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He licked his finger and turned the pages until he found the hastily drawn map and journal entry. Clarke moved to his side of the butcher block to read.
J.C. DATED: 471 ANF
A does more at the Order. It frees me to focus on the still-missing artifact, but I am beginning to doubt its existence or my ability to find it. The Well whispers some days yet screams on others. Both are as indecipherable as the others. Both are like searching through cloudy water and expecting clarity.
I know what to do, yet I cannot stop searching for my North Star between the gaps of time. If I had the guidance, my faith would remain unwavering. I come here to remember, but the gaps change the shape of memory just as they shape our minds. She would not recognize me even if I found her, for I have changed.
Leaf turned the page.
“Hey!” Clarke snapped. “I was reading that.”
“He laments like a love-sick fool for another few paragraphs. You’ll be bored shitless. Here is what you might want to read.”
Her irritation simmered against his skin, but she read the journal.
… This place holds significance, and I keep returning. Perhaps these crumbling faces will be the last I see one day.
Leaf looked at Clarke. “So?”
“So what?” she tossed back.
“Do you think that’s his final place of rest?” Obviously.
“I thought he went into the lake and never came out.”
“If Aleksandra is to be believed.”
“But she can’t lie… right?”
He exhaled. “Correct.”
But she could mince words, which worried Leaf the most. The Prime could have used misleading words all those years ago, and now they were twisted into a bastardized version of the truth. Until he found definitive proof that Crimson was dead or the whole prophecy, Leaf wasn’t taking anything as the Well-blessed truth.
“I only know what I’ve been told and learned at the academy,” Clarke said.
Leaf’s gaze dropped to the map. He supposed he would have to search the ruins himself. “Are you sure it’s there?”
“Look, I’m never sure. As I said, a vision of this conversation in the kitchen triggered the memory of another vision.”
“And what was in that vision exactly? No lies.”
“I saw you riding a horse in the Meandering Woods. And I saw Mount Rushmore covered in vines and water over mossy rocks. I saw an epiphany on your face. Whether it’s what you’re looking for is another question. But it’s a start.”
“The Meandering Woods, you’re sure? Not the Whispering Woods?”
“I don’t think so. I remember the trees were greener, less snow.”
He marked the spot and rolled the map just as Rush strode in naked, yellow wolf-eyes blazing. His silver hair was messy, and his beard was uncut. Since Leaf didn’t think the shifters were transforming much these days, Rush’s lack of appropriate attire was likely from waking to find his mate missing. His hard eyes landed on Clarke, dropped to take in her nightgown, then he glared at Leaf.
“Step away from my mate,” he growled.
“Crimson save me,” Leaf mumbled under his breath.
Unbothered, Clarke strolled to Rush’s side of the kitchen and tucked herself under his muscular arm. Her gaze softened on Leaf. “I can’t convince you one last time to put this quest aside and hunt for your mate instead?”
“If she’s so important, why don’t you hunt her down? You’ve done it for others.”
Darkness flittered over her expression. “With them, I knew exactly when and where the old-worlders would wake. But with Silver, Violet, and Peaches, I learned too late. With Melody and Trix, they were locked behind the walls of Crystal City. With the woman I believe is your mate… I have no idea anymore. I thought she would wake years ago, but we’ve heard not a peep about an old-worlder thawing or waking in this time.” She cuddled Rush with melancholy. “I just hope she’s not dead.”
