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At his instruction, Riella dove from a sandstone bank through turquoise freshwater, which tunneled under a natural wall. She emerged on the other side to a temple-like interior. The floor was red sand and the smooth golden sandstone arced high to form the cave. Sunlight filtered through natural circular holes in the walls.
A small man with leathery skin sat crosslegged on the sandy floor. He was very thin and wore a loose white cotton outfit, his bare feet black on the bottom. Intricate patterns were traced into the sand in front of him.
Seeming to hear them arrive, he opened his eyes as they approached.
“Ah—” he said, smiling up at Jarin. “My boy, you are here.”
“Hello, Ferrante. But of course, you knew I was coming.”
“Sit, sit, please,” he replied.
Only when Riella sat did she notice that his eyes were milky white and blind.
He bowed his head. “Welcome. I am Ferrante.”
“I’m Riella.”
“I have been expecting to meet you,” he said, resting his hands in his lap. “The dark moon whispered your imminent arrival, nights ago. I am glad you found your way here.”
“I didn’t find my way,” said Riella uncertainly. “Jarin brought me.”
The old man continued to smile serenely.
“We found a map,” said Jarin. “Artus was sure he’d find the Amulet of Delphine with it. Can you read it? It’s in Shirranis.”
“Shirranis? Then, I will need to view it on another plane. Lay it on the sand.”
Jarin nudged Riella. She withdrew the parchment and put it down, taking care to avoid the patterns the Seer had drawn. Ferrante stared straight ahead without blinking.
When he spoke again, he traced his fingertip through the sand. “This lunar cycle heralds enormous shifts, in this realm and others. You are part of that shift. Both of you. The end of the cycle will mean the end of your fate.”
Riella’s heart thudded. What in the seven seas did that mean?
The Seer continued. “The key to victory lies in sacrifice. The siren-who-walks is written in this parchment. You are meant to be here. You are meant to walk. Never doubt that, or your power.”
The old man stopped moving his finger in the sand. “Do you want to know more?”
“Yes,” said Riella. “Of course.”
But he simply sat there, staring straight ahead as if in a trance. Riella raised her brows at Jarin. The pirate held up his hand for her to wait.
Pools of sunshine moved across the sandy floor as the sun traversed the sky.
While they waited, Jarin picked up handfuls of sand and let them fall into little mounds, grain by grain, like sand through an hourglass. Eventually, a beam of sunlight touched the parchment. The sun progressed until the entire surface of the parchment was illuminated.
Riella looked up into Ferrante’s eyes. At once, the rest of the cave fell away, leaving only his two white irises. Then, she experienced the strangest sensation, as if being pulled into the ocean by a strong current.
Ferrante’s eyes now looked healthy and blue, with black pupils, and the cave was replaced with endless cobalt depths. She and the Seer were somehow in the ocean, or a realm very much like it. Dark blue streaks, like liquid smoke, swirled around her and the old man. Riella longed to tear her gaze from his eyes to investigate her surroundings, but found herself unable.
Ferrante’s voice appeared in her head, although his mouth did not move. He was Sending.
“Only a siren’s Voice may open the chest where the Amulet of Delphine lies. The amulet will be found, and an adversary will be defeated. But a dusk must follow every dawn. A loss for every gift. On the next full moon, the siren-who-walks will be reunited with her Voice, only to?—”
Abruptly, he withdrew from her head, like water sucked out to sea during low tide. The dark blue streaks also receded, until they faded to nothing. Ferrante’s eyes returned to white, and the sunny, sandy cave materialized around her.
Riella blinked, trying to reorient herself.
Ferrante leaned forward to pick up the parchment. The mystical symbols were gone, replaced by the lines and markings of a proper map.
