“I tried—”
“Get the hell away from here!”
From Nessa’s bulging eyes and red face, Shanna assumed murder wasn’t far away, so she skeddadled out of the tent, even leaving her kit on the table.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Nessa’s mother said, catching her outside. She’d been the one to call Shanna for a quick weather solution—well, called Gran, but she had a cold. “You know how brides are. She doesn’t mean it personally. I’m sure you’re a great witch.”
As the mother left for the tent, Shanna stayed, letting herself get drenched in the downpour that showed no signs of stopping.
“I’m sure I’m not,” she murmured.
***
“I tried everything I could think of, and I can’t find the exact waterfall,” Chris said from the back seat of the car. “It’s not one of the famous ones, though.”
It had been a day since they’d left Queenstown, and Shanna was the reason for the delay. Yesterday, her usual Mom-tracking spell had failed. After spending three hours trying to make Simon and Chris understand how, due to both her kit and herself needing a recharge, she couldn’t repeat the spell right away, they’d decided to spend the night in the town closest to Milford Sound. This morning, Shanna repeated the spell. It failed again.
And took half of the town’s power grid with it.
Not wanting to delay them further, and worrying about causing an apocalypse in New Zealand, Shanna then suggested they might go to Milford Sound and try to find the waterfall the old-fashioned way. They set out early, wanting to have enough time to do so.
Another winding road through the mountains, and this time even a tunnel, awaited them. As if a painter flipped the canvas and started anew, the dry climate with brown and orange trees of late fall instantly transformed back into a lush, seasons-defying jungle dominated by giant ferns, as they exited the tunnel on the side of the Fiordlands.
“Have you tried reverse image search?” Simon asked.
“I did. I only get similar waterfalls, many of them not even here. Unless someone took a photo at the exact same angle, I don’t think we’re finding it on the internet.”
“I prefer finding things with my own eyes, anyway,” Shanna said, keeping a forceful cheerful mood through what was entirely her fault. “This is begging for a sightseeing tour.” She smiled at Simon from the side; he kept his eyes on the road, but his mouth quirked up.
“Aren’t some of the waterfalls only temporary?” Simon asked.
“Many, yeah,” Chris said.
“Somebody’s been doing research,” Shanna said.
Simon’s smile deepened. “Well, it is an important matter. However…” He spared a glance over his shoulder. “Couldn’t that pose a problem? Temporary waterfalls need a lot of rain to fuel them.”
“Nah.” Chris bent forward, leaning one elbow on each of the seats. “Look at this place.”
Shanna took in the wisps of fog hugging the mountainside. Above them was pure whiteness, no sky in sight.
“It’s the rainiest part of New Zealand. For most of the year, you’ll get at least a few drops of rain in a day. We’d have to get lucky tonothave a rainy day.”
“We don’t have to worry about that, then,” Shanna said with a relieved chuckle. “With me around, you shouldn’t count on luck.”
An hour later, they stood in the small harbor serving the sightseeing boats in Milford Sound, the clear, pale blue sky of the early morning announcing a fantastic day to sail down the fjord.
Simon leaned in ever so slightly toward Shanna. “You were saying something about luck?”
“I think I cursed us,” she murmured. “Again.”
The low, spread-out building in the harbor served as a passenger terminal. They headed to one of the counters offering boat rides.
“You’re so lucky, too,” the counter attendant said. “A beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Must be a rarity,” Simon said. “It probably rained all the days up to today, huh?”
“Actually, no. It’s been dry for almost two weeks. Strange for this time of the year, but I reckon you won’t complain.”
