The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [67]
Sudacar interrupted his story as he grasped at the gleaming bass on his line and slipped it off his hook. He poked a holding string through its gills, looped the string over a rock, and let the fish drop back in the water to wriggle before suppertime. Giogi looked upstream toward Spring Hill. Strangers to Immersea often wondered why the Wyvernspurs hadn't built Redstone Castle on Spring Hill. It was the tallest hill on their land; it had the best view of the surrounding countryside, and a natural spring of sweet water gushed from its peak. The family's founder, Paton Wyvernspur, had dedicated Spring Hill to the goddess Selune, according to legend, at the request of the goddess herself. None of his descendants was ever so foolish as to try to take it back.
These days, the spring's water poured from Selune's temple, tumbled down the hill in a series of enchanting cascades, and ultimately became the Immer Stream. There was a road approaching Spring Hill from the north, which wound up the hill to the temple, but the hike alongside the water was far more interesting. The sun was getting low, but Giogi figured he had just enough time to make the climb and speak to Mother Lleddew before dark.
Sudacar followed Giogi's gaze and guessed his intentions. "Could be a tricky climb in this weather," he warned. "Maybe you should take the road instead."
"It's so far out of the way to reach the road," Giogi argued. "Besides, I've climbed the stream path often enough as a boy."
Sudacar shrugged. "I hope you find what you need to know," he said as he cast his line out again.
"Thanks." Giogi turned and began striding to the west.
At first, the going was not too difficult. The ground was level, and the muddy banks were frozen enough to hold his weight but rough enough to offer traction for walking. Ahead of him, the westering sun was breaking through the canopy of clouds. The red rays of the last light of day made the crystalline sleet at his feet shimmer like rubies.
Giogi had to slow down once he reached the lowest cascade of water at the base of Spring Hill. The red light had subsided to indigo; the marshy fields ended and thick woods began, and his path begin to climb a steep slope, over large rocks and boulders slick with ice. Giogi tucked his mittens in his pockets to keep them dry as he scrabbled for handholds to keep his balance.
A third of the way from the top of the hill, the stream crossed the road that wound around the hill to the temple. A simple but sturdy stone bridge spanned the water, high enough to allow someone moving up the stream to walk beneath it.
By the time Giogi reached the bridge, it would have been easier and safer-and possibly faster-to climb the banks and take the road. Yet the nobleman couldn't bring himself to abandon his original course, even though he was cold and tired and getting a little hungry. When he was a boy, other children called the cascades Selune's Stair, and they said that if a person climbed to the top of them, he or she was supposed to get his or her heart's desire. Of course, one was supposed to climb them in the water by moonlight, but Giogi figured Selune would make allowances considering the season and weather.
A tiny, niggling voice in his head told him he was wasting his time and energy playing silly games. The voice sounded suspiciously like Aunt Dorath, so Giogi ignored it and continued climbing, leaving the road behind.
So far, he'd been pretty impressed with himself. His skill at scrabbling up the slope and leaping from one rock to another had not deteriorated with maturity. He might not have looked quite as agile as a mountain goat, but he felt it-until he reached the final cascade.
The last cascade was larger and steeper than the rest, and at its base was a wide pool. More mist hung in the air, so the rocks