CHAPTER TEN
The Hunt Begins
Dawn came too early.
Orion stood at the harbor starting line with two dozen other teams, trying to shake off the fog of insufficient sleep. The festival had continued well into the night, and even in their cliff-side home, the distant music had made rest difficult.
Nera, predictably, showed no signs of fatigue.
"This is so exciting!" She was pixie-sized, zipping between teams and examining their competition. "Look at that team—they all match! They have uniforms! Should we have uniforms? I feel like we should have uniforms!"
"We don't need uniforms."
"But we'd look so official!"
"We don't need to look official."
"You're no fun in the mornings."
"I'm no fun at any time. You knew this when you married me."
"I did," she agreed cheerfully. "I just hoped you'd improve."
Vex and Denna were positioned a few yards away, engaged in what appeared to be a heated debate about strategy. Vex's hands moved in expansive gestures while Denna stood with her arms crossed, expression skeptical.
"—and then we cut through the Undertow and come out ahead of everyone!" Vex was saying.
"We don't know where the clues lead. The Undertow might be in the opposite direction."
"It's a calculated risk!"
"It's not calculated if you haven't done any calculations."
"Intuition is a form of calculation!"
"No, it isn't."
A horn sounded, cutting through the pre-dawn chatter. An official stepped onto a small platform, holding a stack of sealed envelopes.
"Hunters!" he called out. "The Tidefall Treasure Hunt is about to begin! When the second horn sounds, approach the table to receive your first clue. You may not open the envelope until you are away from this area. No flying, no teleportation, no magical assistance beyond everyday use. The first team to reach the final location and claim the treasure wins!"
He paused dramatically.
"May the tides favor you!"
The horn sounded again.
Chaos erupted.
* * *
They got their envelope and retreated to a quiet alley before opening it. The first clue was written on heavy paper in elegant calligraphy:
"Where the old gods sleep in stone and prayer,
Seek the anchor beneath Neptune's stare."
"The Temple District," Orion said immediately. "Old gods in stone—that's the temples. And Neptune is the sea god. There must be a shrine to Neptune with an anchor somewhere."
"You're good at this!" Nera beamed. "I was going to guess the fish market!"
"Why would old gods be at the fish market?"
"I don't know! Fish are ancient! They've been around forever!"
"That's... not how divinity works."
"You don't know how divinity works! Nobody knows!"
Orion decided not to pursue this philosophical tangent. "Temple District. Let's move."
They set off at a brisk walk—running would tire them out too quickly, and the hunt was designed to last most of the day. Other teams were dispersing in various directions, some clearly having figured out the clue, others looking confused.
Vex and Denna passed them going the opposite way.
"Wrong direction!" Vex shouted.
"Is it?" Orion called back.
"...maybe? We're exploring options!"
"Good luck with that!"
Nera giggled from his shoulder. "They're going to get so lost."
"Probably."
"I hope they have fun anyway."
"That's very generous of you."
"I'm a very generous person!"
* * *
The Temple District was quiet in the early morning, most worshippers not yet arrived for their daily devotions. Orion navigated the winding streets with growing confidence—they'd explored this area just days ago, and the layout was still fresh in his memory.
"Neptune's shrine should be near the harbor-side of the district," he said. "Sea gods usually want to be close to their domain."
"That makes sense!" Nera was scanning the buildings as they passed. "Oh! There! That one has a trident on it!"
She pointed to a modest stone building adorned with nautical carvings. Above the door, a bearded figure held a trident aloft—Neptune, Lord of the Deep.
They entered carefully, mindful of the sacred space. The interior was cool and dim, lit by blue-tinted windows that cast an underwater glow. At the far end, a statue of Neptune stood in a shallow pool, his stone eyes seeming to follow their movement.
"Beneath Neptune's stare," Orion murmured. "There."
An anchor was mounted on the wall beneath the statue—decorative, made of bronze, clearly a symbolic offering rather than a functional tool. And tucked behind it, barely visible, was another envelope.
"Got it!" Nera flew over and retrieved the clue while Orion kept watch.
They retreated outside before opening it.
"Where sweetness rises before the sun,
Find the queen who serves everyone."
"The bakery," Nera said immediately. "The Sugared Anchor! The gnome woman! She's the queen who serves everyone—she serves pastries!"
"That was fast."
"I pay attention to food-related things!"
"Evidently."
They set off for the Garden District, passing several other teams who were still searching the temples. One group was attempting to pry up floor stones, which seemed excessive. Another was interrogating a very confused priest about anchors.
"We're ahead," Orion observed.
"We're the best," Nera corrected. "There's a difference."
"Confidence isn't the same as competence."
"But they often go together! And we have both!"
* * *
The Sugared Anchor was already open when they arrived, the gnome baker pulling fresh pastries from her oven. She grinned when she saw them.
"Hunters! You're the third team to make it here. Good pace."
"Third?" Nera's wings drooped slightly. "I thought we were winning!"
"You're close to winning. Two teams came through about ten minutes ago." The gnome wiped her floury hands on her apron. "The clue's in the usual spot—behind the display case, taped to the wall. Help yourselves."
Orion retrieved the envelope while Nera—inevitably—purchased a pastry.
"For energy!" she insisted. "Treasure hunting is exhausting!"
"You've been sitting on my shoulder."
"Moral support is exhausting!"
They ate as they walked, reviewing the third clue:
"In the place where law holds sway,
Find the beast that guards the way."
"Stone Quarter," Orion said. "That's where the government buildings are—law holding sway. And there are statues outside the main courthouse. Some kind of guardian figures."
"How do you remember all this?"
"I paid attention when we explored."
"I paid attention too!"
"You paid attention to food vendors and interesting architectural details."
"Those are important!"
"They're not clue-relevant."
"Everything is potentially clue-relevant! You don't know what future clues might ask!"
She had a point, technically. But Orion didn't have time to acknowledge it—they were already moving toward the Stone Quarter, weaving through streets that were growing more crowded as the festival day progressed.
* * *
They reached the courthouse—a imposing granite building flanked by statues of some kind of lion-like creatures—just in time to see another team leaving with their clue.
"Second place!" the other team's leader shouted cheerfully. "Good luck catching up!"
"We'll manage," Orion said flatly.
The clue was hidden behind the left guardian statue, wedged into a crack in the stonework. The fourth envelope was slightly damp from morning dew.
"Where stories end and ale begins,
Seek wisdom from the keeper of sins."
"A tavern," Orion said. "Stories end and ale begins—that's definitely a tavern. But there are dozens of taverns in the city."
"The keeper of sins, though." Nera's brow furrowed. "That sounds specific. Religious? A priest who runs a tavern?"
"Or someone who hears confessions. Bartenders hear a lot of secrets."
"But which bartender?"
They stood in the courthouse square, momentarily stumped. Other teams were arriving, searching for the clue they'd already found. The morning was warming, the sun climbing higher.
"Wait." Orion thought back to their exploration of the city. "There was a tavern we passed in the Undertow. It had an odd name. Something about... repentance? Absolution?"
"The Sinner's Rest!" Nera snapped her fingers—a tiny sound. "I remember! It had a sign with a praying man holding a beer mug!"
"That's theologically confused, but it fits the clue."
"To the Undertow!"
They ran this time, the competition pressing them to move faster. The streets of the Stone Quarter gave way to the cramped alleys of the Undertow, the scenery shifting from official grandeur to desperate practicality.
The Sinner's Rest was exactly where Nera remembered it—a rundown establishment squeezed between a fishmonger and a pawnshop. The sign did indeed show a praying man with a beer mug, his expression suggesting he wasn't sure which activity to prioritize.
Inside, the tavern was nearly empty. A bored-looking human man stood behind the bar, polishing a glass with a rag that had seen better days.
"Treasure hunters?" he asked without enthusiasm.
"Yes."
"Clue's under the loose floorboard by the fireplace. Fourth team today. You're falling behind."
Orion found the floorboard and retrieved the envelope. This clue was different—longer, more complex:
"The hunt nears its end, brave seekers of fortune.
One final trial awaits your devotion.
Return to where the tides first revealed
The caves of salt, their secrets concealed.
But venture not within—the guardians wait.
The treasure lies above, through the eastern gate."
"The Saltmaw Caves," Orion said slowly. "But not inside—above them. The eastern gate..."
"The cliffs above the cave entrance," Nera said. "There must be a path up from the beach. The eastern gate could be some kind of landmark."
"That's outside the city. It'll take time to get there."
"Then we'd better move fast!"
* * *
They ran.
Through the Undertow, past the harbor, out through the southern gates that led to the coastal paths. The festival crowds thinned as they left the city proper, replaced by the occasional fisherman or beach-goer enjoying the holiday.
The Saltmaw Caves loomed ahead, their dark entrance visible against the white cliffs. But the clue had been clear—the treasure wasn't inside. It was above.
"There!" Nera pointed to a narrow path that wound up the cliff face. At the top, barely visible from below, was a stone archway—weathered by salt and time, but unmistakably a gate.
"The eastern gate," Orion panted. "We have to climb."
"You have to climb. I can fly."
"No flying, remember?"
"I'll fly very short distances! That's practically walking!"
"Nera."
"Fine!" She landed on his shoulder, gripping his collar. "Climb fast!"
Orion climbed.
The path was steep but manageable, carved into the cliff by generations of use. His legs burned and his lungs protested, but he pushed through, driven by the knowledge that other teams were likely not far behind.
Halfway up, he heard something.
A sound from below—from the caves. A low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the stone itself.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
"Hear what?"
"That sound. From the caves."
Nera's grip tightened on his collar. "I didn't hear anything. But..." She was quiet for a moment. "I feel something. Something wrong. Deep down."
Orion wanted to stop, to investigate, to understand what was happening. But they were in the middle of a competition, and other teams were coming, and there wasn't time.
"Later," he said. "We'll figure it out later."
"Okay," Nera said, but she sounded uncertain. "Later."
They continued climbing.
* * *
The eastern gate was beautiful in a haunting way—an arch of weathered stone that framed a view of the endless ocean. Through it, a small plateau offered a perfect vista of the coastline stretching in both directions.
And in the center of the plateau, a chest.
"We made it!" Nera leaped from his shoulder, expanding to human size in her excitement. "We actually made it!"
Orion approached the chest cautiously. It was wooden, bound with brass, decorated with the wave motif that was everywhere during the festival. A lock held it closed, but a note attached to the top read: "Congratulations, hunters! Open to claim your prize."
"Should we wait?" Orion asked. "Make sure we're actually first?"
"Why would we wait? We're here! The treasure is here! Open it!"
Orion lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled on a bed of blue velvet, were three things: a pouch of coins (twenty silver, as promised), a pair of bronze medallions engraved with "Tide Champions," and a scroll.
"We won," Nera breathed. "We actually won."
"Read the scroll," Orion said.
Nera unrolled it. Her expression shifted from triumph to confusion as she read.
"'Congratulations to the Tide Champions of the Three Hundredth Tidefall Festival. Your prize, in addition to the coin, is the honor of participating in the Tide King and Queen ceremony on the final night. You will be presented to the city as exemplars of dedication, cleverness, and the spirit of the hunt. Please report to the Stone Quarter administrative building by sunset to receive further instructions.'"
"We have to be in a ceremony?" Orion's enthusiasm dimmed considerably.
"We get to be in a ceremony!" Nera's enthusiasm increased proportionally. "We'll be presented! To the city! As exemplars!"
"I don't want to be presented."
"Too late! We won! We have responsibilities now!"
"I take back entering this competition."
"You can't take it back! We're champions!" She threw her arms around him, laughing. "Tide Champions! That's us!"
Despite himself, Orion felt a smile tugging at his mouth. Her joy was infectious, as always. And they had won, against two dozen other teams. That was something.
"Fine," he said. "We'll do the ceremony."
"It'll be wonderful!"
"It'll be terrible."
"Wonderfully terrible!"
"That's not—" He stopped. "Actually, that's probably accurate."
They stood together on the clifftop, looking out at the sea, the afternoon sun warm on their faces. Behind them, they could hear other teams finally reaching the plateau, their disappointed exclamations confirming what the empty chest had already told them.
Second place. Third place. The others.
But Orion and Nera were first.
Tide Champions.
"Hey," Nera said softly, leaning into him. "I love you."
"I know."
"Say it back."
"I love you too."
"Better."
They stayed there a while longer, watching the waves crash against the cliffs below.
Neither of them mentioned the sound from the caves.
Neither of them wanted to think about what it might mean.
* * *
That night, in the tunnels beneath the city, the ancient thing stirred again.
It had felt them. The hunters, climbing above its domain. Two of them had lingered near the caves—had nearly come inside—and it had reached out, just slightly, to taste their presence.
One of them had power. Strange power, unfamiliar. It made the ancient thing curious.
The other one...
The other one was not what she appeared to be.
The ancient thing had lived for eons. It had seen empires rise and fall, had watched the sea claim civilizations, had fed on the fear and worship of countless generations. It knew power when it sensed it.
And the small one—the one who looked like a pixie—was more powerful than anything the ancient thing had encountered in a very, very long time.
Interesting.
The barrier was weakening. Soon it would break entirely. And when it did...
The ancient thing would rise. It would feed. It would reclaim what had been taken from it centuries ago.
But perhaps, if it was clever, it could claim something else as well.
Something with power.
It began to plan.
— End of Chapter Ten —