Chapter 137 The River's Choice

Chapter 137 The River's Choice
Tessa's POV
The message stayed in Dylan's pocket for the rest of the night.
Neither of us mentioned it again.
There was little point debating possibilities until morning, and everyone needed whatever rest they could find before another long day on the road.
The watchtower remained peaceful beneath the moon, its weathered stones holding the warmth of countless seasons.
When dawn finally painted the eastern sky with streaks of gold, the camp stirred awake.
Grace helped Ruth prepare breakfast while Daniel and Anthony searched the grass for smooth stones they insisted would become their next carvings.
Micah climbed to the top of the tower one last time before joining us.
"The valley is clear."
Renwick looked up from tightening the straps on his pack.
"Anyone following us?"
"Not that I can see."
"Good."
He preferred certainty.
This journey rarely offered it.

Once breakfast was finished, Dylan unfolded the strip of cloth and placed it beside the map.
"Anthony heard someone calling for help."
He looked around the group.
"This message tells us not to follow that voice."
Caleb studied the faded handwriting.
"The person who sent this has helped us before."
"The flute."
"The basket."
"The embroidered cloth."
He tapped the edge of the map.
"None of those led us into danger."
Samuel nodded.
"I trust whoever sent it."
Renwick considered both sides before speaking.
"The cry could be another trap."
"It could," Dylan agreed.
"And ignoring it could leave an innocent person waiting."
The choice wasn't simple.
Every pair of eyes eventually turned toward Miriam.
She had spent years watching these valleys.
"If it were my decision," she said quietly, "I'd follow the river."
"Why?"
"The river doesn't promise answers."
She smiled gently.
"It simply keeps moving."
Her words settled over the group.
Sometimes the safest direction wasn't the most dramatic one.
It was the one that demanded patience.
Dylan folded the map.
"We follow the river."

The narrow path descended from the watchtower before winding through a stretch of woodland filled with tall cedar trees.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, dancing across the flowing water beside them.
The river moved steadily over smooth stones, creating a peaceful rhythm that accompanied every step.
Grace smiled.
"I like this road."
Anthony skipped across a fallen log.
"It feels happier."
Daniel laughed.
"I didn't know roads could have feelings."
"They can."
Anthony looked completely serious.
"Some feel lonely."
Micah chuckled.
"I used to think that when I was your age."
"You did?"
"My grandfather told me every path remembers the people who walk it."
Anthony grinned.
"I knew it."

Around midday, Caleb slowed his pace.
He crouched beside the riverbank, brushing aside a few leaves.
"Someone camped here."
Renwick joined him.
"Recently?"
"The ashes are cold, but the fire wasn't built long ago."
Dylan looked around.
"What else?"
Caleb pointed toward the soft ground.
"Two horses."
"One wagon."
"No sign of panic."
Micah frowned.
"The same wagon?"
"Possibly."
Renwick followed the tracks until they disappeared over a patch of exposed rock.
"They left the river."
"Which direction?"
"North."
That wasn't the direction of the mysterious cry.
Dylan looked back at the flowing water.
"We stay with the river."

The afternoon passed without incident.
Children collected unusual stones while Gideon identified wild herbs growing near the banks.
Samuel walked beside his father, speaking more than he had during the entire journey.
Years apart had created countless stories waiting to be shared.
"I missed your birthday again," Samuel admitted.
His father smiled.
"You've got plenty of chances to make up for it."
"I intend to."
"What matters is that you're here."
Those simple words eased a burden Samuel had carried for far too long.

As the sun began its slow descent, the river curved sharply around a rocky hillside.
Grace suddenly pointed ahead.
"There's a boat."
Everyone looked up.
A small wooden boat rested against the opposite bank.
It wasn't drifting.
Someone had tied it securely to an old willow tree.
Anthony frowned.
"Who's rowing it?"
"No one," Renwick answered.
The boat was empty.
Caleb scanned the shoreline carefully before stepping closer.
"There's something inside."
Using a long branch, he pulled the boat close enough to reach.
Resting on one of the wooden seats was a sealed clay jar wrapped in clean linen.
Micah recognised the knot immediately.
"I know this."
He carefully untied the cloth.
"My mother used to seal food this way when my grandfather travelled."
Inside the jar were dried berries, fresh bread... and another folded note.
Dylan opened it.
The handwriting matched the earlier message.
You're closer than you think. Trust the people beside you more than the voices ahead.
Anthony looked up.
"They keep telling us the same thing."
Tessa smiled.
"Because some lessons are worth repeating."
Before anyone could say more, Grace stepped closer to the edge of the river.
"Look."
She pointed toward the surface of the water.
Several white flowers floated gently downstream.
Dozens of them.
Each blossom moved with the current until they reached the bend in the river.
Instead of continuing forward...
They drifted toward a narrow opening hidden between two towering cliffs.
Micah's expression sharpened.
"I've walked this valley many times."
"I never knew there was a passage there."
Dylan folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.
"Our guide hasn't been leading us toward the cry."
He looked at the hidden waterway where the flowers continued to disappear.
"They've been leading us here."
The river had quietly revealed a path that the road had concealed.
Whatever waited beyond those cliffs had remained hidden from ordinary travellers for years.
Tomorrow, they would discover why.

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