a dark shaped loomed up in front of him. Right away, he sensed that it was Dak, but he still blurted a startled gasp and stumbled back.
“I thought you were farther away,” Yanko said, embarrassed by his reaction.
“I heard you fall.”
“It wasn’t so much a fall as a rapid descent,” Yanko said, not wanting Dak to think he had been so inept as to stumble into the hole after him.
“In Turgonia, we call that a fall.”
Yanko shrugged. “I thought you might need help getting out.”
Dak grunted and turned back the way he had been heading. Clearly, he was overwhelmed by Yanko’s concern.
They headed up the ravine in the opposite direction from which Lakeo had gone. Yanko was tempted to share that Kei had shown him a better way, but reminded himself that he wanted Lakeo to arrive first, even if it meant extra trekking in his abused sandals.
He did not intentionally walk slowly—he wasn’t sure why it mattered, but he had a hard time making himself appear more inept than usual in front of Dak—but he also did not point out the spots where the ravine walls were less steep and they might have climbed out. The foliage made it hard to see those walls, or even the creek meandering past beside their feet, but his senses could detect the rough contours of the terrain around them. He created a blue mage light to send ahead of Dak, but he did not make it overly bright.
Now and then, Dak paused, looking upward and listening.
“Where did you send Lakeo?” he asked after one such stop.
You send? Yanko wasn’t sure if that implied that Dak knew they had been up there whispering about something. Why hadn’t he asked, where did Lakeo go?
“She’s trying to find a way around the ravine,” Yanko said.
Dak continued on without questioning him. Using his sword, he hacked at foliage choking the way. He hadn’t done that up above, but maybe he wasn’t worried about anyone tracking them through this. Who else would be foolish enough to fall—or rapidly descend—to the bottom of a ravine?
“Looks like we can climb up here.” Dak pointed his sword up a slope that wasn’t as steep as most of them. Numerous roots and branches offered handholds.
With some alarm, Yanko realized that by pushing inland, they should now be in a straight line with the waterfall. He had sent Lakeo on a path that would be easier to navigate, but it was also more roundabout. Dak wiped off his sword, sheathed it, and reached for the first handhold.
“Dak?” Yanko asked, making him pause. “Are you worried about what we’ll do if Minark doesn’t come back?”
“No.” Dak started climbing. Did he know Yanko was trying to delay him, or was he just being his usual, terse Turgonian self?
“Because you think Arayevo will talk him into returning? Or because you think his greed for treasure will prompt him to check and see if we found it?”
Dak was already disappearing up the slope, passing out of the influence of the mage light. Yanko sighed and started climbing too.
“The Kyattese are out here too,” Dak said, his voice drifting down from above, along with dirt that smacked Yanko on the top of his head.
“Your backup plan is to get a ride home with them? Are you sure they would have you?” Even as Yanko asked the questions, he wondered if that truly was Dak’s backup plan. What if sailing home with the Kyattese was his primary plan? He hadn’t seemed surprised by the underwater boat’s appearance. Maybe he had instructed the Kyattese to follow the Falcon’s Flight.
“Why wouldn’t they have me?” Dak asked.
“Uhm, you’re tall and big. Do you even fit in an underwater boat?”
Dak was too far above him for Yanko to see the look he probably shot down, but he could imagine it.
“Do they not care that you’re Turgonian and from a warrior culture?” Yanko asked, attempting a more serious question. “They seem very... Well, they claim to be pacifists, don’t they?”
“They prefer peace. They’ll fight if you try to take over their islands.” More dirt trickled down. “I see the top.”
Yanko climbed the rest of the way without asking further questions. He would assume that Dak had a way to get home if he found the lodestone. Yanko wished he could assume he did.
By the time he reached the top, sweat trickled down Yanko’s spine. He flopped onto a boulder.
“Can we rest for a second?” he asked.
Dak had already started into the trees, but