Chapter 16
Under the Water
This was the Dursen Head Mine? Out here, in the ocean?
Hamal blinked and rubbed the top of his head. All three of his hats, especially the top one, were damp from the wild drop through the water tunnel. “How can this be the mine? We aren’t on shore.”
In fact, they were a long distance away from the shore—in the middle of the sea. He knew mines were like caves, which could run deep into the earth, but how could this stray opening at the bottom of the sea be part of the same mine back on land?
Cale sounded quite pleased with himself as he explained, “We are making good use of a mistake. This tunnel was carved with fire and liquid stone by a volcano in the last age. About a mile from here, the miners accidently dug into it, connecting the Ephram Mine with the open sea. Do you remember the afternoon we spent with the Elortons, Hamal? Well, this was what we were doing—studying the maps they had of this area. The element of surprise is a handy tool in certain cases.”
Hamal remembered their visit to the Elortons’ library and wished he had paid more attention at the time.
“The mine itself was carved by the hands of men, with pickax and hammer,” Cale went on. “This passage, however, was not carved by men. It will take us into the heart of the mine, just below a large cavern that Ephram uses as an office. We shall have the element of surprise.”
“We aren’t leaving the same way we came in, are we?” Hamal asked.
Masly snickered.
“It is unlikely the boat survived,” Cale answered.
“Does that mean no?”
“That means no.”
“Then,” Hamal said, “carry on.”
Light flashed through the cave. Hamal jumped and looked back to see that Ermond had lengthened the light shaft. The weathermaker held the glowing shard with ease, as if it were nothing more than a gardening tool.
“I’ll take point,” he volunteered.
The tunnel they stood in sloped upward. All surfaces were pockmarked and rough, like an old sea sponge, and the color was dull gray-black except for patches that glistened in the light of Ermond’s lightning bolt. Hamal didn’t think the shiny patches were gold, but this was a gold mine. He supposed it was possible.
Cale, Masly, and Lord Rhyan were standing in water that was ankle deep. Where Hamal stood, the water came to his knees, and then behind him down the slope, Vincent and Ermond waded through water nearly as deep as their belts.
“Don’t drop that,” Masly commanded, frowning at the bolt in Ermond’s hand as the weathermaker shuffled through the water. “The water would carry the current, and it would be the last breath the rest of us took.”
“I’ll save you if you die,” Hamal reassured him.
“Yes, but who will save me if you die?” Masly replied.
Hamal shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I’ve always been fine before.”
Cale chuckled.
They continued on. An alert Lord Rhyan meant heat, and the undersea passage soon began to warm. Rhyan’s clothes dried immediately, which made Hamal a little wistful, but an hour into their uphill journey, he realized his own clothes were dry as well. It was good to be friends with a flamemaker. They really were quite helpful with wet clothing.
“I say, Cale?”
“Yes, Hamal?”
“Do we need to be quiet?”
“Not yet,” the seer answered. “Guards patrol the mine, but we won’t need to worry about running into any of those for at least two hours. The goal is to observe, make note of anything that does not align with what Amber Rassone told us, and leave without contact.”
“But leave by a different way,” Hamal reminded him.
In the bobbing shadows, Cale nodded. “Yes. A different way.”
“So, if we don’t need to be quiet yet, then I have a question.”
“Yes?”
Hamal glanced at Masly and Lord Rhyan, who walked between him and Cale. He thought about how Rhyan reacted when he learned about Cale’s secret marriage to the king’s cousin and wondered if, perhaps, this question should wait. But it wasn’t as if this was a secret. Not like Cale and Satha’s marriage. It was a fact, not a secret.
So eventually Hamal said, “You do know Vincent is not a weathermaker, don’t you? He works for you, so you must know that—right?”
Masly and Rhyan stopped. Hamal bumped into Masly’s back and apologized.
Ahead of them, Cale turned around and gave Hamal his full attention, silver eyes sharp. “Please explain what you mean. How is Vincent…not a weathermaker?”
Oh. Hamal twitched, and then he twitched again as he realized everyone else had stopped as well—especially Vincent. The volcano tunnel was nearly silent now. No one made a sound.
“Well,” Hamal said, “everybody has been saying he’s a weathermaker, but he can’t be a weathermaker, not if he’s moving water. Weathermakers can make lightning and wind and thunder; that’s easy enough, if you’re a weathermaker. But making water move? Or making it change its mind and go a different direction, like he did to get us down here? Only a waterman can do that.”
“A waterman,” Cale said.
“Yes. A waterman. It’s an interesting gift—it can do unique things, which is probably why you hired him. A waterman is like a weathermaker. The two gifts are very close together, but they’re—well, they’re different, with different strengths. Also, you don’t find many watermen living in the city. Mostly, you find them in coastal places, like up in King’s Bay. And only men can be watermen. Isn’t that interesting? Daughters born to watermen are weathermakers.”
Cale lifted his head and glanced down the line at Vincent. “You are certain of this, Hamal?”
“Oh yes. Vincent can do almost anything a weathermaker can, but he probably has trouble with lightning, doesn’t he? And he probably can’t talk with thunder, the way most weathermakers can. But it would be easy for him to push a boat on the ocean, like he did today. He probably didn’t use wind. It was probably water. Any water found anywhere, even in the air—Vincent can use it. He can make it do whatever he wants it to do. It looks like he’s using wind, when he actually is using water.”
Hamal pulled off his hats and rubbed the top of his head because everyone was still looking at him. “Anyway, I thought you knew about Vincent, but then you also called him a weathermaker. So that’s why I’m asking.”
“How many watermen have you met?” Cale asked.
Hamal shrugged. “Well, I’ve known lots but not any in the city. I’ve known them in other places. Does Vincent’s family come from the coast? Watermen always live near water, because it feels more comfortable to them. You won’t find any in dry places like Dasken. They’re kind of like the e’nethaine in that way—they like the water—and Dasken is mostly desert, you know.”
Cale stood there a moment longer, considering. And then with a nod, he said, “Very well; Vincent is a waterman,” and turned and started up the slope again.
They walked for several minutes before conversations quietly began again—mostly in front of him, between Masly and Rhyan—and Hamal wondered what Vincent was thinking. Perhaps, if he was bothered at what he felt were shortcomings in his gifting, he could realize now they were not shortcomings after all. He just wasn’t what he thought he was.
“Hamal,” Cale said.
“Yes?”
“Do you remember our conversation with the Elortons?”
“A little. Why?”
“Do you remember how they mentioned hearing stories about strange things happening in this mine with healers and that some believe the Ephram Mine is haunted? Whatever lives here, if something lives here, it does not like healers.”
Hamal scoffed.
No one else joined in.
“It can’t be the e’nethaine,” Hamal said, just like he had before. “They have their own healers. They wouldn’t have a reason to hurt me. If they wanted to, they could just talk to me and tell me what was wrong.”
Somebody ahead of him—it sounded like Rhyan—made a strange noise, almost like he was choking.
“I do not believe it is the e’nethaine,” Cale said. “I agree with your assessment. However, I do want you to begin counting heartbeats. The path is smooth and clear from this point forward; we will be able to make our observations and leave without distress. Both Masly and I have seen this. Yet, until we know exactly what is happening within the mine and how it involves your gifting, I would like you to count heartbeats.” Cale hesitated. “To make certain we truly are alone in the dark.”
– H –
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Comment below or find us on Facebook. Copyright notice: © 2026 by Lauren Stinton. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or sapient plants is purely coincidental.
