The Luna Queen's Rebirth (Ellie and Dominic) novel Chapter 470

Chapter 470

The stone scraped at my coat, caught, then released with a rip that made me wince. Behind me I heard Bastian swearing as he forced his shoulders through the gap.

The passage ran short and tight, but then it opened up all at once into a chamber large enough to stand in

It was a cave. Small, dry, dead quiet after the screaming wind outside, and there in the middle of it, cross-legged on the stone floor with his mittens still on, entirely alive, was my little brother.

“Eli!”

He turned, and his face lit up like I’d brought him a present. “Ellie! Look, look! I found it!”

The relief hit me so hard my knees nearly bucvkled. I dropped down and grabbed him, running my hands over his arms, his face, checking him over for injury. He was cold, but he was whole. His nose was running. That was the worst of it.

“Are you hurt?” I demanded. “Anywhere?”

“No.” He wriggled in my grip and jabbed one mitten toward the back wall. “You’re not looking. Look!”

Bastian burst out of the passage behind me with Nico and Dominic on his heels, and for a second the little cave was full of chaos, Nico saying “Oh, thank the Goddess,” over and over, Bastian’s chest heaving as he hauled Eli into his arms and clutched him tight.

Eli, completely unbothered by all of it, pointed at the wall again.

“The treasure,” he insisted. “I found a clue.”

I lifted the lantern.

An etching had been carved into the stone, the lines softened by time but unmistakable. A mountain. Our mountain-I recognized the shape of the summit, the crooked shoulder of rock on its eastern face that I looked at every morning from the clinic window. Above the peak, a small cluster of stars had been chipped into the stone in a pattern I’d seen a dozen times before, repeated across the pillars of the ruins.

And carved clean through the middle of it all was an arrow. It pointed at that eastern face like it was saying “Go here.”

Behind me, Bastian huffed and moved forward, still holding Eli, his fingers brushing over the reliefs in the

stone.

“That’s…” He shook his head and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, the same one from the library, holding it up beside the etching. “Light that leads where water follows. It’s not pointing at where the water comes out.” His finger traced the arrow up the carved mountainside. “It’s pointing at where it gets in. The source-it’s rain.”

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