Chapter 120

Ava

A short while later, Chris, Leonard, and I stood dripping wet in the council room, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floor as we faced the stern gazes of the Elders.

Elise, her silver hair pulled back into a severe bun, pursed her lips in disapproval and tugged her robe tighter around herself. “Would someone care to explain just what is going on here?” she barked. “It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning and you three are soaking wet!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Chris beat me to it. “We were… swimming in the cave,” he explained. A disapproving murmur rippled through the assembled Elders, and I fought the urge to bury my face in my hands.

But before anyone else could speak, Leonard stepped forward, the necklace still dangling from his fist. “We found this at the bottom of the swimming hole,” he said, his voice grave. “You know who this belongs to.”

A hush fell over the room as the Elders leaned in, their eyes widening in recognition. Even Degas raised his eyebrows in a rare show of shock.

“Is that… Olivia’s necklace?” Claire breathed, her gaze flickering back and forth between the three of us. “The one she always wore?”

I gave a solemn nod, my throat tightening. If Olivia’s necklace was there, it could only mean one thing—she had paid a recent visit to the swimming hole. And if she had been there…

“Then it is possible that she is still in the area,” Degas rumbled, his brow furrowing deeply as he leaned on his cane. “We must organize a search—”

Suddenly, before Degas could finish, his words were lost in the midst of a coughing fit. The weathered Elder hunched over on his cane, covering his mouth with a trembling hand. Chris and I quickly exchanged nervous glances as Fatima stepped forward and took Degas by the elbow.

“Degas is right,” she said, rubbing his back gently. “We must mobilize a search party immediately. She might still be in the area, but perhaps not for long.”

A flurry of activity followed as the Elders began barking orders, sending out scouts to scour the surrounding woods for any sign of Olivia’s presence. Within minutes, Leonard, Chris and I were rushing out of the council room to change into dry clothes and grab supplies for a nighttime search.

As I pulled on a thermal henley and laced up my boots back at my cottage, my fingers shook. “You know you don’t have to do this,” I said, glancing up at Ophelia. “You’re welcome to stay here and relax.”

Ophelia let out a snort and stroked the back of Princess’s head. I had loaned her a pair of jeans, boots, and a warm sweater, and she had her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. “Nonsense,” she said. “I couldn’t possibly sit around with you out there; after all, I do love a good mystery.”

A soft knock at the door pulled us out of our conversation. “Come in,” I called out, turning to find Chris leaning against the doorframe.

“We have to hurry,” he said. “Clock’s ticking.”

…

A small group had already assembled in the forest, armed with flashlights and high-visibility vests. Ophelia was still holding Princess, the wind ruffling her hair beside me while Leonard distributed walkie-talkies and maps.

“Alright, everyone,” Chris announced, clapping his hands together. “Our top priority is locating Olivia and assessing the potential threat she poses. Remember, she’s cunning and resourceful, so stay alert and report anything out of the ordinary, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”

A chorus of affirmative murmurs rippled through the group as we all exchanged grim looks. This was it—the moment when, hopefully, we would find Olivia, find the moonstone, and put all of this to rest.

Without another word, we set off into the darkness of the woods, our flashlight beams cutting through the inky blackness as we fanned out in a wide search pattern. The night was still and silent, save for the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath our boots and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Up ahead, a few of Chris’s most trusted guards had shifted and were prowling the forest, their noses to the ground. The rest of us wandered quietly, taking care not to disturb anything unnecessarily.

I stuck close to Chris and Ophelia, our little trio moving in tense silence as we scanned the underbrush for any sign of disturbance. Every now and then, we would pause to take note of the slightest thing—an overturned rock, a broken twig, a crushed leaf.

We must have trekked for miles, the hours slipping by one after the other. My legs were aching, my feet screaming in protest after what felt like an eternity of navigating the uneven terrain. It seemed as though we were unlikely to find anything; Olivia had probably already long since disappeared, and our search was futile.

But then, suddenly, Princess let out a shrill series of barks. Her little body began to scramble, clawing desperately to be free. Ophelia cursed under her breath, struggling to maintain her grip for a moment before the little dog finally wriggled away and leaped to the forest floor.

“Princess!” she cried out, already sprinting after the little dog. “Princess, where are you going?!”

Without thinking, Chris and I took off after them, our flashlight beams bobbing erratically as we raced to keep up. Branches whipped at my face, stinging my cheeks as I fought to keep Ophelia and her unruly dog in sight.

Up ahead, I could see Princess making a beeline for a steep ravine, the ground sloping sharply downward. My heart leaped into my throat as Ophelia’s foot caught on a gnarled root, sending her pitching forward with a startled yelp.

“Ophelia!” I screamed, putting on an extra burst of speed.

But it was too late—she was already tumbling forward, her arms windmilling dangerously. For a moment, I thought that she might fall to her death, and I pushed myself even faster, my hand reaching for her.

Suddenly, a tall form burst out of the treeline and collided with her, tumbling with her to the forest floor—to safety.

“Oh! Leonard,” Ophelia breathed, her chest heaving. “I—”

I was mere steps behind them, however, when the ground suddenly gave way beneath my feet. A strangled cry tore from my lips as I felt myself freefalling, the world tilting sickeningly around me.

Then, just as suddenly, a vice-like grip clamped around my wrist and wrenched me back with enough force to nearly dislocate my shoulder. I dangled precariously over the edge of the ravine, my heart thundering in my ears as I stared down at the jagged rocks and twisted roots below.

Slowly, I tilted my head back to find Chris clinging to me with a white-knuckled grip, his jaw clenched with exertion as he hauled me back onto solid ground. We collapsed in a tangled heap, our chests heaving as we clung to each other.

It was only then that I became aware of the sound of the little dog growling at the edge of the ravine. I looked up to see Princess standing there, every tiny muscle on high alert, her tail ramrod straight as she stared down into the darkness.

Exchanging a curious glance with Chris, we crawled to the edge and peered over. Our flashlight beams cut through the darkness… And that was when we saw her.

Lying motionless among the twisted roots and scattered debris was the crumpled form of a young woman.