Kellan stares at it in shock. “It’s true?”
“I saw it myself.”
Kellan rubs his chin. “Interesting that he showed you.”
I ignore his curiosity and focus on the rudimentary map. “As far as I can tell, no one who uses the Mountain Well is having any adverse side effects. It’s just those of us in town, and if the well water really does flow underground and come out somewhere else, maybe it’s also corrupting the Drained.”
We both stare at the markers as if they hold all the answers.
Kellan turns to look at the rows of bookcases. “I wouldn’t put it above our father or grandfather to hide any detailed maps in the vault somewhere, but there must be depictions somewhere they haven’t thought of.”
“The city planner?” I suggest. “I know he spends a lot of time with the mayor, but I can never tell if he actually likes Rafe, or if it’s just a necessity of his job. But surely, if he’s in charge of all city expansion and redesign, he needs to have records about Lunameade’s foundation.”
Kellan rubs his chin and frowns. “I really don’t want you near Rafe or any of his allies.”
I roll my eyes. “If there was any other option, I would take it. It’s not like I want to spend quality time with him.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his face fixed in a frown. “I worry about you being alone with Rafe.”
“You should worry forhim.”
He turns and walks down the row of history books, brushing his finger along the spines, humming as he goes. “So, not history and not the blessing records.”
“Maybe under agriculture?” I suggest. “Surely the city’s farmers need to be aware of all water access points. Remember that book Aidia was obsessed with when she was learning how to use her magic? It had illustrations of all of those different native plants that she used her light magic to practice replicating.”
Kellan whips his head around to look at me. “That wasn’t written by a farmer. It was by our great-great-grandmother, Louisa Carrenwell. And she didn’t just draw the plants. She also had a blessing from Stellaria—she made it her life’s works to capture the art and culture of Lunameade, which meant native plants and gardening, traditions and celebrations, and—” He darts to the other side of the library, disappears into the stacks, and emerges a moment later with two books held high in the air. “Hand-drawn depictions of art in the city. It’s probably not exact, but I vaguely remember a whole series of maps of the city layout through history. It’s possible there’s something old enough that it’s from before our family started hoarding their secrets.”
He places one book in front of me and sits down in the chair next to me with the other.
I carefully flip through the first few pages of handwritten notes. There’s no table of contents, so I go a page at a time, watching our history pass in a blur of paintings, mosaics, sculptures, and architecture.
Kellan gasps. “Here.” He points to the open page. “There are a few maps, but this one has some water markings.” He traces his finger over the drawing. “These ones that are marked with squiggly lines must be the first water channels. That’s what they used before the modern pipe system and obviously it wasn’t as intricate as what we have now. The direction of the lines show how they flow. And this triple down arrowmust be the water flowing out. You can see they all channel clean water to the west side of the city and wastewater out to the east.”
“So that has to be freshwater from the Rylan River streams,” I say.
Kellan nods, still completely entranced by the drawing. “This bucket marking is right where the Blood Well is, and there’s another one here in our house just south of there. So it’s safe to say that’s how she marked the wells.” He flips the page to a map of the original Mountain Haven fort. “There’s one marked on there. We could work with the theory that the well flow starts at the Mountain Well, flows to the Blood Well, and then to the Family Well.”
“So the fact that it’s in here means our family has always known,” I say.
Kellan runs a hand through his hair, leaving his black waves sticking up in all directions. “Maybe, but if our father had known all along, I suspect he would have made an issue of it sooner. Also, if the Havenwoods had the well the whole time, why were they still sending their kids here to be blessed in the Blood Well every month until the Drained Wood became too dangerous?”
I frown, considering it. “To keep up the illusion? Maybe they only sent a few children and the rest were blessed in their well.”
He shakes his head and frowns at the map. “We only have speculation. The well flow isn’t marked.”
I tap a series of “Xs” just southwest of South Hold that stretch from just beyond the South Gate into the Drained Wood. “Then what are these? It says in the map key that this is a no-build zone. Obviously, we don’t know for sure, but it’s a good guess.”
Kellan traces the well flow with his finger. “I could have a group go out to investigate. At least a little ways away from the gates to see if there’s any sign of contamination.”
I absently flip through the book in front of me, stopping abruptly on a familiar image.
The sketch is of a painting of a man stepping out of sparkling water. It’s not just the familiarity of the image that catches my eye. It’s the title. “Stellaria’s Deathless.”
“Where have I seen this before?” I know this painting well, but somehow I can’t seem to summon the memory of it.
Kellan follows my finger to the drawing and freezes. “You can’t be serious.”
I frown. “Is it in one of the Stellaria shrines?”
