhilian."
"What?" Catrin asked, agape. "How many statues are there?"
"I cannot be sure, but I believe four-possibly five-were buried before they exploded. Of those, two have been found. That would leave the possibility of three unaccounted for."
Three statues-they could be buried just about anywhere, and they could explode at any time, even if left underground. There seemed no way to evade the impending disaster. Frustrated, Catrin changed the subject. "What about the Zjhon armies? Where are they now?"
"I can't say for certain. The siege on Ohmahold has most likely been called off since you are obviously no longer there, and I assume Belegra will join his forces with those of General Dempsy. With the ships that returned from the Godfist, they could sail with a sizable army."
"Still, there would be a considerable force left behind, and they may be coming to retake Adderhold," Benjin added.
"Indeed, and we should not be here when they arrive, but where will we go?" Samda asked, and silence hung in the air.
Catrin was torn. Part of her wanted to go south to meet Chase, as they had planned, but another part wanted to return to Ravenhold, and yet another part wanted to return to Ohmahold. In the back of her mind, though, when she put aside her responsibilities, she wanted most to return to the Godfist. Any road she chose would be perilous; every choice would leave her vulnerable in some way. "South," she said, her mind made up; she would not abandon Chase.
"With an army possibly coming from the north, I'd say that's a wise choice," Benjin said. "With any luck, your cousin will already have transport to Ohmahold arranged."
Samda raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Millie, though, stood in the corner with her hands on her hips. "You would leave your grandmother to suffer the wrath of the Kytes alone?"
"I can only be in one place at a time. I promised Chase I would meet him. I made no such promise to my grandmother. She'll have to wait for now, but I'll return to Ravenhold when I can," Catrin replied, and Millie pursed her lips.
Morif chuckled.
"What are you laughing at?" Millie asked.
"The girl's got fire. You must grant her that," he replied, smiling. "I like a girl with fire."
Millie just crossed her arms and cast angry glances around the room.
"The more immediate problem is how to get out of Adderhold," Benjin said. "I'd rather not be seen if possible."
"There is a way, but we should leave soon," Samda said.
"Do you feel strong enough to travel, li'l miss?"
"I'm ready," she lied.
Through darkened halls, Samda led them, only the light of his lamp guiding the way. Catrin leaned on her staff, her fingers resting in the impressions left by her grip during the destruction of the statue-a silent reminder. Though the staff had been dull and ashen when Benjin returned it to her, its sheen was beginning to return, and the torchlight danced across its surface.
After a meandering trek through the underbelly of Adderhold, Samda stopped at a corner that looked no different from the rest, ran his hands along the wall, and pushed open a hidden door. Inside, a narrow flight of rough-hewn stairs descended into the darkness. A cool breeze carried the smell of the sea, and around a bend in the stair, yellowish moonlight danced across dark water. A small landing jutted into the water, and moored there was a sailing vessel large enough to carry roughly a dozen people.
"Very few know this place exists. I doubt anyone is watching the outlet, but we must be as quiet as possible."
They boarded the boat, retrieved the lines, and using the four rows of oars, paddled toward the moonlight. The opening in the cavern wall was tall and slender. Beyond it stood a ring of towering stones, seemingly barring their path, but as they approached, a narrow channel became visible between two rows of massive stones. There was little room for mistakes, and despite their efforts, they grazed the rocks twice before gaining open water.
A haze blurred the stars and gave the moon a brownish tint, as if the skies were tainted. Still, the light of distant comets bolstered Catrin's strength; energy soaked into her bones and warmed her against the chill wind that descended from the west. The sails snapped taut as they were raised, and with Benjin's help, Samda guided the ship into deep water, far from either shore.
"It's dangerous for us to go out this far in such a small craft, but I think we should get south of Waxenboro, where the lands are much less populated, before we go near shore. We can't go too far, though. South of Mahabrel the Inland Sea becomes much more dangerous and unpredictable. I wouldn't advocate crossing in this boat," Samda said. As if to prove his point, the growing waves tossed them about, nearly capsizing the small craft.
Weakness still caused Catrin to tremble, but she felt much better breathing the salty air. Her body might never be able to do things it had once done, but she was determined to try. Barabas had said her work was not yet done, and she tried to prepare herself for whatever might come next.
After taking a deep breath, Catrin reflexively raised her hand to her hair. She could not feel where the translucent whiteness ended and the remaining color began, but she knew it was there-a crutch. Using her knife, she hacked away the color, shearing the ties to her childhood and embracing the future. No longer could she afford to be a frightened little girl, holding on to relics of the past for the comfort they brought. She needed to face her future with confidence and purpose. As an offering to the sea, she cast her hair into the waves, and with it went one of the shadows that had been haunting her soul. She felt freed and renewed, but these feelings were accompanied by a great weariness. Knowing she needed sleep in order to heal, Catrin calmed her mind and meditated herself to sleep.
Moving through the darkness, Chase cursed every branch that snapped beneath his boots. Fasha had given him no reason to believe the people here would be hostile, but she hadn't given him any indication that they would be friendly either. All he knew was approximately where to find this woman named Madra and that he could trust her. Fasha had given him directions and even drawn him a map, but he feared he was hopelessly lost, and the thought of finding someone to ask made him feel ill. These people had more reason to fear him than to trust him, and he decided he would keep searching, even if he had to retrace his steps back to the shoreline and begin his journey again.