Ankarette nodded emphatically. “It’s all so very simple. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“Tell me?” Owen pressed. He loved staring into her sad eyes, looking at her lovely smile. Ankarette had come to feel like a mother in this place so far from home.
“As you know, I’ve made an acquaintance of Mancini,” she said in a near whisper. “He seeks to do away with Ratcliffe so that he himself might become master of the Espion. I have been helping him with his goal. In return, he will help me with mine. One way to prove that you are Fountain-blessed, Owen, is if you can bring information to the king before Ratcliffe does. It won’t be easy. Mancini is helping me track down the first tidbits to help build your reputation. Something that will help you without compromising him. Something that Ratcliffe intends to tell the king later, only you will tell him first. You will become a fortune-teller, in a way. Only a Fountain-blessed could have that power of sight.”
“I’m . . . I’m not sure I am brave enough,” Owen said in a small voice.
Ankarette leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Then you must learn courage, Owen. You must learn it however you can.”
The thought of Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer came to his mind. She was the most fearless person he knew. How had she become that way?
He fell asleep while thinking about her.
The next day, the two youths were in the interior yard of the palace grounds, arms held out for balance as they walked in the great circle around the rim of the enormous fountain in the yard. Jewel scolded them for risking a fall, but they ignored her. The Mortimer girl was trying to catch up to Owen. He had to keep one eye on the tiles at his feet, and the other on her to make sure she wasn’t gaining on him, which she was. He tried to walk faster to widen the distance. The sky was blue and clear of clouds, and the fountain water lapped playfully.
“How come you’re not afraid of anything?” Owen asked as they walked.
“Because of my father,” the Mortimer girl replied breezily. He could hear the silver laugh in her voice. She was trying really hard to catch up with him. It was obvious she found this kind of play much more interesting than watching him build rows of tiles to knock over.
“How did he teach you?” Owen pressed.
“He taught me to climb waterfalls,” she responded matter-of-factly.
“What?” He stumbled a bit and almost fell off the fountain wall.
“Ha! You were about to fall in!” she teased with her silvery laugh. “I’m going to catch you, Owen Kiskaddon!”
Not if I catch you first!
“In the North we have the most beautiful mountains. They’re covered in snow all winter, but the water melts in the spring and feeds huge waterfalls.”
“Like the one by Our Lady?” he asked, keeping his focus, his arms helping him balance.
“Not like that one,” she said, disagreeing. “These waterfalls come off the cliffs. They are huge! They feed the river that flows down here. This one is wide but not as deep. In the North, the waterfalls are beautiful! My father took me for hikes up to the top of one of the waterfalls. There are portions where the mist is so heavy everything is wet and it’s easy to slip. But when you reach the top, you can watch the water shooting down. They even built a bridge spanning the waterfall, so you can stand at the very top of it and watch the water come down. It’s like watching a snowstorm from a cloud. I can’t wait to take you there, Owen! The mountains are steep and hard to climb, but I’ve done it so long my papa said I’m a billy goat!” She made some bleating noises and then started to run after him.
“You’re not supposed—!” Owen stopped, realizing he had one choice: run or be caught. He was getting dizzier with each step, but he was determined not to let her catch up with him.
“Stop running, lass!” Jewel shouted. “You’re going to fall in, and bless me if your grandfather won’t take a switch to you then!”
The Mortimer girl ignored her, and Owen risked a glance over his shoulder to look at her. There was a hunter’s grin on her face as she charged at him, but he kept his balance and ran faster.
Suddenly there was a splash of water, and Owen turned to see that she had stumbled into the fountain water. There was a startled look on her face, and she had landed on her hands and knees. He quickly made it around to her, watching as she rose, sopping wet, her dark hair plastered to her cheeks. She did not look chagrined at all—rather, she seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Mistress Mortimer, you get out of there!” Jewel shouted angrily, hobbling toward the fountain.