Very quickly, Amicia was reminded of how important sound was to balance and perception. The white noise of the water—out of sight, but obliterating all other sound—made her feel almost blind.

After some time, Gabriel dismounted and helped her dismount—without any display. Then he led his horse down the trail, which was narrower and softer, so that their horses and even their boots left tracks. A mist hung over the trees.

They seemed to walk in a world of their own. They didn’t attempt to communicate, except that once he intruded into her memory palace to say, “It is very soft here—be careful,” and she smiled and thanked him.

And then they emerged from the trees onto a broad, flat greensward. There were whole trees on the grass, washed up to show that at the full peak of the spring flood, the grass was awash. Nor was it a perfect lawn—legions of ducks and geese had ensured the future fertility of the spot.

The noise was still incredible.

He walked to the water’s edge. A broad pool, the size of a small lake, rolled away into the fast flow of the river beyond. The banks were green, the water ice-cold and ocean deep. Out in the middle of the pool, a trout rose, red and gold and silver, the size of a big cat, took a fly neatly and rolled back under the cold black water.

But the pool didn’t hold the gaze. The falls were the miracle. The falls fell three hundred feet from the bluff far above where they had camped. They fell in a single broad sheet, separated high above them by a spire that stuck straight up into the air like the tower of a small cathedral.

Her eye could not stop tracking the water as it fell and fell and fell—the pool devoured it and sent it away down the river.

Amicia fell to her knees and prayed. She prayed for herself, and for him, and for the place and to bless God for all of creation.

When she rose—her knees thoroughly damp—he had tied the horses. He beckoned to her, and she followed him willingly enough. She felt at ease. Confident. Happy.

He led her to the edge of the falls, so that the enormous rush of water was passing a hand-span from his face.

Then he stepped into the water.

Amicia had seen a waterfall before, if not one so mighty as this. She stepped into the waterfall, too. In fact, she was merely damp when she emerged into the cave behind the fall.

The cave was not silent, but the sound was merely noise here.

He was grinning. “You do trust me.”

She shrugged. “I might say that I trust in God, and provoke you,” she said. “But in truth, yes, my dear, I do trust you.”

“Well, I thank you for your trust. I wanted you to come here.” He shrugged. “I found it years ago. I always imagined bringing my lady love here.”