Page 93 of Lore of the Tides

“I hate to even ask, but... what exactly happens to them?”

“Oh, all kinds of things can happen.” She began to list them, ticking them off finger by finger. “I think most probably die of thirst. Or get lost in the mountains and never find their way out. Or fall off a cliff. Or get crushed in an avalanche of boulders as large as this inn. And then, of course, there are the dragons.” Pytheah said all of these horrible prospects with a delighted grin on her face.

Lore felt ill and pounced on the one thing she hadn’t thought would kill them when they eventually made it to the Golden Cascades. “Dragons are a myth, aren’t they?”

“Dragons might be a myth where you’re from—which, by the way, is that under a rock? Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend, I thought it would be funny—but, uh, yeah, dragons aredefinitelyreal, and it’s known that at least three documented Reddies, that’s what we call ourselves, those looking for his treasure, that at least three documented Reddies have been burned to a crisp. Or at least had a hand taken off by a dragon.”

A loud snort came from behind them. “Dragons are about as real as Ayred’s stash, Pytheah.” Lore swiveled to see a young version of the innkeeper standing behind them, holding two keys. She was lovely, with warm brown skin, short-cropped curly hair, and delicately pointed fae ears.

“Agree to disagree, Joya,” Pytheah retorted. But she wasn’t angry; the smile Pytheah shared with Joya was a sweet, lovely thing.

“You’ve spent months combing the Cascades, and you’ve never seen any evidence of a dragon, let alonemultiple.”

Pytheah snapped the book she was holding shut. “I told you, last time I was up there, I saw one!”

Svalja’s granddaughter huffed. “And I toldyou, that was probably just a griffin. You said yourself it was in silhouette against the sun and you couldn’t be sure.”

“I’ve since made up my mind. It was definitely a dragon, not a griffin.”

“You’ve seen a griffin? In the Golden Cascades?” Lore couldn’t help but interject.

“Well, yes, I’ve seen tons of them. But I’ve also seen a dragon. I think.”

Joya rolled her eyes before putting on a pleasant smile and addressing Lore, Finn, and Hazen. “Zane’s party, your rooms are ready. You’d better hurry and follow me before the water gets cold.”

Hazen, who had been pretending to doze in the oversize chair, leaped out of it and hauled his overstuffed pack onto his back. “Finally. Your words are music to my ears.”

Lore was beginning to think he wanted a bath more than she did. Wasn’t he used to the salt?

Finndryl and Hazen began to walk with Joya to the rooms, but Lore’s gut was telling hernot yet.

“Pytheah, it was lovely to meet you. I would love to talk more with you about this dragon you saw. Will you be having breakfast in the common room tomorrow?”

Maybe Lore could eat with her and pick her brain about the griffins she’d seen.

Pytheah’s jaw dropped momentarily before she snapped it shut. “That is so kind of you to ask. It’s not often one finds a friend whentraveling. But.” Pytheah’s shoulders slumped. “I’m actually leaving tonight. I just stopped by to see if there were any new additions to the Reddies’ stash.”

Tonight? Shit.

“Reddies’ stash?” Lore asked. She didn’t want to keep Joya waiting, but she had to see... Hazen began to tap his foot impatiently and checked the timepiece on his arm. Lore ignored him; the prince could go another five minutes without his bath. Finndryl was watching Lore and Pytheah, his eyes inquisitive.

“Us Reddies are sort of an unofficial guild. I mean, there aren’t enough of us to make an official one. I realize it sounds odd that we share our knowledge. Are we in competition? Yes. But a lot of us do this for the hunt itself. Finding the treasure would be wonderful, but we aren’t going to hoard our knowledge when wedon’tfind it.” Pytheah jutted her chin toward the reception desk, her words coming faster and faster. “Svalja was one of the first Reddies back in the day. She’s retired now, of course, but in her prime, she wasfierce. I’m convinced that if she hadn’t gotten so old, she would’ve been the one to find the treasure. But anyway, us Reddies practicallyworshipher, and when we are in the area we always visit, pay our respects. Over the years, we’ve started leaving each other notes, pages of our Reddy journals, and stuff like that. There is something sweet about finding new pages, tips, or newly discovered Ayred lore. Almost feels like you’ve got a friend with you.”

“Why don’t you team up and hunt together?” Lore ignored Hazen as he dramatically checked his timepiece again. “Then you wouldn’t have to hunt alone.”

Pytheah barked a laugh. “We are friendly, but not that friendly. I don’t plan on splitting the treasure with another Reddy. And anyway, I don’t trust anyone that much. They could murder me in my sleep and take it all for themselves!” Pytheah dropped the book she’d been perusing haphazardly on the shelf. Lore winced, itchingto find the correct spot for it. “It’s common knowledge that treasure hunters are notorious for doing that.”

Lore nodded her head. Was it common knowledge, though?

“So you are leaving tonight, then?” Lore tried to sound casual as she asked, “Are you heading out to the Golden Cascades?”

“She is,” Joya chimed in, her innkeeper face and voice replaced with a scowl. “No matter how many times I tell her it’s dangerous to hike the Cascades, she always goes back out there.”

“I’m an explorer, Joya. A Reddy. I’m not afraid of a few dry peaks.”

Joya sputtered. “‘A few dry peaks’? Pytheah, the Cascades aretreacherous. I’m just waiting for the day you don’t return.” She crossed her arms. “And I won’t be the one going to look for you.”

“I’ll be so pissed if the only time I get you on those mountains, you aren’t with me.”

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